Chapter 21: What You Never Asked

Tobias's POV

By ten that night, the office floor had emptied, and I was sitting on the couch where I had first had her.

I had not turned on the lights.

The city came through the glass in squares, and the couch still held the shape of her, or I told myself it did.

I had been thirty-six years old for two months, and I had never been jealous before.

It wasn't the kiss.

I had watched Porter bend over her hand, and I had understood it was a goodbye.

It was the look on her face afterward.

She had been kind to him.

I knew exactly what a woman like Tamara did when someone she had loved for twelve years finally said sorry.

She stayed.

She stayed and she explained to herself why it was fine.

I could not compete with an apology.

I could only tell her the truth and get out of the way.

My phone had buzzed all afternoon.

I had turned it face down on the arm of the couch.

At ten past ten, I heard the elevator.

Nobody had a key to this floor at night except me and Maggie, and Maggie was home with a cat.

I stood.

Tamara came down the hall in the navy dress with her shoes in her hand.

Her hair had come loose from its knot, and her face had a blotchy look I had never seen on it.

She stopped in the doorway of my office.

"You're here," she said.

"I'm here."

"I called you a dozen times."

"I know."

"You left me a sticky note."

"It was true."

"Tobias."

"Come in," I said. "Close the door."

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