What I want, Chapter Sixteen.

He followed her to the apartment building, and followed her in, at a safe distance. He could tell that she was almost crying, though, so it hardly mattered that she didn't see him, when he was certain that she wouldn't look.

He waited until she was in her apartment before he went up the elevator, and knocked on her door.

He'd brought a dozen red roses.

He set them on the doorstep, knocked, and stood next to the door, waiting.

It was a couple of minutes before she came to the door. Her eyes were red, and her skin blotchy.

And when she looked out, all she saw was the flowers. She picked them up, then looked left, right. And she saw him.

"Scott." She said. "What are you doing here?"

"I want to talk to you." He said. "I saw you at the club. You were exquisite."

"Thank you." She said. She was tempted, very tempted, to throw her arms around him, and kiss him until neither of them could breathe any more, but she couldn't. "Would you like to come in?"

"Sure." He said, and stepped over the threshold after her.

"I'm going to go put these in water." She said. Her voice was tense. She may have wished for this, but she had never expected it.

But there he was, sitting in her front room, waiting for her to come out of the kitchen. Waiting for her to do what else?

She filled a vase up with water, and then set the roses in it. She carried it out, and set it on her dining room table. "Would you like something to drink?" She asked him.

"No." he said, wondering why she was being so tense. It wasn't as if she didn't know him. It wasn't as if they hadn't kissed, and she hadn't told him all of her deepest secrets. "I want to talk to you." He said again.

"About what?" She asked.

He blinked, twice. It would sound awkward. "You and me, and what happened."

"We don't need to do that." She said. "I understand what happened, and it's fine with me. I've moved on."

"Kitty." He said. "I don't think you do."

"What's not to understand." She said. "You were bored, I was there."

She didn't even sound bitter, she sounded like she didn't care. Like it was a fact, like it had happened before, and would happen again. "That's not it Kitty." He said.

"Right." She said. "Then, why, exactly, did you go back to Jean the moment she walked in the door?"

"I had to talk to her." He said. "Listen, I should have explained it better before she got there, but, I had to tell her that I couldn't be with her anymore." He paused, then looked at her. She didn't believe him. He knew she didn't believe him. "Kitty, you have to believe me."

"Right." She said. "That's why it's taken you eight months to come and tell me?"

"It's a long story." He said. "I'm not sure if you would believe me."

"I won't." She said. "Now, it was nice seeing you, but I'll have to ask you to leave."

"I'll come back." He said.

"That's nice." She said. "I'll still be here, and I still won't believe you."

Then, she stood up, and he walked to the door with her. Then, before he walked out, he took her hand, and kissed it, and then stepped out, and closed the door.

She collapsed against the door, and began to cry.