“I will have all these brought up with the rest,” he tells me, and I nod at him, knowing he’ll be up in about twenty minutes.

He pushes the button for the sixteenth floor, and I watch the numbers go up one by one. My head is going around and around with everything I just saw. When the elevator opens on my floor, I walk out into the hallway and come face-to-face with my red door. Once I get into the apartment, I walk down what I call the gallery hallway. It is why I bought this apartment; the way the molding was all down the wall reminded me of France. I pass the kitchen on my right and the hallway to the bedrooms on my left as I walk into the huge living and dining room with a wall of windows that faces Central Park. Bouquets of roses scattered throughout the room are all from the same person, except one from my grandmother in Paris and another from my parents.

The phone beeps in my pocket, and I reach in and grab it.

I’m running a bit behind, but I’ll be there by seven.

I swallow, letting my purse fall to the floor beside me while I walk to one of the couches and sit down. I don’t get up when I hear a knock on the door, knowing the doorman will leave the bags in the hallway. I stare ahead as the light in the room ever so slowly fades until the glow of the moon is all that remains. My eyes focus on the stars outside, looking at one that seems to be blinking. Or maybe it isn’t, and it’s just me.

I hear the key in the door and grab my phone to see the time is 9:35. I put the phone down and hear his steps coming down the gallery. He turns on the light and spots me sitting here. I look at him, this man who I love with everything I have and would do anything for. He’s wearing the same suit I saw him wearing this afternoon except he doesn’t have a tie on.

“Hey there,” he says, smiling and coming over to me. “There she is, the birthday girl.” He squats down in front of me and leans up to kiss my lips, and I let him. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

I take in his brown eyes that look almost black, eyes I’ve stared into for over two years now. Eyes that promised me the world. “I was thinking,” I say softly, and he grabs one of my hands and brings it to his mouth.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says, and I take a mental picture of him, not that I need to. “Stuff came up.”