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Stepping out of the bookstore, I almost stepped into a woman pushing a stroller. I mumbled an apology before turning and walking down the pavement. Our steps echoed on the sidewalk. I snuck a glance at her—the way the breeze toyed with her brunette curls, how she hugged her arms tight against the chill.
"Let's go to my place." She said and glanced at me as I nodded.
We reached her apartment building, the tower glinting in the sunlight. She fished out her keys, the metal clinking softly in the evening light.
"Tea?" she offered, pushing open the door once we got up to her penthouse suite.
"Sure," I whispered, my insides twisting into knots. How was I going to make this right?
Her living room welcomed us, the walls lined with bookshelves and a cozy couch inviting us to sit. I perched on the edge, my senses heightened, and every detail was as sharp as glass.
"Sit back. Relax." She nudged a cushion toward me, her eyes warm pools of brown.
I let myself sink into the couch, the cushions soft against my skin. Agatha sat across from me, legs tucked beneath her, the distance between us charged with unsaid words.
"Arnold," she started, her fingers tracing the seam of a throw pillow.
"I am so sorry. I've been so stupid." I felt even worse than I already did. She was here, trying to make things right. I had known what she did, it's how we met and then I used it against her. How dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb.
"Look at us." She chuckled, self-deprecating. "Two peas in a pod of awkwardness."
"Always have been." I smiled, feeling the ice inside beginning to thaw.
"Can we—"
"Talk? Yeah." I cut in, wanting to show I was here, really here, for this.
"Good." She let out a breath, shoulders dropping a fraction.
I cleared my throat, the silence between us stretching thin. Agatha's gaze locked on mine, her eyes shimmering with a mix of hope and hurt. "Arnold, I've got to be honest with you. You know how much I care about you, right?"
"Of course." My voice came out hoarse. My palms felt clammy. Shame stuck hard in my chest.
"And I want us... to get past this." She bit her lip, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Agatha, I—"
"Let me finish." She held up a hand, firm but gentle. "I accepted you, Arnold. The entire quirky, sweet package. I need that in return."
My chest tightened. She was right. Damn right. My fingers twitched, reaching across the space to brush against hers. "I screwed up," I said, my grip on her hand growing firmer. "Jealousy got the best of me."
Her brow furrowed, waiting for more.
"I want to be with you, Aggy. More than anything." I squeezed her hand, hoping she'd feel the truth in my touch. "And your career... I'll work on it. Accepting it, I mean."
"Really?" Her voice wavered, hopeful.
"Really." I nodded, not trusting my voice not to crack. God, I hoped she accepted my apology; I really meant it. I wanted this with her. She was an angel, sent to me, and I almost messed everything up.
I watched her features melt into something softer, her anger dissolving like sugar in hot tea. Her deep brown eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a swell of something warm and buoyant in my chest.
She leaned forward, slow but sure, and I met her halfway. Our lips touched a sweet pressure that said more than words could. My heart thumped a confession against my ribs – I was scared but didn't want to hide from her anymore.
We stood together, the distance of an argument now just a memory. She pulled back, a line of saliva connecting our lips, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. "God, you're such a dork," she whispered, but there was no bite in it, only affection.
"Guilty," I admitted, feeling my own lips curve upward.
Her laughter was a song I wanted on repeat. She took my hand, tugging me toward the bedroom with a playful sort of urgency.
