The Fixed Trilogy: Forever With You(95)

But a sudden wave of nostalgia kept me from leaving without doing a final look around. I told myself it was the smart thing to do—in case I found something that I wanted to take with me.

Yeah, that was it.

The place was almost exactly the way I’d left it, except the cleaning lady had been through. The trashcans and dishwasher had been emptied. The only sign of disarray was the books I’d left out in the library. All clean and immaculate like that, the apartment felt empty, abandoned. Lonely. The warmth that had once filled it was gone. It seemed staged. Like a model home that no one really lived in. Like nothing special or beautiful had ever happened there.

It could be anyone’s home. Nothing reflected us. How had I never noticed this before?

It was fitting, I supposed, to feel so empty.

Except it deepened my sorrow. I’d been prepared to walk in and be met with the ghosts of our past. That they weren’t there rocked me.

Suddenly, I felt desperate to find a sign of us somewhere—anywhere. I set down my bag and ran back to our bedroom. I threw myself onto the made bed and buried my face in a pillow. It smelled clean. The bedding had been changed since we’d last slept there together. In Hudson’s closet, I found only rows of clean clothes and an empty hamper. Finally, in the bathroom, I found a bottle of his body wash. I opened it and breathed in the scent.

My knees buckled. God, it was him and not him all at once. The smell permeated into my skin, reawakening every memory of him, rekindling feelings that I wanted to forget.

In that moment, though, I didn’t want to forget. I wanted to embrace everything I had left of him. And this scent wasn’t enough. It was missing the most important part. I wanted more, all of it. And I couldn’t find it here.

I recognized the emotion immediately—the desperate urge. I could make it go away if I tried hard enough, if I refocused, if I concentrated on my substitute list.

But I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to follow the urge, to let it lead me where I needed to go. For once, I wanted to give in to it instead of constantly fighting it. Wanted to fall into the comfort of the old pattern and let it swallow me.

Maybe, just today, I could let it take me away. I could go to the loft, slip in while Hudson was in his meetings, and feel him in the place that he’d been living. Look for traces of his existence. Smell him and sense him.

It wasn’t healthy, but it would only be one time. One time wouldn’t destroy me. And after that, I could move on. I’d go to my group meeting and get back on track and my new life—my life without Hudson—could really begin.

It sounded divine. Like a guilty pleasure. No worse than eating a whole tub of Ben and Jerry’s straight from the carton. Without any more thought, I decided to do it. Then I flagged down a cab and headed to the Pierce Industries building before I could change my mind.

I was grateful that Norma had told me about Hudson’s afternoon meeting. It made the chance of bumping into him not an issue. He’d be wrapped up in his business whatnot, never knowing I was right above him. It added to the appeal.

As soon as I opened the front door of the loft, I felt it. The thing I’d been missing—Hudson’s presence. It lingered in the air, not just his scent, but the warmth of him. It made the hair stand up on my arms and made my skin tingle. It was exactly what I’d longed for.

Setting my duffel by the front door, I explored further, remembering and putting to memory the place where we’d shared our first time. I trailed my hand along the back of his leather couch as I passed. Then I trailed my other hand over the papers on his desk as I went deeper into the loft. At the back, I found the private elevator. It led to one place only—down to his office. That’s how close he was. I placed my palm on the cool metal.

How close. How far away.

In the kitchen, I lingered over a half empty mug of coffee on the counter. He drank from this. His lips had touched the rim. I lifted the cup to my face, pressing it against my cheek. It was cold, but I could imagine it hot. Imagine him sipping at it gently, carefully.

I knew I was acting crazy, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop myself even if I did care.

Soon, I made it to the bedroom. The room he’d first taken me in. He’d been both amazing and overwhelming. I’d felt out of my league, and yet, I couldn’t help but try to fit into his world in the way he’d wanted me.

My eyes glanced toward the bathroom. If I went in there now, would the scent of clean Hudson still be lingering from his morning shower? I’d go there next.

But first, the bed…

I fell across the mattress. This time when I inhaled, he was there in abundance. I wrapped my arms tight around his pillow and closed my eyes, breathing him in and out and in. And out. The scent soothed me, calmed me. The ache in my chest released ever so slightly. The tension behind my temples abated. For the first time in days, I felt okay.

Closing my eyes, I let the fantasy wash over me. Let myself forget the hurt and betrayal and pretended Hudson and I could be together again in all the ways we used to be. I imagined his lips on me—phantom kisses along my neck and down my torso that sent shivers down my spine and caused my toes to curl. Then his hands, caressing and kneading my body, reawakening my skin with his simple touch. Adoring me physically but with so much concentration and attention that the effort had to come from true and pure love.

I was still lying on the bed, lost in my daydream, when the private elevator arrived in the next room.