Running a shaking hand through his hair, he said, “I know that, and I’ve known it all along.” When he looked at me this time, it was hard to tell in the low light of the lobby, but I was almost certain there were tears in his eyes. “I can’t even begin to apologize enough, and I don’t know how I can convince you that this is the God’s honest truth.”

For a moment, he was silent, probably waiting to see if I’d respond. I wanted to, but I didn’t know how. At this point, I was lucky I still remembered how to breathe.

After a long silence, he must have assumed I couldn’t-or wouldn’t-reply, and continued.

“I’ve been holding back from the beginning,” he said. “You put more into this than I ever had any business asking for, even when you weren’t getting a damned thing in return. It shouldn’t have been like that.” He stepped toward me. “It shouldn’t be like that.”

My heart pounded, blood thundering in my ears. He’d moved us into the present tense, brought us back out of the past and into the now. Of course I’d expected him to suggest getting back together, but now it was out there. Subtle or not, it was there. Spoken. Brought to life.

He came a little closer. The distance between us shrank, pulling the air out of my lungs.

“Zach, say something,” he whispered. “Give me-” He caught himself, cursing under his breath and looking away for a moment. When he met my eyes again, he said, “I don’t know what else to say.”

And I didn’t know either. “Maybe,” I said quietly, “there’s nothing left to say.”

His eyes widened and his lips parted. “Wait, please-” But he stopped when I took a step toward him.

“Maybe,” I said. “We’ve said everything we need to say.” Slowly, cautiously, watching him as I did, I reached across the chasm between us and touched his hand.

He held his breath and I held mine, the universe coming to a complete halt as our hands made contact. He watched his fingers wrap around mine. A silent, breathless eternity passed before I convinced my own fingers to respond. They laced between his and closed, completing this subtle reconnection.

Then he looked at me, and we both smiled. He touched my face gently, drawing me closer with only his fingertips. The warmth of his breath on my skin made me shiver, and it was only then that I caught the vague hint of mint. Probably gum he’d chewed on the way down the sidewalk. The cigarette he’d had outside must have been an afterthought, a last-ditch effort to settle his nerves, even if it diminished the effect of the mint.

But still, the mint was there. He may not have known he was going to kiss me, but he’d hoped to.

And now that he was so close I could almost taste him, I realized I’d hoped, from the second his Zippo lighter had broken the silence earlier, that he’d kiss me.

“Zach, I need to give you something,” he said, drawing me still closer. “Something I should have given you a long time ago.”

Our lips were nearly touching, but I managed to say, “And that is?”

Just before he kissed me, he whispered:

“Everything.”

To learn more about L.A. Witt, please visit www.loriawitt.com. Send an email to thethinker42@gmail.com.