I pulled up to Jared’s loft and took a deep breath. His Escalade wasn’t parked in front, but I tried the door, anyway. I kept my eyes on the doorknob as I waited, willing it to twist open. Dogs barked down the dark street and I suddenly felt uneasy. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how safe I felt with Jared; the alley had never seemed frightening before.

I walked back to the Beemer, defeated. He would have called if it was anything other than the worst scenario. He had either broken his promise not to leave me, or he was in danger. After twenty minutes and still no call from Jared, my lungs began to feel less satisfied with every breath and my eyes welled over with tears.

A knock resounded on my window and I jumped. Claire’s flawless face was on the other side.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop. Something came up. I’m here to let you in.”

I stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Her explanation didn’t make sense, but the knowledge that he had sent her to let me in the loft extinguished half of my fears.

“Is he okay?” I asked, following her down the alley.

“Uh…yeah. You worry too much,” she said, her annoyed expression obvious even in the dark.

She led me up the iron stairs of the entry way, and then opened the door to let me inside. I ran up the stairs to the loft and collapsed into the bed. An overwhelming feeling of relief tore through me, and I did my best to weep quietly to avoid further ridicule from Claire.

I dried my eyes as I heard her light footsteps climb the stairs and stop beside the bed.

“Wow,” she deadpanned, chomping on a wad of gum too big for her petite mouth. “Why don’t you take a shower?” she asked.

I ignored her.

Claire sighed and sat down on Jared’s side of the bed.

I froze for a moment, bracing for an obnoxious comment from her. She sat quietly.

I shot a confused glance her way. “W…What are you doing?” I asked, sniffing.

“I’m supposed to sit with you,” she said, sounding bored.

“Sit with me? Why?”

“I just am. Go take a shower, will you? You’re a mess.”

I sniffed again and ambled to the shower, too baffled to argue. Claire never missed an opportunity to make me feel like an idiot, but surely she could understand my tears. I hurried through my nightly routine, anxious that every noise outside the bathroom was Jared returning home.

When I finished, Claire was downstairs. I slipped on one of Jared’s t-shirts. It was a poor substitute, but it would have to do until he came home. With impeccable timing, she returned as I slipped under the covers.

She looked away from me, suddenly uncomfortable. “That’s Jared’s favorite shirt.”