The Hourglass

Twenty-Five

Adam picks me up first thing the next morning. It feels exhilarating to throw caution to the wind and embrace life. I'm nearly gitty with anticipation as I climb into his car. 

"Good morning, beautiful." He greets me. He leans over and pecks my lips. I smile, living in that simple moment, which brings me the greatest pleasure. 

"Good morning," I tell him as I take in his intoxicating appearance. He's in his business clothes again, and I can't help but notice how well he cleans up. Though, he looks marvelous both in his business attire and his sweats. I don't think Adam could look bad if he tried. 

"I won't have to be at the office for too long. Just enough to appease my Dad," he begins. "Then we can go to the art gallery and spend as much time as you want looking at everything." 

"Okay," I say, but my thoughts are on a different matter. "Hey, Adam?" I begin.

"Hmm?" He questions as he drives. 

"What happens when your dad goes back to New York?" I ask. "Will you still have time to see me?" I felt so insecure asking this, but the question was nagging at me all night. Adam had said the company startup was going well, and his Dad wasn't going to be there to oversee things forever. That was going to be Adam's job. 

He looks at me as if I have three heads. "I will always make time to see you," He assures me. I try to relax, but I'm not sure if I can believe that. Not because I think Adam is lying to me, but because I wonder how much freedom his Dad will really allow him to have. I wonder how much responsibility Adam will really have. I wonder how much control his Dad will still have over him and if it will be more than Adam anticipates.

Adam grabs my hand and squeezes it, trying to comfort me. "You have nothing to fear. I'm entirely captivated by you. You won't be able to lose my interest so easily." He kisses my hand, then and I feel myself thaw a bit. 

We listen to music on our way to Atlanta, sharing our favorite songs and artists. Something about Adam's shared passion for the music I love makes me feel as if he knows my soul, as if he understands a part of me that no one else does. There have been times when I've tried to share a song, a book, or a movie with others. I wanted to show them how much it reverberated me to the core, to show them just a glimpse of what goes on inside my head and heart, and just for them to act as if they couldn't care less. 

As much as I love Chelsea, there's a side to me that she doesn't get or comprehend in the slightest. I was delusional, thinking Brandon or Jeremy would understand that side of me, my "troubled poetic side," as Brandon called it. I really thought that at least Chelsea, my best friend, my sister, would try to appreciate where I come from. I do it for her all of the time. But she doesn't, and I'm always left feeling alone, like a ghost barely visible in this plane. With Adam, I'm finally seen. 

I'm tempted to stay in the car and wait for him as we pull into the parking lot. "What's wrong?" he asks me. 

"Won't I get you in trouble or something?" I ask. 

"I don't think my Dad cares about the women in my life," he comments. 

"Not even when you bring them to your work? Won't he think I'm like a distraction or something?" I worry aloud. 

"It'll be fine, come on," he says as he gets out of the car. 

I follow him, reluctant but happy to be near him and wanted. I bring my laptop with me just in case he is longer than he anticipates. 

Adam leaves me in his office, kissing me briefly before he goes. I move to the window, enjoying the view once again as I patiently await his return. I'm only alone for a few moments before I heard the door open. I turn around, confused, ready to ask why he's back so soon when I see it isn't Adam standing in the doorway at all.