Chapter 15: My Reflection Answered For Me
The hallway air was cooler than the apartment had been. I'd stepped out and didn't look back right away because I knew if I did I'd see him framed in the doorway, and I wasn't ready to trade the hallway's quiet for his face again.
I heard the door click behind me. Not slammed. A soft pull-to, then the deadbolt turned from the inside. He locked it himself. I knew the sound — that heavy turn we'd both complained about when we moved in. It wasn't him locking me out. It was him staying in.
My bag swung against my hip as I walked. The white chain strap had gone warm from my hand. I shifted it to my right shoulder the way I always carried it and felt the tie on my dress brush my thigh with each step. The carpet in the hall was thin and gray, the kind that showed every vacuum line, and it gave way to concrete at the stairwell door.
Outside hit me all at once. Daylight that had looked soft through the living room windows was actually bright and flat over the parking lot. Heat rose off the asphalt in a thin shimmer. A sheriff's cruiser rolled slow past the front office on the county road beyond the lot, and somewhere an air conditioner hummed hard.
My car was where I'd left it, second row from the building, under the faint shade of a maple that didn't quite reach. I unlocked it and the chirp sounded too loud. I slid into the driver's seat and pulled the door shut behind me, and for the first time since I'd said don't touch me anymore, nobody was in the air with me.
The seat was hot through the dress. I sat for a second with my hands on the wheel just breathing. My breathing sounded strange after all that shallow holding-in. Then I tipped the rearview toward me.
I saw myself. Not how he'd been looking at me, not how I thought he wanted me to look. My hair had gotten messier than I'd realized, a wave stuck to my cheek with sweat. I tucked it back. The silver pendant had twisted, chain knotted a little at the clasp. I reached up and straightened it, my fingers lingering on the cool metal. I smoothed the front of the dress where the slit had ridden up, retied the little side tie so it lay flat. It was a small movement, just for me, because the fabric had bothered me.
I wasn't fixing myself for anyone coming. I was just making myself feel right again in my own car, in the heat, with my bag beside me.
I picked up my phone from the bag's front pocket. My hands didn't shake now. I typed one message and read it twice before I sent it.
I'm in the lot. I need a couple hours alone. I'll be back around five to talk if you can listen without asking who I'm dressing for. I wore this for me.
I hit send. I didn't add sorry. I didn't add please don't be mad. I set the phone face-up on the passenger seat next to my bag. The white chain caught the sun coming through the windshield and threw a thin gold glint on the ceiling.
I looked up toward our building. Our second-floor window was right there, above the second-floor landing. The blinds were open the way they'd been all afternoon. I could see the warm lamp light still on inside, and high in the corner of the wall, the flag hanging vertical, red and white and still, exactly where it had been during every word we'd said to each other. From the lot it looked smaller, just a rectangle of color behind glass, not looming over us anymore.
My phone lit up.
Okay. I hear you. Five is good. I'll be here. Door's locked so you have space coming back in on your terms. I won't ask that again.
No question after it. No who. No why. Just what time and what he wouldn't do.
I let out a breath I hadn't known I was still holding and it made a small sound in the quiet car. I leaned back and the seat creaked. The air conditioner pushed cool air over my knees and ruffled the hem of the dress, and I didn't adjust it this time.
May you like
On the passenger seat my bag sat exactly where I'd put it, strap folded neatly, waiting. I didn't need to open it. I had my keys, I had my phone, I had the pendant resting right where I'd put it. Outside, the lot was empty except for heat and a couple of sparrows hopping near the drain.
I kept the rearview angled toward me, just enough to see my own eyes looking back, steady now, and behind me in that little mirror the building with its flag still visible, smaller with distance, no longer the whole room we were trapped in.
