Chapter 3: The Pause Between Breaths
An awkward collision
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I’ve slammed into this man so hard that my teeth clatter. We’re chest to chest, pinned together so tightly that even the air can’t breathe. For a few seconds, neither do I.
The shock registers first, unmooring me from my body, as if I’m floating. My limbs feel light and weightless until the man shifts against me. His movement pulls my attention, and that’s when the pain rushes in, skittering through my bones.
I run my tongue along my front teeth. No chip, but probably a bruised rib. And ego. I’m fairly certain I see my dignity sprinting down the hallway.
Why is everything in life so painful?
I take a deep breath to settle myself, and notice that the air smells strange, like cigarette smoke and sweat. The aromas aren’t overpowering. They seem veiled, more like memories. Still, they’re out of place. You can’t smoke in apartment hallways, and neither of us is sweating.
Weird.
“Are you okay?” The man’s voice rattles behind my ribs like a love song on repeat. My muscles soften.
“Is that a trick question?”
He smirks.
My arms lift before my brain can stop them, wrapping around his waist as if this precise movement has been tattooed onto my muscles.
“Ahem.” His body tightens.
What am I doing? My cheeks flush, and I quickly step back.
But this stranger continues standing in front of me. All calm and composed. Looking like some friggin’ holosphere model. Specks of gray soften his dark hair. His emerald eyes sparkle. And that smile; it’s warm and welcoming and nuzzles down into the center of my chest. This guy is really pissing me off.
I just plowed into him. He should be pissed. Or, at least bruised. But he seems fine. Better than fine. He’s giving pleasant. Maybe he thinks he’s one of the evolved men all the spiritualists talk about. These men who can hold space, have an emotional skill set, and understand boundaries. I don’t buy any of it.
“Is closed-door-lingering a thing now?” I bark at him.
“I didn’t expect anyone to come running out of the apartment. Are you okay? You seem–”
I study his face. His sharp cheekbones and the tiny space between his front teeth. I know this guy. My brain starts spooling back to somewhere.
“...upset.” He finishes his sentence.
“Hadley?” The name slips out before it registers in my brain, and my eyes bulge. I quickly look down.
Who the eff is Hadley?
“No, I’m–”
“Sage, darling? I just need two more minutes to meditate on your aura?”Aleta calls from her doorway.
“You’re here for a reading?” I chuckle. It sounds like I’m mocking him. Which, I guess, I am. I shove my hands inside my pockets. The butterfly charm is warm against my fingers, almost hot.
Why is the charm hot?
“You were here for a reading, I assume.” Sage cocks his head to the side.
I take my hands out of my pockets. “Yeah, but only because my friend kept badgering me. She believes in…” I hear myself stammering. “And now this one’s talking about some ridiculous new love that will never happen when I only wanted to….” I point to Aleta’s door and swallow down the tears I know are coming. “I just wanted to–”
My eyes travel to the elevator. It registers as though it’s miles away, though it’s probably only twenty feet. I just want to get out of this building, away from Aleta and this weird interaction, and back with Karner at the cemetery. Back to where I’m comfortable, as sad as that sounds.
Sage nods, but says nothing. He lets me ramble and try on different words. He’s giving me space, even though we’re standing inches apart. All the while, his face remains calm and curious.
What a prick.
I drop my gaze. “Are those creases in your jeans?” I look back up at him. “You iron your jeans?”
Sage’s cheeks redden. “Whatever they do at the InstaClean.”
“Yeah, that’s uhm—” I look at the elevator again, as I casually cross one foot over the other in an unsuccessful attempt to hide the glaring stain on my sweatpants.
“So, did you like Aleta’s reading?”
I narrow my eyes. “Why would I tell you that?”
“Because you look like you need someone to hear you.” Sage opens his palms to me. “You seem upset.”
“How would you know how I feel?”
His eyes dim. “I’m not trying to upset you.”
This guy’s steady demeanor feels like acid on my skin. His calmness is only escalating my un-calmness. I growl and turn toward the elevators, but my feet lag and I stumble. Tumbling, again, into him.
His hands shoot out, and then they're on me. Holding me.
Tiny shockwaves ripple through my body. There’s a familiarity to his touch, like my shoulders know the weight of his fingertips. A craving scuttles across my skin.
“Sorry,” I mumble. My knees threaten to buckle.
“My pleasure.”
“Uhm—” I notice his hands as I right myself.
I know those hands.
He blushes again.
Maybe he does have a softness to him. Blushing is hard to fake. But still–
“Sage, darling,” Aleta calls from the doorway.
My heart lurches at the idea of him walking away, like my body knows something that my brain does not. But I don’t know this guy. I’ve never even seen him before.
And he’s here for a reading; he probably believes in this bullshit. Not to mention, no one this good-looking needs to have this level of interpersonal skills.
I don’t trust him.
“Have a good reading.” My voice registers high and condescending as I step around his body and speedwalk toward the elevator. Emptiness rushes back behind my heart. My brain is a tumble of confusion and heartbreak.
Heartbreak? This is absurd. How can I be heartbroken over someone I don’t know? Maybe I’m hallucinating. Or having some kind of psychotic break.
“Did you see the sign?” Sage calls out.
“What sign?” I spin around and now notice a blinking screen: ELEVATOR OUT OF SERVICE is written in big, bold neon pink lettering. I stare at the letters, dumbfounded. How did I not see this sign?
“You sure you’re okay?” Sage steps toward me
My hand shoots up, stopping him. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine,” I mutter more to myself as I walk toward the other end of the hallway. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sage raise his eyebrows, nod, and then step into Aleta’s apartment.
I pause just inside the stairwell and wrap my fingers around my arm, overlaying the imprint where Sage’s fingers had been. I close my eyes and try to breathe life back into the emotions he stirred.
But there’s nothing.
The feeling’s gone.
He’s gone.
Like Andrew.
Like Karner.
Like the core of myself.
I sigh and rub my eyes when something flickers behind my lids.
Rumpled sheets. Skin. Sweat.
Arms wrap around me.
Hands press into my lower back.
A gentle breeze stirs the lily petals scattered about the hardwood floor.
I can’t shake this feeling, this familiarity. It’s like an insistent memory–stretching, clawing, forcing its way into my consciousness.
I blink. Then again. But the flashes behind my eyes only come faster.
I feel someone’s breath against my neck.
In my mind, a siren screams out from the street below our apartment.
The butterfly charm burns like a hot stone in my pocket.
What’s going on?
My heart pounds up into my ears as I look back at Aleta’s door.
My muscles curl underneath my skin.
I’ve known that man before.
I’ve been his before.