Six Months Later

I wrap the coat a little tighter around my neck, the cold city wind whipping at the wool. Unmelted patches of snow line the streets, dotting the sidewalks like puffs of dirty clouds.

All around me, people bustle to their destination, seeking warmth. My books jostle in the shoulder bag I have slung over my right arm, and as I near the building, I can’t wait to get inside. The blast of hot air greets me like a warm friend, and I shake away the cold sticking to my bones.

It’s where I come most every day. To stem the anxiety, to get my brain off of being alone in a city that feels like home but also like the strangest place on earth. The gym has become my haven, something I never thought I’d say. But running the miles, lifting the heavy objects … it seems to calm my panic attacks in a way that I’ve never been able to conquer them before.

With the extra studying and course load of my first semester of freshman year, I’ve tried to keep myself as even keel as possible. Coming out of the fall with straight As and a plan on what I wanted to do—oceanography and marine geology—I felt grounded and on track.

But I still felt lonely. I’d made friends, some nice girls on my floor helped to pull me out of my funk and show me some great places around Philadelphia. Bennett and Mom made a monthly trip out, which I told them was unnecessary, but they insisted that it was good for international relations.

And I missed Asher. A lot. I hadn’t found, or tried even, to branch out and date since coming to UPenn. There were a couple of guys I’d encountered who seemed like they would have liked to ask, but I shut it down before they were even able to. We texted now and then, talked on the phone when either of us got a free half an hour with the time difference and all of our activities. Which was close to never. All in all, I hadn’t heard much from him.

I think we both realized how hard it was, keeping in touch but wondering if the other was seeing someone. Wondering what was happening when either of us wasn’t there. We were leading separate lives, and though I missed him like a gaping hole in my heart, I couldn’t bring myself to emotionally hurt anymore. And that’s what would happen if we talked every day. Because just talking wouldn’t be enough.

“Hey, Nora.” One of the girls at the front desk waves to me as I walk in.

The campus might be big, but I’m here at the same time everyday, so the staff has come to know me. “Hey, Beth. Cold out there today.”

She nods. “Frigid. But hopefully next month brings us some better weather.”

I hold up my crossed fingers at her and head downstairs to the locker room. Throwing my book bag, jacket and hat in the locker, I tie my hair up in a ponytail and make my way to the section of the fitness center that houses all of the treadmills and elliptical machines. Popping my headphones into my ears, I hit play on my selection of gym-approved music and get to work.

My legs pound the tread, adrenaline warming my muscles up. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, I watch my reflection sprint as the cold wind blows up drifts of snow from the sidewalk. Sweat drips down my back, and my music bumps to the beat in my head. Slowly, I feel the tension drain from my body, nothing left but the focus on breathing and making it through the next mile.

When I finally finish, four miles in thirty-five minutes, I’m tired and sated. Typically, I’d do twenty or thirty minutes of weight work, but for some reason I don’t want to. Deciding to listen to my body, I walk the stairs down to the locker room.

Only to run smack dab into a tall body when I round the corner.

“Oof, I’m sorry.” A familiar British accent hits my ears, and my entire body relaxes and goes stiff at the same time.

Pulling back, I blink so hard that I feel like my eyeballs might fall out. “What in the world are you doing here? Is this real?”

I reach out, touching the body I’ve touched so many times, but not in a very long time.

A chuckle rings out as I brush my hand down his T-shirt covered abs. “If this was a dream, would you be able to touch me?”

“I don’t know, I’m not sure how that all works. Asher! What are you doing here?” I feel close to tears.

He takes my hand and pulls me around the corner, where we can have a little more privacy from the prying eyes that have begun to watch us. I feel delirious, out of my body. Things like this don’t happen to me. But I guess … I am my mother’s daughter and she was whisked off of her feet by a prince so maybe they do.

“Well, I’m getting in my first workout with the rowing team.” His green eyes take multiple sweeps of my body, seeming to inventory if everything is still the same.

I hit his shoulder. “Wiseass, not here, in this fitness center … what are you doing here, in Pennsylvania?!”

I’m still in such shock that I can’t keep my voice down. I want to both talk to him and tackle him at the same time.

His brow arches, and he gives a cheeky grin. “Oh, you mean that. So … I went to Oxford first term, as you know, and when it was time to go back, I just couldn’t. I’m not cut out for the prestige and pompous attitudes anymore. Every person there measured me up to the Frederick name, and I got tired of it. I needed a change, a new tradition. And I miss you, bloody miss you like crazy. So I put in my transfer papers and decided to take my first prolonged trip to the States.”

My system is freaking out, every inch of excitement and built-up feeling of needing him bursting out at once. I don’t hesitate anymore, but jump into his arms, Asher’s strong muscles catching me up as I crush my mouth to his.

Tidal waves of this feeling, the sense of coming home, crash into me. With each meeting of our lips, the rhythm of our tongues moving together, overwhelming relief floods me.

“I’ve missed you so much.” I press my head into his shoulder, breathing him in.

He strokes my ponytail. “I couldn’t bear to be away for one more bloody minute. Where you are, I need to be.”

I raise my head, my body sliding down his as he lowers me to the ground. Our eyes connect and I’m mesmerized.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before I left, but I felt it.”

Asher looks up to the ceiling, letting out a breath. “You don’t know what it means to hear you say that.”

His hands cup my cheeks, rubbing my skin and looking straight into my eyes. When our lips connect again, it’s as if we both haven’t taken a breath in quiet some time.

It’s not a fairy tale, so far from it with my sweaty gym clothes and our franticness to be alone in a building with hundreds of students. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

When Asher had said that I’d taught him there were more important things than power and money, I knew he’d taught me too. Before I met him, I didn’t have a clue what love was. Not passionate, all-consuming, companionable, can’t-live-without-it love. He’d taught me many things about myself, but how to truly love, through flaw and fear, was the most important lesson of all that we’d learned together.

And as we walked hand and hand into the brisk winter night, I looked at the place that used to be my home. The one that just hours ago, felt so strange and lonely. London had felt like that too.

But with Asher by my side, that emptiness no longer existed. Being invisible, floating through life, hadn’t made me happy … and neither had money or status. He was the thing that made it all worth it. And now, we had a completely fresh start to do just that.

Be happy.