Free Falling

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Standing before Finn's apartment building, I had little recollection of how I got here from Tilly's. Or was it Matilda? It was surreal to believe that I'd met Finn's mom. My chest clenched as I recalled the time I spent with her. It was too bad that I had to keep it a secret too, but she'd done a good job for twenty-six years and I couldn't be the one to break it.

Manhattan was bustling behind me, alive in a flurry of lights as people consumed the night. Wind picked up some tendrils of my hair as I willed myself strength to do what I had to do.

I inhaled a deep breath, expelled it and marched in. I fully expected the security to spot me and realize I was out of place, but the doormen greeted me while the guards simply went about their business poker faced as I hovered past the lobby.

That was easy. Too easy. I thought I'd have to get on my knees at some point and grovel to be let in. It was like I still lived here. I stopped in front of the penthouse elevator. What was I going to say to him? Would he be mad to see me? I'd acted on my insecurities and pushed him away, and I hoped he wasn't too far out of my reach to bring him back.

Before I could hit the button for the ride, the thirtieth floor lit up and I watched it descend. My heart rate sped up, blood pulsing through me as anxiety crept up my spine. He was coming down. Panic set in. I could barely stay still on my feet, eyes darting around the lobby like I was expecting someone. I was, in actuality, but I wasn't ready.

Before the elevator made it's final descent, I darted into a corner and plastered my back to the wall, gasping like I'd sprinted a mile. When I finally mustered the courage to step out of my hiding place, I froze at the sight in front of me.

Finn appeared out of the elevator, his tall and broad shouldered figure making my breath catch in my throat. His face was eerily calm, with his hands tucked into the pocket of his pants. His attire was formal and elegant, fitting him like a glove. It felt like I hadn't seen him in a lot longer than a week. The sight of him did funny things to my head. And heart.

He shook his dirty blond hair out of his eyes and walked in the direction of the entrance. I made to go after him but fell a step back when a woman appeared from the elevator too, moving a little faster to meet up with him. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach when I registered her face. Unmistakable platinum blond hair flowed down her back. Elizabeth.

She called out to him and he halted, turning to her as she caught up with him, almost like he'd forgotten she was there. His expression was pensive for a moment as she held on to his arm, linking hers with his. She smiled up at him. He didn't smile back. Her lips moved again, but I couldn't make out what she was saying. His was pressed into a hard line, a cloudy disposition settled on his brows.

She was dressed in a lilac colored dress that clung to the contours of her body in very flattering ways. I found it hard to breathe as I fought to come to terms with the sight before me. They were no doubt going on a date, to one of the fancy restaurants he'd probably taken me to before.

I clutched at the strap of my bag tightly, feeling my fingers go numb against the material. I silently hoped that he would turn around and see me, and realize that he didn't want to be with her. It gutted me everytime it dawned on me that he wasn't mine anymore. Even though I was always too stubborn to admit it, the one thing I'd left behind after I packed was the one thing that mattered most— my heart.

I thought to go after him, but I couldn't bring myself to. I didn't want to talk to him with her there. And he'd said she was nothing more to him, but there they were— the spitting image of a perfect couple. I never did fit into his world, did I?