Judging Books

“I was for a while,” I said. “I left last night.”

Josh glanced at me, eyes narrowed.

“I think it’s my fault Ethan’s not answering your calls.” I took a long breath. “I left a little…abruptly.”

“Oh.” Josh fidgeted in the seat.

I pulled up to the gate. Henry peered into the car, and Josh greeted him.

“Welcome back!” Henry said as he waved us through. “I can take it from here.”

Henry drove off with my car, and Josh walked me up to the elevator.

“I have the feeling you two need to talk,” Josh said. “I’m just going to get the elevator going and leave you to it, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, that’s fine.” I didn’t know what else to say. Josh seemed to have a pretty good idea of what was going on, and I didn’t care to elaborate. He wished me luck as I entered the elevator, and he used his keycard to access the penthouse floor.

As the elevator started its quick ascent, I began to panic. What was I going to say to him? What excuse could I possibly have for running out on him like I did with no explanation at all? What was I going to do if he told me to just leave and that he never wanted to see me again?

“He won’t do that,” I whispered quietly. “He wants to talk to me.”

The elevator door opened, and I stepped into the entryway that led to Ethan’s apartment door. I imagined him opening the door, smiling at me, and saying everything was fine. I also imagined him slamming the door in my face.

With shaking hands, I walked up to the door and let my finger hover over the doorbell. I could turn around and run away, pretending I had never met Ethan in the first place. If I escaped now, I wouldn’t have to come to terms with why I left in the first place or try to explain it to Ethan. I would never have to risk telling my father about him or justify why I was dating someone so young.

If I did that—if I ran away right this second and never stepped foot in this place again—I would never again see that beautiful smile directed at me.

I rang the bell.

After a few moments, the door opened, and a disheveled Ethan peered at me. His eyes were dull and red-rimmed. He was still wearing the same T-shirt he had on the day before, and his face was completely devoid of his glorious smile.

My already tense muscles clamped down in my body. Now that I was here, standing in front of him, I had no idea what I was supposed to say. My mouth and throat felt dry, and my palms were clammy.

I wanted to take him in my arms and tell him how wrong I was and that everything was going to be all right, but I couldn’t make myself move, and my tongue couldn’t produce any words.

Ethan’s eyes widened as he stared at me. He reached forward with his left hand and at the same time took a step backward with his right foot. He blinked a few times, and the silence continued for what felt like hours.

“Did you get my message?” Ethan finally asked.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I didn’t know what to say.” I felt my face heat up, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his stare.

“But you came back,” he said. “Are you here to tell me what I did wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said.

“Then why are you here?”

“To apologize?” I didn’t mean for my words to sound like a question, but they did.

Ethan gritted his teeth and looked away from me. He took another step back and leaned against the wall behind the door, his hands behind his back, and stared at the floor.

“I don’t know if I’m excited to have you back here or just scared shitless you’re going to leave again,” he said without looking up.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t really know what came over me.”