Chapter 27
Anne never thought she liked parties, but as she leaned against the long wood counter and watched the last of the party guests make their way to the exit, laughing and blowing kisses before disappearing into the snowscape outside, she realized that maybe she just hadn’t had enough to celebrate before.
People knew her name. They commended her work. It was as exciting as it was jarring, so much so that she had barely been aware of the time. One minute it felt like she had just arrived, and then suddenly Sophie was making her speeches, thanking everyone for coming, and wishing them a good night.
And it was a good night. Maybe one of the best she’d ever had. Except for one thing.
Freddie hadn’t shown up.
The party had been so overwhelming, at some point she had forgotten to look for him until the very end.
She had just taken for granted that he would be there, that at some point he would tap her shoulder, maybe even take her hand, and that would be it.
She would apologize, he would, too, and they could start working toward building back everything they had lost over the past eight years. But he never did.
It hurt, in a tender way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Well, I would consider that a success,” Sophie said with a satisfied sigh as she strode over to stand beside Anne.
“I think that’s the understatement of the year, Soph,” Anne said, smiling.
Sophie nodded, surveying the empty glasses strewn on the counter, the empty hors d’oeuvres platters. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”
Anne pushed off the counter with a groan. Not only had she been too distracted to feel her heart break all over again; she hadn’t felt how sore her feet were in her heels until a few minutes ago.
“Should we bring all these dishes into the back or…” Anne paused when she saw Sophie’s expression. Her friend was watching her with concern, as if mentally debating something. “What is it?”
“I just want to preface this by saying that he made me promise not to say anything until the party was over.”
Anne narrowed her eyes. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Sophie let out a long breath. “Freddie was here earlier.”
Anne’s pulse stuttered in her veins. “What?”
“He didn’t come inside because he didn’t want to distract you or something? But he wanted me to give you this.”
She reached into her pocket. When she unfurled her hand, Anne could see a small paper triangle sitting in her palm.
Suddenly, it was like the world had been put on pause.
Anne reached for it, holding it between her fingers tentatively.
“I’m going to go in the back and talk to the caterers about cleanup, okay?” Sophie said, sending Anne a knowing smirk. She didn’t wait for an answer before she disappeared through the door.
It was a long minute before Anne unfolded the note. Even then, the sight of Freddie’s handwriting, smudged here and there along the page, was almost too much. And then she began to read:
It’s Tuesday, December 2nd. You’re standing in the window of Eufloria, surrounded by people waiting to congratulate you and talk to you, and I’m standing outside watching in absolute awe.
You’re a revelation, Annie. Don’t think of ever telling someone you don’t like parties again, because they will never believe you.
It’s snowing hard now, and I can’t feel my feet.
I know I should go in and join that crowd congratulating you, but I also know that I can’t.
Because tonight is for you, about you, and if I’m there I would just insert myself in the worst way possible, because there’s only one thing I will want to say.
I love you, Annie. I have never loved anyone more than I love you. You pierce my soul every time you so much as look at me. I am half agony, half hope when you walk into a room.
And I know I don’t deserve you. I’ve been resentful and angry. And I could apologize a thousand times and it might never be enough. But please know I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I ever could.
I’m asking Sophie to wait until the party’s over to give you this. And after you read it, if you feel even a fraction of the way about me as I do about you, come home. I’ll be waiting for you.
—Freddie
Anne looked up at the empty shop, eyes wide and heart thumping against her ribs.
“Sophie!” she yelled. “I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow!”
“Not too early!” Sophie called back. “I’m treating myself to a room at the Bowery Hotel tonight and I plan to sleep in!”
Anne smiled and started for the door.
She didn’t realize she forgot her coat until she was already out the door. After just one block, her hair was covered in snow, her dress was soaking, and her heels—
BEEP!
A taxi slammed on its brakes and narrowly avoided her as she stepped into the street. The driver opened the window and flipped her the middle finger.
“Sorry!” she called out loudly over her shoulder, running onto the sidewalk, dodging piles of wet accumulation, and jumping past people congregating outside a bar, huddled together as they vaped.
