Stay

It all made sense. He had been looking at his watch the whole evening, every few minutes, before obliging her.

Checking his watch, he had said, "Sure, I'll help you."

Checking his watch, he had said, "Sure," again.

Checking his watch, he had said, "Of course I am, I just have to make a call."

He had half-carried her to her apartment, attempted to apply makeup for her, called a cab for her, went to the hospital with her, brought her back, and insisted she get some sleep. Cheerfully, willingly, and neglecting to mention the great opportunity he had cast aside for her sake.

"I knew that if I told you, you'd make me go, and I knew you needed someone to be with you tonight."

"I'm sorry I spoiled your evening."

"No, as long as you're okay."

And now she was standing here, with a sore side and faded eyeshadow, trying to reconcile the heartless horny bastard she'd concocted in her mind with the walking heart that had just closed the door behind him. It was all too easy to brush him off as another loser in her past when she had kept her distance; bringing him back into the fold was supposed to prove how much better off they were as friends.

But another loser wouldn't have passed up the greatest leap his career for her. Another loser wouldn't have saved her friends' car and agreed to give them space. Another loser would have kept his t-shirt that she loved. Another loser would have slept with Chloe without a break.

Her rib suddenly didn't hurt so much. Not as much as the sting in her eyes and the lump in her throat, her body's reaction to the inescapable truth that the man she gave up had done nothing but love her. "Oh god, Oh, god, Oh god," she mumbled through her tears, stumbling blindly to the door and wrenching it open with her good hand.

He was sitting in the hallway with his head hung low, but looked up with his puppy dog eyes as she stood in the doorway.

"Uh-" he croaked clearing his throat. "Uh, what-what are you doing?"

She pushed the words out her trembling lips. "Stay."

He opened his mouth again, but no words came out. She tried again.

"Please stay. I love you-" her voice quivered "-I-I don't wanna be alone, I don't wanna move on, I just. . .I needed a little time. But I'm all out of time now." She wrung her hands at the sight of him widening his eyes in shock, tensing every muscle in his body like a cool breeze has swept through the hall.

"What-what are you saying? A-are you forgiving me for. . .?"

She had a strange urge to laugh and cry at the same time, but suppressed it. "I forgave you a long time ago, and I'm sorry for a lot more. I just didn't know it. And tonight. . .you did everything for me and asked for nothing back. Like you always do. Like you always have." She let her hands fall to her sides in surrender. "I just-wanna do the same for you- for us."

He stood up and approached her cautiously. "Okay, so, when you say-for us. . .like, what are you-what do you want from me? I-"

"I want to be with you again," she interrupted, stepping closer to him. "I'm asking you to stay."

The lost look in his eyes pulled at her heartstrings as she watched him process this new information. His arms kept moving at his sides, as if in conflict over whether or not to touch her. His lips kept twitching with words unsaid. The seconds of silence seemed to stretch for miles ahead of them. She could feel her heat pounding in her chest; what if he said no? What if he said too much had changed? What if she had to bend down on her knees and hug his waist to make him stay?

Out of nowhere, she felt his warm hands on her waist, turning her around and guiding her back into apartment 20.

"We should get some sleep," he murmured in her ear, closing the door behind him.

She felt her eyes sting and well up, her body floating on air. "Is that code for, 'I forgive you?'"

He stopped her, turned her face towards his and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "No." Gently capturing her lips in a warm kiss, he finished, "It's code for, 'I love you.'"