But I didn’t.
Another regret.
Coach might have been the wedge to come between us back then, but he was no one to regard or respect now.
Fuck him.
But that was then and there. This place may be the perfect backdrop for a fresh start for us, at least for the time being. Though this city is anything but welcoming. Stepping over the lines on the sidewalk, I try to picture it through Harper’s eyes. So far, New York City is a whole lot of sensory overload—brightly lit marquees, metal and glass skyscrapers with residential huts in between corner stores and eateries. Horns are a constant background noise, in addition to the piss-poor hospitality, and mind-numbing cold. For Harper, it’s home, for me, it’s a different universe. One I’d gladly enter just to get a glimpse of her in it.
Searching for any sign of the lit front door, I begin to question my tactic. This half-assed plan is straight from a lunatic’s imagination. René had been the key to getting me this far. After seeing Kandace’s post, I searched for René and found he recently posted a selfie in front of his building, where I know they still live together. Behind him in the shot were twin lit candy canes on the front door of the lobby, the numbers blurred by the vanity filter magnifying his face.
I have a street and a clue as to which building, and if I was taking stalking 101, I’d ace that shit. I’m not sure what that makes me, but I’m assuming somewhere between desperate and creeper.
Desperate seems the right word for the moment.
I can’t shake her. No matter how much time has passed.
With every step I take, I curse the fact that at any point, I could have made this same trip two years sooner and maybe salvaged our relationship.
It’s been two years.
Two years.
Do I even know her anymore? Have I changed?
Am I chasing what was and what no longer exists?
“Fuck it.” Pushing those thoughts away, I cross the street and resume my search. I’m determined to see this through, to either fuel or snuff out any lingering hopes.
I’m a few blocks down when I see the lights on the door. Speeding up, I’m there in seconds and through the doors looking at her mailbox.
Medrano/Elliot 21B
Surely it can’t be this simple?
Entering the elevator, palms sweaty, I keep my eyes trained on the threadbare maroon carpet.
“I’ll still feel the same way about you, even years from now. I know it. I know myself. I probably won’t ever stop loving you.”
Harper is the only woman I’ve ever let get close enough to truly know me, but I can’t help the doubts creeping in. Then again, I’ve been living those words on my own side of things since she left my driveway.
And it’s time to find out if they have proved true for her as well.
Sharply, I knock twice on the door and shove my hands in my jeans. The slight swelling in my eyes has my vision blurry. The fatigue I feel after going six rounds before the trip here vanishes when the door opens. René stands in front of me in a black tank and blue jeans. He’s shorter than me, attractive and built. If I hadn’t seen his Instagram and known who he was, I would have been on edge with him answering the door, especially with his scrutinizing brown eyes and the way they’re taking me in. Nothing about this man’s appearance seems anything but hetero. That is until he opens his mouth and calls behind him.
“Oh, dear Christ. Mami! Santa came early, and my delivery finally chowed up!”
I can’t help my grin when he turns back to me.
“I dreamed ju. Thank ju, Hezuz.” He does the sign of the cross and blows a kiss to the heavens before lifting his hand on the frame and leaning in. “So, what should we do first? A picnic sounds so romantics.”
“It’s December.”
“Never underestimates the power of body heat.”
“Do you greet all strangers at your door like this?”
“If dey look like ju, jes.” He deadpans.
I shake my head with a grin. “Is Harper here?”
“And all my hopes, splat like shits.” I throw my head back and laugh. This guy is something else. He calls back over his shoulder again. “Harper, GQ just showed up, and he is hetero!” He turns back to me. “What’s jour name?”
“Lance.”
He opens his mouth and freezes, his expression turning grim.
“Lance?”
“Yes.”
He lifts a brow as I lift my chin, ready for the inevitable.
“Huh, I thought ju look familiar. Cowboy Lance.”
I cup the back of my neck. “Not exactly.”
He steps out into the hall, crowding me before yelling back into the apartment. “Never mind, Mami, it’s for me.”
“What the hell, man?” I say, backing up so he can close the door.
He crosses his arms, unfazed. “Aren’t ju about, oh, two years too late?”
“She’s here, right?”
“Oh, tough guy, che here, but ju are not welcome.”
“And why is that?”
“Because che smiles now, without being told to, that’s why.”
It’s like a knife to my chest, but at the same time, it angers me. Why didn’t she reach out? I’m the one she left. If she had regrets, she should have voiced them to me.
“I just want a word.”
“No.”
“Jesus, man, it’s been a long flight, a hell of a long night, and I need to talk to her.”
“Fine, first a test.”
“You’re serious?”
“Are ju Lance?”
“Yes.”
“Then jes, a test.”
“Come on with it, man.”
“How did ju find her?”
“The internet. I follow you, and her sister,” I shrug, “easy to piece together.”
“So ju stalked?”
“I guess so, yeah. I mean, I’ve kept up with her because I care about her.”
“But, ju were not invited.”
“No. We’ve established that.”
“So, hot man, what makes ju tink che wants ju to come now after all dis time?”
“Dude, I know you’re her best friend, and you’re trying to protect her, but I’ve never hurt her.”
“Why ju wait so long?”
“She left me.”
“No, che didn’t.”
“Jes, che did.”
“It’s not nice to make fun of my accent.”
“I apologize, but you’re pissing me off.”
“I am a ju S citizen.”
“I’m happy for you. We’re in the same club.”
“Are ju always this grumpy? Ju know it’s Christmas time, right?”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“About Christmas, jes.” He shakes his head. “Yeah, no, with dis…” he thrusts his hands my way, “disposition, dis is not good. Ju comes back when ju have a better attitude.”
The door opens behind him, and for the first time in two years, I get a look at her. My heart slams into my chest when her mouth parts. Seconds of silence stretch as we take the other in.
“Hey, Priss.” Despite my irritation and the obstacle between us, I can’t help my smile. René’s gaze ping-pongs between us before resting on Harper, who is still gaping at me, a mist in her eyes.