I suck in a breath, blinking the tears away. “Well…thank you for trying. I really appreciate it.”
I turn from the door and stand there, not sure what to do.
Then, from nowhere, I feel a sudden rush of anger.
Well, fine, Adam doesn’t want to see me, but I want to see him.
He asked me last night for the truth, and that’s what I’m here to give him.
I’ve come this far, and I’m not going anywhere until I see it through to the end.
With determination in my stride, I march over to the bench across the street, facing the studio, and I sit down on it.
Okay, it might not be a massive declaration. And I’m actually starting to feel a little deflated, and stupid, now my ass is on this bench.
But this is all I’ve got. So, I’m staying put.
I mean, if I wanted to go all out, I could have tried to ninja kick open the door to the building—not that I know ninja, or how that would have even worked out—and if I had by some miracle made it through the door and made a dash for Adam’s office, I’m pretty sure huge guy in there would have taken me down in seconds and then called the cops. And I really don’t feel like spending the night in a prison cell.
So, I’m waiting here until Adam leaves the building.
Then, I’ll make him talk to me. Well, I don’t need him to talk. I just need him to listen.
Bench seats are not made for long periods of sitting. Both my ass cheeks are numb, and my back hurts.
Two hours is a really long time to sit. I mean, one hour is a long time, but two? This second hour feels longer than the first. I never realized how long an hour was until I had to sit here for two of them with absolutely nothing to do but stare across the street at Adam’s building. And God knows how much longer I’m going to be here.
But I’m not moving. I’ll sit here all night if I have to.
I know I look like a complete dick, but I don’t care.
I came here to tell Adam the truth, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to wait here until he leaves his building, and then I’m going to force him to hear me out.
I can’t remember the last time I sat for this long. Sure, I sit and watch TV for long periods of time, but I’m watching TV.
The last time I just sat like this and did nothing…was ten years ago—with Adam. We would sit up on my rock or just on the beach, and I would sketch for a while. Then, when I was done sketching, we’d just watch the sun fade into the ocean together, just being together.
Now, I’m sitting here alone, outside his building, and he doesn’t want to see me.
I tilt my head back and stare up at the sky. The clouds are slowly drifting over.
I let myself remember good times, happier times.
There was a time when I wouldn’t allow myself to remember the good times because it hurt too much to do so.
It hurts now, but it’s a pain I’m familiar with.
A shadow falls over me. I drop my gaze, and my eyes meet with Adam’s.
My breath catches. My heart stills.
“You suck at stakeouts,” he says in a low voice that sends chills over my skin. “I could have left the building and walked straight past you, and you wouldn’t have noticed.”
He sits down beside me on the bench. My eyes follow him. My mouth is open.
He’s here.
“Wh-why didn’t you?”
“Well, after two hours of waiting, I figured you must really want to talk to me.”
He was watching me from his building. I don’t know what to make of that. I want to think he hasn’t given up on me completely. But he might after I tell him what I’m here to say.
“I did—do. I do want to talk to you.” I swallow nervously, my mouth as dry as the desert. “And I would have waited for as long as necessary to make that happen.” I need him to know that.
“Well, I’m here now, so talk.”