Chapter 22: Not Chasing

The rain came down in sheets on Fifth Avenue.

I walked half a block in the blue dress with no coat and my shoes in my hand.

A doorman under an awning looked at me and said nothing.

I stopped at the corner under a streetlight, because the light turned red.

That was the only reason I stopped.

I stood there with my pulse still going hard, and rain running down the back of my neck, and the ringing in my ears finally cleared.

Then I understood what I'd done.

I had stood in front of three hundred people and said the true thing out loud.

I had not run once.

And the moment it was over, I ran anyway.

I turned around.

The hotel steps were lit gold behind the rain.

Quincy stood at the top of them.

He was not running toward me. He had not gone back inside, either. He had not even put up a hand.

He stood in the downpour in his black suit, soaked through, and looked down the avenue at me.

Where I'd left him.

He was only half a block away.

I could have gone around the corner and not been seen.

I stayed under the light and looked at him.

He didn't move.

I thought of every night he had sat across from me in the library without a word, until I fell asleep on his jacket.

I thought: he has never once followed me.

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