“Go get ’em, girl!” one of them yelled.
She could see Tompkins Square Park in the distance, and it looked empty tonight except for the towering lit Christmas tree, the colored lights sparkling as the snow fell, but she didn’t have time to admire it. When she reached Avenue A, she turned and darted inside the lobby of the Uppercross.
It was blessedly warm when she burst inside and rushed over to the waiting elevator. She pressed eight and waited, rubbing her arms for warmth as she watched the numbers slowly light up above the doors as she ascended.
The doors slid open again once she reached the eighth floor, and Anne burst out, but stopped just as quickly. The door to 8A was slightly ajar, with the soft light of the fireplace bleeding through the crack.
She approached slowly, her teeth no longer chattering, and pushed open the door.
Inside, the apartment was warm, with only the fire lighting the space. And sitting on the long sofa in front of it was Freddie. He was facing the fire with a drink in his hand, so he didn’t notice as she stepped forward into the center of the room.
“Freddie,” she said.
He turned at the sound of his name, his expression stoic. Then his gaze darted down her body and concern knitted his brow. “Annie—”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I was so busy at the party that I didn’t see you. I didn’t know you were just outside, or that you came, or—”
“Annie.” His deep voice cut her off as he stood up. “Where’s your coat?”
She looked down. Her skin was covered in goose bumps and the delicate green fabric of her dress was sodden and sticking to her body.
“At the shop. I think.”
His eyebrows bobbed up. “You walked all the way from the shop in heels and no coat during a snowstorm.”
“Well, I got your note, and I had to talk to you, so I didn’t really have much time to plan things out.”
A grin began to tug at his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Anne Elliot without a plan?”
“I know,” she said with a soft laugh. “It’s been a big week.”
His smile faltered, as if he was considering the full weight of the past few days. Then he started toward her, reaching over and pulling a thick wool blanket from the arm of the sofa on his way.
Anne stood like a stone as he made his way across the room, keeping his gaze locked on her. It felt like her heart was beating outside her body, like he would be able to see if he looked close enough. But his eyes never left her own.
He stopped inches from her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body on her freezing skin.
Then he lifted the blanket and gently wrapped it around her, tucking it up close to her neck and cinching it tight across her chest. It was so warm she almost groaned, closing her eyes and letting the smell of his cologne surround her as she began to thaw.
“You broke up with me so I would go to Argentina.”
Her eyes snapped open again to find him still watching her, studying her reaction.
“How do you know that?” she whispered.
“Your mother told me.”
Anne’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“I ran into her tonight outside the shop.”
Oh God. She tried to think of what to say, words that might mitigate his hurt, or anger, or whatever he was feeling, because—
“I’m sorry, Annie,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
She blinked. “What are you sorry for?”
“That I didn’t figure it out sooner. That you were put in that position to begin with.
” He sighed. “That I didn’t listen for so long before that or talk about the things we needed to.
But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.
I want to discuss all of it, plan everything, do the hard stuff, but do it together. If you’ll let me.”
She stared up at him for a moment. The strong line of his jaw. The varied shades of green in his eyes. The messy brown hair. And then, she saw him. Her Freddie, the one she thought she had lost eight years ago. He was staring down at her, battle-worn and bruised, but it was him.
She smiled. “We don’t have to plan everything.”
He took a step closer, bringing his body almost flush with hers. “No?”
“No. In fact, I learned recently that it’s okay to be spontaneous once in a while.”
His grin returned. “Is that so?”
She nodded. “Yes, I can give you some pointers.”
“I’d like that.” He reached up and brushed a strand of wet hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I love you, Annie.”
Joy swelled in her chest, so bright and warm that she couldn’t feel her cold skin anymore. She could only see him. “I love you, too, Freddie.”
He let out a long breath. “God, I missed hearing you say that.”
She couldn’t stop herself anymore. She stood up on her tiptoes, angling her mouth to his, and kissed him, warm and slow.
He stilled, then his arms were around her, kissing her back like he had been starved of her.
Then he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he started toward his bedroom.