Capturing You

Chapter 36: Sacrifices

 And I mean, downpour.

I watched it for a moment outside the window, taking in the suddenness of it, how in the blink of an eye it was clear and in the next, it was drenching everything and everyone. People scurried under awnings and inside buildings, held their briefcases over their heads, and rushed into taxis to escape the rain, while I sat in an all-too-fancy and all-too-quiet restaurant watching it all happen. There I was again, on the outside looking in, the window that kept me from the rain doing the very same thing that my heavy lens did when I held it.

When the waiter came back to me, he noticed I'd hardly touched my food since he last visited. I must have been too distracted by the rain. But I apologized and paid and didn't even feel like asking for a box to take my leftovers back to the apartment, which was so totally unlike me, especially with how much meals cost in Paris. I just knew I needed to get out of here.

I reached for my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and hurried out into the rain, almost immediately doused by the weather. And yet, I loved it. I stood in the middle of the alleyway and looked up at the sky, then closed my eyes. A moment later, I pulled my camera out of my bag and cupped my hand over the lens to protect it from the rain. I spun all around me to scope out the perfect background, and once I finally settled on one—a convenience store with a row of bouquets for sale behind the windows—I flashed a smile. The biggest smile I'd smiled in a long time, the kind where your cheeks hurt and your eyes are hardly open and your chin is jutted out. It was a photo I would show to Joe once I saw him, and I swore to myself that it would be sooner than later as I hailed a taxi.

And maybe the next time I took a selfie in Paris, Joe would be right beside me.

-

Once I got back to my apartment, it was the usual routine of struggling with the door until I eventually burst through and opened it. Though I wouldn't typically slip and fall like I did tonight; I blamed that on how my shoes were slick from the rain. I set my stuff down on the kitchen counter, the surface nearest to me, then flicked the light switch on. I saw Joe curled up on my couch, asleep.

"Oh, hey Joe." I walked past him to head to my bedroom, fully intending on changing out of my sopping wet clothes and into something dry. Maybe I would hop in the shower. I wasn't sure yet.

Wait. I jolted back out of my bedroom, hand gripping the doorframe.

"Joe?!" My voice was a mix of fear and surprise. That better had been Joe and not some intruder who thought crashing on my couch was a good idea.

Lo and behold, it was the man himself, sitting up now and rubbing his eyes, even stretching, before he stood up with a grin. "Hey, Swamp Girl."

I scoffed. That was all he had to say?! I must have looked like a trout with my jaw slacked and barely able to produce a stammer. "What are you... why are you... how are you...?"

He closed the distance between us and placed a hand on the small of my back, coaxing me from the bedroom into the living room. Under the single, dreary kitchen lamp light, he was still beautiful—and seeing him here brought me to an uncontrollable sob. I punched his shoulder, not hard, but as if he had just finished playing a much unappreciated prank on me. "Joe, I'm all wet—" Then, he pulled me close, forcing me to cry into his chest, and at that point I really couldn't help it. I could already imagine the damp spots on his light gray t-shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said, holding me tight. I felt his hand on the top of my soaked head of hair. "I should've said something. I know."

"I thought you hated me," I mumbled, still concealed.

"Hate you?" This, he pulled me away for. He kissed the top of my head and held my face in his hands. "I could never hate you, Avery. I love you. So much."