Page 71 of Taking A Chance
“Cora?” I hear, as his familiar voice cuts through the noise of the room around me.
It’s too late. I’m caught. I peek over Claire’s right shoulder, and there he is.Declan.His sharp black suit has never looked so good. Tonight, he’s wearing a black button-up underneath, with a black tie. All black everywhere, doing magnificent things for his dark eyes. His lips part, like he might say something, then press together again.
“Hello,” I say, through tears.
Declan’s hands are clenched at his sides, a confused and pained look in his eyes, almost as if he’s trying to stop himself from reaching for me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, moving closer through the last few people standing between us.
I stammer, “Uh, I—”
“Ryan had me bring her,” Claire says. “He called work looking for her and spoke to me instead.”
“I don’t understand,” Declan says.
“You guys need to talk in private,” Claire says. I can hear her words, but they’re not registering. My information processing center is in a deep fog.
“Come this way,” he says, leading us through the crowd to a utility closet in the back. It’s nearly as big as the front office we stood in with Ryan.
Claire stops short of going in, giving me an encouraging look as I trail behind Declan. The door shuts behind us and I can’t feel my hands. All of my appendages are numb and tingling, like everything has fallen asleep. I feel like I’m five seconds from a panic attack or heart attack or possibly a nervous breakdown.
“Ryan brought you here?” he asks, clarifying what was said outside this closet.
I nod. “I didn’t know where we were until we got here,” I say.
“So, you didn’t come looking for me?” he asks, disappointment lacing his words.
“No,” I manage to squeak out, instead of another sob.
He sighs, the hope on his face dissipating into melancholy.
“I saw your new work,” I whisper.
“Yeah?” he says. “Is this when you tell me I had no right? Is this when you demand I take them all down?”
“No, of course not,” I say. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way before.”
“This is hard for me, Cora,” he says. “I don’t have the same social skills as others.” It feels like one of the only times I’ve ever heard him call me by my name instead oflove, and I don’t know how to feel about that.
“I understand,” I say. “I should’ve let you show me, I should’ve let you explain fully.”
“Yes,” he says. “You should’ve.”
Silence falls around us in this small space, the noise from outside muffled. We’re not standing more than a couple of feet from each other, and there’s a palpable tension in the air that’s beginning to suffocate me.
“I should go,” I say. “I’ve already taken your attention away from your show too long.”
“I could give a fuck about this show, Cora,” he snaps out. “Don’t you understand by now?”
“Understand what?” I say, my voice not quite yelling but definitely louder than normal.
“I love you!” he exclaims, the tone of his voice biting and adamant. “Goddamn it, I love you.” The last few words come out softer, almost a sigh.
“No you don’t,” I say, shaking my head back and forth.
“Yes, I do,” he says, grabbing both of my arms. I’m still shaking my head softly back and forth as he tries to still me, looking into my eyes. “Why can’t you see it?”
Another moment of silence passes us before I can manage any words. “I’m scared.”