The guy laughs. “Well, then, looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other next year.”
I glance at the clock—it’s nine minutes until twelve. “Change of plans,” I tell the driver. “I need you to take me to Lennox Hills.” I give him the address of Sophia’s apartment and he inputs it into his GPS. It shows seven minutes. I’ll be cutting it close.
When he pulls up, I yell for him to wait and run up the stairs to her apartment. Not wanting to wake Kendall up, I knock softly, but hard enough Sophia will hear it. A second later, the door opens. Sophia’s dressed in my gray sweats and LOST hoodie I left here, and my heart swells. She might be pushing me away, but she’s wearing my clothes. That has to count for something, right?
“Easton,” she breathes. Her hair is up in a messy bun and her face is splotchy. She’s been crying. Whatever is going on with her, she’s struggling. I don’t like to see her upset, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t glad on some level to see that she’s upset. It means she’s struggling with her decision to push me away. Unless…
“Are you and the baby okay?”
She nods.
“And Kendall’s okay?”
“Yes,” she says. “Everyone is…okay. What are you doing here?”
“The person you’re with at midnight is the person you’ll spend the year with,” I tell her, stepping into her space. “The odds are already against me, so I figured this might help tip the scale in my favor.”
Without asking for permission, I entwine my fingers in her hair and kiss her hard. In the background, the man on the television announces that it is midnight, officially the new year.
I expect Sophia to resist, but she doesn’t. Her body sinks against mine and she kisses me back. Her lips are soft and plump, and she smells intoxicating. She must’ve showered recently because I can smell her signature body wash she uses. I keep my mouth pressed to hers, inhaling her scent, trying to memorize the way she smells, the way she feels, the way she tastes. I’m going to need this memory to get me through the next month, until I can come back and somehow beg her to be with me.
The kiss ends and Sophia’s glassy eyes meet mine. “Easton,” she chokes out.
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” I tell her, running my knuckles down the side of her cheek. “I get it. You need time, and I’m going to give you that. I just needed to see you before I left.”
She nods and several tears fall. I wipe them with my thumbs, hating that she’s hurting. Hating that I have no clue how to make this better for her. I have a feeling she’s keeping something from me, but I don’t know what. And until she tells me, there’s nothing I can do.
“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.” I kiss her forehead and then step back into the hallway. “Take care of our baby, all right? And tell Kendall I’ll be back soon.”
She flashes me a watery smile. “I will,” she rasps. More tears fall and I want to catch them all, but I have to go. I have to give her her space. And I know if I don’t leave now, it’ll only be harder on both of us. So, I do the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do and walk away.
“Hey, man, we’re going out for dinner. You coming?” Jordan asks from the doorway of our adjoining hotel rooms. We’re in Chicago for a few days, so we’ve checked into a hotel. We do that when we’re in one city longer than a single night. Gets us out of the bus and keeps us from going stir-crazy. I should probably go so I can eat something, but I’m not in the mood to be around people, especially ones like my sister and Jordan, who’ll drill me with questions.
“Nah, go ahead. I’ll grab something here.”
He sighs but doesn’t bother to argue. “All right, we’ll see you in a little bit,” he says before closing the door behind him.
I pull out my phone and send my nightly text to Sophia. I’ve been texting her every day, twice a day, since I left: once in the morning, wishing her a good day, and another in the evening, asking how her day was. Her responses are always short, never giving too much away, but she at least responds… I’ll take what I can get.
Kendall, on the other hand, I talk to every day. We FaceTime and I tell her the new city I’m in and she tells me how school is going and the drama of the day in first grade.
Me: Hey, Dash, my calendar notified me that you’re officially 15 weeks today (I’m sure you already know that, though). Congrats! I looked it up and the baby is the size of a light bulb. Not much of a difference from the baseball he was last week… My favorite week is still the Rubik’s cube. I hope you’re having a good day off. Miss you.