“What are you doing here?”

My chin was quivering with the cold, making it difficult to speak. “We had a date. Remember?”

He looked down a moment, then said, “That was before you said I was cruel and ran away.”

My words pierced me. “I came to apologize.”

For a moment he seemed unsure of what to say. “How long have you been waiting here?”

“Three hours.”

“You must be freezing.”

I nodded, my body involuntarily shuddering with the suggestion.

He put out his hand. “Come in and get warm.”

He unlocked the front door, and we stepped into the foyer. His home was warm and dark, illuminated only by a hall light and the colorful blinking strands of his Christmas tree. He led me to a small den, told me to sit on the sofa, and then left the room. I could hear him moving around in the kitchen. It seemed that I sat there for the longest time before he returned without his coat and carrying a porcelain mug. “Drink this. It’s hot cider.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking the cup from him with both hands. I sipped the hot drink while he sat down backward on the piano bench. The warm drink spread through my body. When I could speak I asked, “Do you play?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

I didn’t know what to say and I’m not sure he did either because the silence was interminable. He looked at me until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Finally I took a deep breath and said, “Dan came by to see me this afternoon. He’s still trying to get me back. He thought he could scare me away from you with this.” I set the newspaper article on the table between us.

Nicholas barely glanced at it. “And he didn’t even need it. I scared you away without it.” He took a deep breath. “And you think I owe you an explanation?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” I said.

“Then why are you here?”

The question stung, filling my eyes with tears. I bowed my head, afraid to show my eyes, afraid to look into his. “After reading the article I realized that you really did understand me. And that you might be the only one in the world who could really love me.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “I’d like to explain what happened.”

I looked up at him. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said. “I was barely sixteen years old. I was a sophomore in high school. My girlfriend had broken up with me a couple days before. You know how teenagers are, all drama and hormones. I was depressed and had pretty much taken to my bed, just listening to music all night. A friend of mine came over to cheer me up. He talked me into going to a party some seniors were having up in the canyons.