He ignores my pleas as the traffic once again comes to a screeching halt.
“Come the fuck on,” I mutter, checking my watch as the minutes tick by and each minute that passes makes me think I will once again miss her, just like I have for the last thirteen years.
“You can get out here,” the cab driver replies pointing out his window, bothered by my orders and my ramblings as traffic begins to move slowly, inching closer to my destination.
By the time we finally reach the bookstore it’s nine-thirty and due to the bookstore being on a one-way street, the cab driver attempts to circle the block, but I stop him. Shoving a couple of twenties at him, I bail out of the cab and practically sprint around the block to the bookstore.
Completely unaware of the people around me, I practically knock down a woman leaving a nearby store as she tries to exit.
“Sorry,” I call, but the look on her face says I’m anything but forgiven. I normally wouldn’t behave like this, but I feel like I’m about to miss my opportunity.
My heart is racing, pounding angrily against my ribs and my breathing is labored and not just from the short jog around the block. This is it. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long and nothing is going to fuck it up.
I grab for the door to the bookstore and it’s locked. There it is, right in front of me, the store closes at nine-thirty and when I look down at my watch it’s nine thirty-five.
“Motherfucker,” I shout, pulling my hands through my hair. I don’t know whether to scream out loud, cry or laugh. It’s all too fucking much. There has to be a point when I give up for good.
The book, the dedication, the email, the hotel; it all felt like I was being led directly to Nora, but now, I feel like I just used those things as excuses for my stupidity. The store is closed. If that’s not a sign for go-the-fuck-home, I don’t know what is.
I scrub my hands over my face and turn to leave the store and as I do, I see her.
Nora
She’s standing on the corner of the street a few feet from the bookstore. I’m certain it’s her and she looks fucking stunning. She’s as beautiful as the day I met her at that party, if not more so now.
I watch her for what feels like forever. Her eyes are closed as she lifts her head toward the sky and holds it there for a moment. She’s smiling and her dark brown hair is blowing in the wind. It’s like it’s happening in slow motion. She steps over to the curb and I know she’s going to hail a cab. I’ll miss her again if I don’t get moving. It’s what makes me realize I have to say something. I have to stop her from hailing a cab.
I call her name, but it gets lost in the crowd and the city noise, yet it appears as if she hears me. She looks around for a split second so I yell her name and begin to push my way through the few people still left gathering on the sidewalk out front of the bookstore. And again she stops, looking around, but she doesn’t see me. She laughs a little and her face lights up, stopping me in my tracks. Seeing her in person cannot compare to my memories.
Her hand is in the air and a cab comes to stop in front of her and I know I need to start moving again.
I have no idea what I’m going to say when I reach her. At this moment I can’t even think straight, but all I know is I’ve found her. It doesn’t matter what happens after.
Her hand is on the door of the cab when I finally make my way to her. I reach out to grasp her elbow and as I do the wind blows, slowly filling the air with the scent of coconuts. It’s a smell that I know well. It reminds me of my job in San Diego, of the beach and of a time when I fell in love with Nora.
She smells like I did the day we met, like sunscreen and the beach, the salty sea air and summer. I want to take her in my arms and hold her. I want to tell her how much I’ve missed her and that I never stopped looking for her, but it’s all too fucking overwhelming.
My hand is still wrapped around her elbow and I don’t want to let go. I’m afraid I might lose her again if I let go, like she’ll just vanish like she did thirteen years ago. I can feel the warmth of her skin through her shirt and it radiates through my fingers making this moment feel entirely surreal.
She turns to look at me, her beautiful brown eyes shining in the dim light of the street. Her face is a mixture of shock and confusion and relief as she looks at me. I don’t know what else to say so I say her name, “Nora.”
Chapter Twenty-Six: Nora
The next day goes by in a blurry, hazy mess of wondering if I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life. My life is in a constant state of unrest and worry, with thoughts of fate and reasons why things occur the way they do and if I’ve just repeated the past.
I left Ryan’s feeling relieved, but guilty and I woke this morning with a heavy feeling in my chest and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. I’ve tried to ignore it all, knowing I have my book signing coming up and chalking the whole thing up to nervousness.
Yet, my every thought comes back to what-ifs, far too many to even understand. Was my relationship with Ryan destined to fail? Was it meant to end this way? Or was it something that I had to work at to make it work?
Every choice we make in life has its consequences and life isn’t fair. It never has been and sometimes it shows what you think belongs to you, only to take it away. Elliot.
In this case, I ended what I hope will one day not be a huge mistake. But given my past, it’s hard not to think I could have possibly gone wrong.
My book signing is tonight and Alice was planning to come with me, but I told her I’ll go it alone. I have no idea what to expect although my publicist has assured me there will be a decent turn out.
I meet up with my publicist and my agent a few hours before the signing to get everything ready. The place is already busy with a small line forming in the store. It’s a tiny place, not much larger than my apartment, but it’s a good place to start. I don’t want to be too overwhelmed by the situation.
It’s been strange for me to put my story out there. Something I kept to myself all these years and while the response to my book has been great, there have been the occasional comments that I’m crazy, that there is no way a guy I met at eighteen would still be looking for me. But then there’s the other side that sees the romantic side of it, the side that gives people hope that there is fate and people do fall in love at first sight.
The book signing is a whirlwind of questions and comments and pictures, and the two hours go by in a blink. I enjoyed it far more than I expected and half an hour after it ends, I’m finally making my way out of the store. The crowd has died down, but I’m still smiling like crazy when I step outside.
I walk to the corner of the street and stop, my smile still lingering as I take a deep breath, finally feeling like my life is coming together, and that’s when I hear it.
I hear a voice call my name. It’s muffled over the noise of the passing cars and I look around wondering if I’ve actually just imagined it. A horn blows loudly and in that instant I hear my name again. This time it’s a near shout, an almost desperate plea.
I turn, standing on the street corner just steps from the bookstore, I still see no one, but the few people who are gathered on the sidewalk waiting for cabs or heading home for the night. None of them look like they’re trying to get my attention. Waiting for a moment, I begin to laugh at myself, knowing how ridiculous it is that someone would be calling my name on the streets of New York City at this time of the night.