The elevator to the fifth floor moved at a glacial pace. Thoughts raced through my mind, each bombarding me with different emotions. In the time it had taken to arrive on Livvie’s floor, I had changed my mind about what to say or do a dozen times.

I could turn around, change hotels, and let her wonder where the hell I’d gone. I could pound on her door and make a scene in the hall. I could push my way past her when she opened the door and refuse to leave until she gave me answers. I could tell her to go fuck herself and then leave.

I could.

I wouldn’t.

I took a deep breath and knocked. My heart beat a staccato rhythm and my breaths filled in the gaps. I’d been in more than my fair share of perilous situations, but few had the ability to affect me so physically.

After a few seconds, the door opened. A small chain prevented it from opening fully. Livvie’s tear-stained face looked at me through the gap. My anger evaporated and fear blossomed.

“Are you okay? You didn’t call.”

Livvie glanced away and shut the door in my face. I heard her dealing with the chain just before the door reopened and she motioned me inside. I stepped slowly and carefully. As I let my eyes wander around her apartment, I realized I’d never walked in Livvie’s world. I didn’t know all the different sides of her. There was a blue sofa and a coffee table in the shape of a splat. Fake orange daisies stuck out of a vase filled with clear marbles. Framed posters adorned her walls: Interview with a Vampire, The Crow, The Social Network, Inception, a poster of four different colored records, and a half-naked man whose virtues were compared to chocolate.

I felt conspicuously out of place. Livvie was young. She cared about movies, music, and boys. She preferred bright colors. I smiled when I saw her PlayStation. A set of drumsticks, a microphone, and a plastic guitar were crammed up against the TV stand. I wondered if Livvie liked to sing or if she preferred one of the instruments. I wondered who she played with and decided the couple she was always with seemed the most likely. They knew her in ways I didn’t. It made me jealous.

“I’m sorry,” Livvie said as she walked toward a side door. She was wearing a pink robe with teddy bears on it. I would never have chosen an outfit like that for her. I followed her onto her balcony and watched her light a cigarette. “I got out of work late and I figured you were probably asleep.” She inhaled deeply and let the smoke out smoothly, a sign of a well-seasoned smoker.

“How long have you been smoking?” I asked. I hadn’t noticed her smoking during the course of my surveillance. She smiled and scoffed sarcastically.

“You going to give me shit about it?”

“No. We all have our bad habits.” I would be doing something about the smoking, but I didn’t need to get into it right then. She turned her head toward me and gave me a grin.

“Not all my habits are bad.”

I smiled despite my unease.

“There’s a few I’m quite fond of,” I quoted her. I stepped closer and brushed her hair away from her forehead. I liked touching her. I liked to remind myself she was alive. To my relief, she closed her eyes and enjoyed my touch.

“I only do it when I’m stressed out. I took it up after I left the hospital. I haven’t had one in months.” She turned away and took another drag from her cigarette.

“What’s the real reason you didn’t call?” My fear surged. “Did you… change your mind? About us?”

She glanced at me over her shoulder before pointedly staring off into the night. She took two more drags from her cigarette.

“I don’t know what us is.”

My eyes were burning. The smoke, maybe.

“It could be whatever you want it to be, Livvie. Or it could be nothing. It’s up to you.” I knew the moment the words left my mouth they were a lie. She scowled at me.

“No, Caleb, it’s not so simple. It’s been a year. A fucking year! You never gave me the chance to be angry with you. You just disappeared and left me to worry that maybe you were dead. I had the FBI up my ass and the whole time—the whole time—I defended you. I defended what you did to me because I loved you and you’d just risked everything to save me. And now you walk back into my life.” She wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “And goddammit I can’t bear the thought of being without you again. But there’s all this other shit too. All the things I never let myself feel because I didn’t want to admit that maybe Reed and Sloan were right. Maybe I can’t love you.”

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as my dormant and underutilized emotions were accosted.

“Please,” I heard myself whisper. I didn’t even know what I was asking for. Perhaps it was only that I wanted her to stop saying those things. Her words hurt me. They hurt me more than I thought anything could hurt. They hurt nearly as much as the memory of Rafiq’s eyes going dead. My own words taunted me.

“I did think it was really cute when you said you loved me though.”

Livvie, in her infinite capacity for compassion, put out her cigarette and wrapped her arms around my waist. I took the lifeline she offered and held her in my arms. I might have squeezed her too hard. I didn’t want to let her go. I couldn’t.

“Caleb,” she gasped. I loosened my grip but didn’t let her go. “I don’t want you to disappear again. Please, promise me you won’t.”

I searched blindly for my voice and had to clear my throat before I could speak.

“I promise, Livvie. But I… I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been here before.”

“Neither have I, Caleb. And we’re seriously more fucked up than anyone else I know.” She laughed morosely. “But you have to give me time. You have to let me be mad at you. You have to promise that no matter what I say or do, you’ll forgive me. You’ll wait for me to let it go.”

So many emotions and I couldn’t let them out. I settled for stating the obvious.

“Livvie, I’ll forgive you whatever the hell you want. You don’t need my forgiveness; you never have to ask for it. It’s yours, Livvie. Anything that’s mine to give is already yours.” I placed my fingers in her hair and tilted her face up to mine. Her lips were salty with tears, her mouth tasted like smoke, but beyond that there was just Livvie. I needed Livvie.

In my best interpretation of every superhero movie I’d ever seen (and I hadn’t seen too many by that time), I lifted Livvie into my arms and carried her inside. She kindly gave me directions to her bedroom. We made love on her pastel-yellow sheets amidst a ridiculous amount of throw pillows.

***

Later, after we’d finished having sex, Livvie engaged me in conversation. It reminded me of Mexico. We had always been better in the dark. I’m going to spare you and, admittedly, myself the agony of the details of what happened after we finished making love. You know what Livvie went through. You know the truth about my past. After that night, I knew it too.

I learned my name had been James Cole. I had been born to an American named Elizabeth Cole and a man known only as Vlad. I was five when I’d been kidnapped and sent to live as a whore. My mother killed herself when I was twelve. I couldn’t help but take notice I’d been taken under Rafiq’s care around the same time. I wondered if he’d known my mother was dead when he’d decided to “rescue” me.

I couldn’t remember her face. I would always remember Rafiq’s. Meanwhile a voice nagged me: Vladek is your father. Your father is still alive.

“Are you okay?” Livvie whispered against my neck. I could feel her tears dripping on me. I could feel her arm wrapped tightly around my chest. I could feel her heart beating against my ribs.

I felt. I fucking felt and it was awful.

I pulled her close and ran my fingers across the small of her back, taking whatever comfort I could find in having her close to me. She was alive. I was alive. We were together. I tried to focus on that.