She walked into his apartment with tentative steps, her boots sounding lightly on the hardwood floor. She had never seen this place, which seemed all at once strange and simple to him. He followed her as far as the kitchen and then waited and watched while she studied the life he led in his furniture, walls, photographs and piano. He imagined how it might look to her, to recognize bits and pieces, but not be familiar with the whole.
It was how he felt when he looked at her.
She lingered beside the baby grand, tucked into a corner near the exposed brick wall, and stretched out an idle finger to press down the lowest key. It vibrated through the room even after she released it. Ephram thought back to the day he'd hauled the black, hulking beast off the street and through the wide second story window. It took weeks to re-perfect the tune. As though guessing, "How did you get that in here?" she asked, shrugging off her coat and failing at a casual tone.
Ephram moved forward and took the coat from her shoulders, so close once more. "We lifted it," he answered. The coat slid down her arms and into his hands. The outer shell was cold to the touch, but the satin lining held her heat. "Through the window."
"We?" she asked, as he laid her coat over the nearby armchair. The hall closet was across the room. He didn't know if he had the power to move that far from her just yet.
"Me and some friends." Friends that she didn't know. Wouldn't need to know because she wasn't a part of his life anymore. Except, here she was, standing in his apartment, being a part of his life. No matter how impossible that seemed.
She turned to look out his window and he closed the cover over the keyboard.
