Page 102 of Plus One

Tedrow patted him on the shoulder. “I’d better get back to the group. Take good care of her. I’m sure we’ll talk more eventually.” He headed down the hallway directly across from the elevator.

The space was like a half sun whose rays burst out in three directions. Full of possibility. Tedrow’s frame filled his line of sight, blocking what awaited at the end of these off-center and curved halls.

Maurice blinked and looked away, down a darkened hall to his left. Blinked again. His vision was filled with Monique.

Head hung, shoulders slumped, her black dress dusting the floor with each slow step.

The urge to run to her was so powerful. He didn’t move.

She never lifted her gaze as she approached the foyer, her route hugging the wall, their curve guiding her left.

He shifted. Unable to control himself.

She looked his way.

Finally.

For too many long breaths, they stood and stared. Her eyes were darker than he remembered. More tired. Sadder. Cheeks more drawn. Lips quivering as tears spilled over her lashes.

He rushed forward just as her knees buckled.

“I gotchu,” he said, gathering her in his arms as she clung to his jacket lapel. “I’m here. I gotchu,” he chanted against the crown of her head as she crumbled.

He held her there and let her cry. No trying to stop it. No right thing to say. Nothing to say at all. He just stood there in the marble foyer of a stranger’s home and held Monique while she cried herself out, grateful to be the one allowed to do it.

After a while, he whispered, “You wanna get outta here?”

She sniffled and nodded a resounding, albeit soggy, affirmative into his chest.

CHAPTER 27Monique

What was he doing here? How was he here?

At the first step he took toward her, all the questions she had dissolved. Monique didn’t really care about the logistics of it all as she breathed him in, the space against his heart that drummed so hard and fast and matching her own.

All day, she’d been moving. Moving through the cold, through the service, through self-control. She was tired and didn’t want to move anymore.

She pressed her face farther into his coat.

Maurice didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to make it better. He just kept his arms around her and let her take what she needed.

His coat was still cold from outside. The fabric scratched against her cheek. She welcomed the sensation because underneath was the warmth of him. Woodsy and citrusy. His heartbeat was so fast—she hadn’t expected that. He always looked so measured, so steady, on the outside. But against her cheek, his heart was running.

He was here. An answer to a wish she hadn’t dared speak aloud. A dream she was angry to wake from.

“Is this real?” She tried to breathe deep, to catch her footing, but she was floating. Adrift in this fantasy that someone—and not just anyone—buthehad come to see after her. Even after she’d gone silent. After she’d let the calls and texts go unanswered. After she’d told herself it was better this way.

He came anyway.

Strong arms increased their hold on her as if they knew she would vanish at the slightest shift in the wind. “Let’s get your coat,” Maurice said, leading her to the rack near the elevators that held more than a dozen jackets. “Do you want to say goodbye first?”

She grunted anoand remained tucked under his arm, even as he sorted through the parkas with one hand. Opening her eyes meant real life awaited her. Monique wasn’t ready for any of that. She was content to huff his scent, listen to the gentle rumble of his voice, and never open her eyes.

“Which is yours? Sweetheart, you can’t go out without a coat.”

“Let’s just go. Please.”

Her voice was muffled by the layers he wore, but somehow, he heard. They shuffled toward the elevators, her coat abandoned.