Soulmates & Twin Flames

16 - Human Nature

The city lights blur outside the cab's window as we head toward Tribeca. The traffic is flowing, considering it's Saturday night. I can't say the same about my feelings, though. My heart is tied in a knot, our sloppy farewell is stuck in my throat and it's hard to breathe. I crack open the window to get some fresh air.

"Ma'm would you like me to turn off the AC?" the grumpy cab driver calls.

I sigh, then roll up the window once again. "It's fine," I say, but it's not. Tonight shouldn't have ended this way.

I squeeze my phone, bumping the back of my head against the seat. Roman's probably in his car, heading toward the airport right now. I'm dying to call him and ask the meaning behind his painful goodbye. But I don't want to be clingy.

Am I reading too much into things?

What do you do, Abby, when you're in doubt?

The answer is simple. I swipe up my screen, and dial my best friend.

Olga answers after a couple of rings.

"Abbs!" she screams over some rock music. "I was about to call the cops and file a missing person's report!"

"I know... I haven't called. Sorry. I was with Roman this entire week, but..." I sigh. "Something feels wrong."

The loud music and dull noises of a crowd slowly fade from the other side of the line. A metal door creaks open, and Olga's footsteps start clicking on a stone pavement. Cars are honking in the background.

"Are you at his place?" she asks.

"Nope. Heading home."

"No, you're not. You are coming to East Village. Purple Elephant," she says. "I'm buying the drinks."

I shuffle my bangs, gazing out the window. Going home would only push me into a dark headspace. "Yeah, okay. See you there."

The cab leaves me on the corner of my favorite Friday spot, Purple Elephant. It's a speakeasy with rock music, reasonably priced drinks, and a decent amount of craziness. I give the bouncer July's password, comet, and step in.

The place is packed tonight. Colorful, industrial lightbulbs dangle down the high, black ceiling, creating a haze in the tunnel-like space. Thank God, Olga meets me by the door, because there's no way I could find her petite figure in the crowd. We try to squeeze our way to the bar, but after several battles, we give up and hang by the door.

Olga offers me a sip from her Guinness.

I shake my head.

She gives me a concerned furrow and crosses her arms. "Tell me all about it," she says.

I want to. I really do. But would she call me crazy again if I told her how I feel about Roman only after a few dates?

Probably.

But I still need to hear Olga's unfiltered opinion to keep my feet on the ground. So, I take a deep breath, brace myself, and part my lips... But nothing comes out. Because a pair of green eyes are shining like headlights in the back of the room, looking our way.

Nate raises his cocktail glass and slips away from the girls under his arms.

I squint and blink a couple of times. Yep, that's him! Nate Fucking Rhode, with his tousled hair and crooked smile. He is swiftly cutting through the crowd and making his way to us.

When Olga pokes my arm, I lean into her ear. "The guy who ended the drought... He is Roman's younger brother."

"No way..."