Mr. Wrong Number(82)
He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t.
After a good five minutes, I texted: I am out in your hallway, wearing the sexiest top you’ve ever seen.
I sent the message, and then I took a selfie of the dumb sweater and sent it.
He didn’t respond, and after ten more minutes, I stood and ran my hand over his door. I blinked back pools of heavy tears and tried one last time, just in case. There were still no sounds from within, so I cleared my throat and rested my forehead on his door.
“It sounds bizarre, but I didn’t realize until today that I’ve forgiven you for the whole thing. As soon as Jack said you’re moving to Chicago, nothing else mattered but seeing you and begging you not to go.”
I blinked back the tears and added, “Unless you’re dying to go. Then I’ll just beg you to text me a lot and let me visit or something.” I straightened and muttered, “Shit. He’s probably not even home.”
“He’s home.”
My head snapped around and there was Colin, two doors down in the hallway and walking toward his apartment in a black North Face jacket. His cheeks were red like he’d been outside for a while, and he was looking at me with a stoic face, no warmth at all in the blue eyes I’d been having dreams about for a month. My stomach dropped, and I struggled to think of words as he held me in his cold stare. I’d practiced on the way over, but the only thing I was able to come up with was “Were you really going to move to Chicago without telling me?”
I hated that my voice cracked when I said it.
“Why would I tell you?” He looked down at my stupid pumpkin sweater but didn’t say anything about it. “Does it matter?”
I nodded.
His eyes narrowed. “What does that nod mean?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what, Marshall?” He gestured for me to get on with it. “Help me understand what is happening here.”
I put my hands in my coat pockets. “I’m trying to apologize.”
“By nodding at me.”
I nodded.
“Listen, I don’t know what you want from me here.” His voice was gravelly as he scratched his eyebrow. “I screwed up and you walked away. I told you that I loved you and you told me I was a joke. So now that I’m moving, you’re back . . . ? What am I supposed to do here?”
I had no answer, so I just shrugged listlessly.
“This is great, Liv, that you’re suddenly mute, but I can’t do this anymore, okay?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “I know it was my own fault, but losing you turned out to be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Everything sucked, everything reminded me of you, and I was so fucking sad all the time that I couldn’t even stand to be around myself. I can’t keep living like this, hoping to see you in the elevator or daydreaming like a lovesick puppy that we might run into each other at Starbucks. I love you, Olivia, but this is killing me. I have to get away from all of this.”
My heart was pounding. “You still love me?”
He shook his head. “Stop it. That’s not the point.”
“Oh, my God, it is, too.” I was flat-out crying now and I didn’t care. “I love you, too, and everything has been awful for me, too. Ask anyone. I punched Will the other day for saying I was acting like a pouty baby.”
He tilted his head. “You did not.”
“I really did. And my mother is probably going to show up here any second now because I ditched Thanksgiving dinner to come find you.”
“What?”
I rolled my eyes. “Jack said you were moving, so I just left. And we hadn’t even taken the family picture yet.”
“You ditched Thanksgiving dinner?”
I nodded and said, “I’d do it again if it meant stopping you from leaving.”
“Holy shit, I was right.” He stared at me, his jaw flexing, and it looked like he could see into my soul or something.
“About what?” I asked.
His mouth softened and he looked at me like he was figuring out a puzzle. “When we went to Fleming’s and you let that dog knock you down in the parking lot, I realized something. You aren’t a hot mess at all, Livvie. You’re just this . . . this . . . human tornado who is so alive, so filled with the energy of the moment, that there occasionally is a little collateral damage.”
I opened my mouth and had no words—for once.
“But all the damages are worth it. They’re but a small price. I wish I lived in the moment like you do.” He took his hands out of his pockets and stepped closer, and his palms slid over my cheeks. “You have no idea how much I admire that about you.”
“Colin.” I looked up at his handsome face and wasn’t sure any compliment had ever meant that much to me in my entire life. “Are you saying that I’m your hero? That I’m the wind beneath your—”
He stopped my words with a kiss, one of his Colin specials that left me grasping at his shirt while he reminded me how good it’d been with us. As if I needed reminding. He lifted his lips just long enough to say against mine, “Say it again.”
I felt like my heart was going to burst. “I love you.”
He grinned down at me. “Again.”
“I love you, Colin Beck.”