Whole

Of course I was in the bathroom when the bell rang at Amy’s. Not any bathroom, but the one at the other end of the apartment. That’s my sixth sense for you. I scampered toward the front door, my heart racing. I stormed into the living room and hardly stopped to make sure it was him. A heartbeat later, I was jumping into his open arms.

We didn’t laugh, we didn’t talk, we didn’t kiss. We just stood there, hugging each other as tightly as we could. And it was so weird. Because at that moment in his arms, my cheek against his chest, hearing his heart pound, feeling the light weight of his face against my hair, I felt that ever since I’d tiptoed out of that hotel room, I’d been lacking something vital I hadn’t noticed was missing. But not anymore. Now I was whole again.

I don’t know how long we remained like that, a minute or a year. But he eventually kissed my hair and loosened his arms around me, just enough for me to