My head is still spinning, trying to organize itself, when the elevator opens and she steps out. She doesn’t see me—the hotel lobby is fairly crowded—but I see her. And all that confusion, all that second-guessing is thrown out the window because I do know what I’m doing. I have only ever loved one person in my entire life and she’s here and fuck it, I don’t care about the rest. I want to know if this could be something. If we could ever forgive each other. If we could ever try again.
