The weather in Miami that night was anything but typical. Icy wind whipped around Calleigh's face, slapping her with her own damp hair. If she had had any tears left, that cold wind would have probably had her eyes watering too, but instead, they just stung like hell, chapped from all her damn crying. She wrapped her arms tightly around her shivering torso trying to warm as much of herself as she could and looked down at her freezing, bare feet which were still carrying her down the cold, black asphalt of their own volition. It wasn't as though she could feel them anymore.
Yes, of their own volition. She was on autopilot, bound for a destination over which she had no control. Had she any choice in the matter, she would not be going down this street at this time of night. She would not be walking through this parking lot nor would she be climbing this staircase. She definitely would not be standing in front of this door to this condo too numb from the cold or her own fear to knock.
But here she stood freezing, damp, tired physically from the two-mile hike it took to get here, tired emotionally from the night's events, and tired of just standing there. She reached a tentative hand up towards the small brass door-knocker only to jerk it back again. Who was she kidding? She knew she wasn't going to knock. She wasn't that kind of person.
No, she wasn't that kind of person at all. She was strong. She was independent. She wasn't some needy woman who had to be comforted by some man, who had to have someone hold her and wipe away her tears and tell her everything would be alright. She could take care of herself just fine without anyone else's help.
Yet she was standing here outside his door. Honestly, she had no right to be. She had chosen someone else. He had even told her how he felt about her, though he didn't have to. Calleigh saw it in his eyes every time he looked at her. She heard it in his voice when he spoke to her. She saw it in every move he made in her presence. It was always there, just below the surface calling out to what she couldn't admit was just below her surface. She chose someone else.
So she stood there unmoving in the frigid night air, unable to reach out or walk away. Finally, she sighed, resolved and turned to leave. That's when the door opened.
"Calleigh," asked a confused, sleepy and slightly alarmed Eric.
She froze. If her feet were numb before, it was nothing compared to the physical petrification her body underwent at the sound of Eric's voice. How could she justify her being here at this time of night in the unkempt state that she was in? How could she explain this away? Could she make up a quick excuse that would cause him not to worry? No, he knew her too well. He would see right through anything she tried to hide behind.
"Calleigh," Eric repeated, softer this time.
He had stepped closer to her. When she felt his hand brush her shoulder, she turned slowly tucking an errant piece of soggy hair behind her ear. She looked down at her feet again which were now aching terribly from the cold. She studied the pink polish that was now chipping away thanks to her little stroll. He reached his warm hand up to cradle her icy cheek and she felt her façade falter. His hand guided her face slowly up to look at him. When her eyes met his, the dam broke.
Her bottom lip began quivering. The tears that she thought had dried up came flooding down her face. She broke, right there before him and collapsed against his warm body and he caught her like he always did. He pulled her into the apartment and to the couch where he sat with her and held her tight, lightly running his fingers through her hair and telling her everything would be alright.
When Calleigh calmed and her wracking sobs turned into intermittent sniffs, he asked her what was wrong, why she was so upset and why she had showed up on his doorstep half-frozen and barefoot. So, she told him.