I’d already done my due diligence and researched her neighbors. The man across the hall from Livvie had been arrested for domestic violence the year before but hadn’t been in trouble since. He’d been living with a female student at the time. I’d be keeping a close eye on him as well.
I showered around ten-thirty.
I had champagne brought up an hour later.
By midnight, I was expecting the phone to ring at any moment.
With each passing minute, I realized the void inside me was alive and well. It was thriving. It had a taste for a new sort of misery—hope. It had been a long time since I had allowed myself such an emotion. The void feasted on it while old memories reminded me how dangerous it could be. Hope and fear are different sides of the same coin. I had gone from missing Livvie to hoping I could be the man she wanted. I didn’t know which was worse.
I had gone through all sorts of scenarios in my mind prior to making contact with Livvie. However, her passive aggressive behavior toward me was not one of them. My mind is much more problem/solution oriented. Mad at me? Scream at me. Punch me if you’re up for it. Please don’t smile at me sweetly, act like nothing is wrong and then leave me disillusioned. And before you say anything, yes—I realize how fucking ironic my words are. I have played my fair share of mind games with Livvie. It doesn’t mean I liked being on the other side. No man does.
I took a cab over to her apartment. There was a wall of buttons and a speaker panel just outside the door. I ran my finger down a column of buttons until someone buzzed me in. I ignored the groggy insults coming through the speaker. I made it a point to ignore the button marked “S. Cole.”
The elevator to the fifth floor moved at a glacial pace. Thoughts raced through my mind, each bombarding me with different emotions. In the time it had taken to arrive on Livvie’s floor, I had changed my mind about what to say or do a dozen times.
I could turn around, change hotels, and let her wonder where the hell I’d gone. I could pound on her door and make a scene in the hall. I could push my way past her when she opened the door and refuse to leave until she gave me answers. I could tell her to go fuck herself and then leave.
I could.
I wouldn’t.
I took a deep breath and knocked. My heart beat a staccato rhythm and my breaths filled in the gaps. I’d been in more than my fair share of perilous situations, but few had the ability to affect me so physically.
After a few seconds, the door opened. A small chain prevented it from opening fully. Livvie’s tear-stained face looked at me through the gap. My anger evaporated and fear blossomed.
“Are you okay? You didn’t call.”
Livvie glanced away and shut the door in my face. I heard her dealing with the chain just before the door reopened and she motioned me inside. I stepped slowly and carefully. As I let my eyes wander around her apartment, I realized I’d never walked in Livvie’s world. I didn’t know all the different sides of her. There was a blue sofa and a coffee table in the shape of a splat. Fake orange daisies stuck out of a vase filled with clear marbles. Framed posters adorned her walls: Interview with a Vampire, The Crow, The Social Network, Inception, a poster of four different colored records, and a half-naked man whose virtues were compared to chocolate.
I felt conspicuously out of place. Livvie was young. She cared about movies, music, and boys. She preferred bright colors. I smiled when I saw her PlayStation. A set of drumsticks, a microphone, and a plastic guitar were crammed up against the TV stand. I wondered if Livvie liked to sing or if she preferred one of the instruments. I wondered who she played with and decided the couple she was always with seemed the most likely. They knew her in ways I didn’t. It made me jealous.
“I’m sorry,” Livvie said as she walked toward a side door. She was wearing a pink robe with teddy bears on it. I would never have chosen an outfit like that for her. I followed her onto her balcony and watched her light a cigarette. “I got out of work late and I figured you were probably asleep.” She inhaled deeply and let the smoke out smoothly, a sign of a well-seasoned smoker.
“How long have you been smoking?” I asked. I hadn’t noticed her smoking during the course of my surveillance. She smiled and scoffed sarcastically.
“You going to give me shit about it?”
“No. We all have our bad habits.” I would be doing something about the smoking, but I didn’t need to get into it right then. She turned her head toward me and gave me a grin.
“Not all my habits are bad.”
I smiled despite my unease.
“There’s a few I’m quite fond of,” I quoted her. I stepped closer and brushed her hair away from her forehead. I liked touching her. I liked to remind myself she was alive. To my relief, she closed her eyes and enjoyed my touch.
“I only do it when I’m stressed out. I took it up after I left the hospital. I haven’t had one in months.” She turned away and took another drag from her cigarette.
“What’s the real reason you didn’t call?” My fear surged. “Did you… change your mind? About us?”
She glanced at me over her shoulder before pointedly staring off into the night. She took two more drags from her cigarette.
“I don’t know what us is.”
My eyes were burning. The smoke, maybe.
“It could be whatever you want it to be, Livvie. Or it could be nothing. It’s up to you.” I knew the moment the words left my mouth they were a lie. She scowled at me.
“No, Caleb, it’s not so simple. It’s been a year. A fucking year! You never gave me the chance to be angry with you. You just disappeared and left me to worry that maybe you were dead. I had the FBI up my ass and the whole time—the whole time—I defended you. I defended what you did to me because I loved you and you’d just risked everything to save me. And now you walk back into my life.” She wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “And goddammit I can’t bear the thought of being without you again. But there’s all this other shit too. All the things I never let myself feel because I didn’t want to admit that maybe Reed and Sloan were right. Maybe I can’t love you.”
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as my dormant and underutilized emotions were accosted.
“Please,” I heard myself whisper. I didn’t even know what I was asking for. Perhaps it was only that I wanted her to stop saying those things. Her words hurt me. They hurt me more than I thought anything could hurt. They hurt nearly as much as the memory of Rafiq’s eyes going dead. My own words taunted me.
“I did think it was really cute when you said you loved me though.”
Livvie, in her infinite capacity for compassion, put out her cigarette and wrapped her arms around my waist. I took the lifeline she offered and held her in my arms. I might have squeezed her too hard. I didn’t want to let her go. I couldn’t.
“Caleb,” she gasped. I loosened my grip but didn’t let her go. “I don’t want you to disappear again. Please, promise me you won’t.”
I searched blindly for my voice and had to clear my throat before I could speak.
“I promise, Livvie. But I… I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been here before.”
“Neither have I, Caleb. And we’re seriously more fucked up than anyone else I know.” She laughed morosely. “But you have to give me time. You have to let me be mad at you. You have to promise that no matter what I say or do, you’ll forgive me. You’ll wait for me to let it go.”
So many emotions and I couldn’t let them out. I settled for stating the obvious.
“Livvie, I’ll forgive you whatever the hell you want. You don’t need my forgiveness; you never have to ask for it. It’s yours, Livvie. Anything that’s mine to give is already yours.” I placed my fingers in her hair and tilted her face up to mine. Her lips were salty with tears, her mouth tasted like smoke, but beyond that there was just Livvie. I needed Livvie.