When they had gotten back to Claire’s house, Grayson hadn’t been sure how to proceed. He’d opened the car door for her and walked her to the door.

She’d meant to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned and caught the kiss on his lips. Their lips barely brushed against each other, but it was enough to leave him wanting more.

Then he waited while she went inside. After he heard the door lock click, he turned and went back down the sidewalk to his car.

He sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel and watched her door. She’d been quiet since they’d talked about his moving.

She’d brought it up. Something he hadn’t been going to. He was going to focus on the moment.

He’d enjoyed spending the day with her. It had been easy to forget about their real world problems and just be together.

But now he was at a loss as to how to proceed.

Should he give her some space? Or should he go up and knock on her door?

It was gut-wrenching to think that they had less than two months to spend together before he went away for a year. And here they were spending it apart.

Shoring up his resolve, he got out of the car and started up the sidewalk. A dog barked in the neighbor’s yard and he jumped. Stopped.

Claire’s downstair’s light went off. He watched until the light upstairs come on. He couldn’t see inside because she had closed the curtains, but the upstairs light was muted compared to the bright light downstairs.

He couldn’t knock on the door now. It would be in poor taste to do so when she was getting ready for bed.

He sighed and turned around.

He would call her tomorrow.

The next morning, he sent her a text message. It was a simple good morning with a smiley face.

No response.

He dragged himself to his coffeepot and poured his second cup.

He had PowerPoint presentations to prepare.

He went back to his desk and sat down.

Maybe she was still asleep.

Danielle would be at orientation all day, so maybe Claire had turned her phone off.

He opened the textbook and began a new file on personality disorders.

Maybe she went out to work in her yard. Did Claire work in her yard?

Or did she hire her yard work done?

There were so many things he didn’t know about her.

He googled images for borderline disorder. Copied a couple into the file.

Maybe she went for a jog.

Did she jog?

He checked his phone again. It showed her message was delivered.

He turned his phone over and went back to work. He managed to get through two personality disorders before he checked his phone again.

By the time he got through all ten, he’d talked himself into calling her. It was almost noon. Maybe she wanted to have lunch.

He dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail.

He hung up.

Today was not going to be a good day.

If she was avoiding him, he needed to let her be.

Even with the possibility that something had happened to her, he couldn’t very well just show up at her house. He’d promised he wouldn’t do that. He could see already that was a promise he was going to have to break.

Too antsy to sit still, he gathered up his dirty clothes and turned on the washing machine. Then he changed his sheets.

And took out the garbage.

It had been all of twenty minutes.

Today was definitely not a good day.

He went to the kitchen to make a sandwich, but too late, realized he had nothing edible. Nothing but stale bread.

He pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, picked up his keys and drove to the supermarket.

It didn’t take long to fill up his cart. He made sure he had plenty of food. Just in case someone stopped by.

After he checked out and loaded his car, he decided maybe he should drive by her house just make sure she was okay. He wouldn’t stop. He’d respect her privacy.

He pulled up to the curb on the street in view of her house, but he had no way to tell if she was home or not. As always, her garage door was closed. Since it was daylight, he had no way of knowing if her lights were on.

Feeling a bit like a stalker, he drove away.

He drove home, put his groceries away, and decided he needed to clear his head.

He left his phone charging on his nightstand and, grabbing his keys, went out the door. The apartment complex was adjacent to a little woodsy park.

He walked among the trees a bit before finding a bench and sitting. No one else was out and about this afternoon. He supposed it was too warm for them, but after living in Texas, he enjoyed the weather.

Grayson needed to give Claire some space. She’d made that apparent. In his experience, a woman would ignore him for only one of two reasons. Either she wasn’t into him or she hadn’t decided yet. And really, he’d never experienced that second option, so he was tacking it onto his list to give Claire the benefit of the doubt.

He took a deep breath. He needed to be cool.

The ink was barely dry on her divorce papers. She’d been married and divorced. She’d had a child. And that child had been troubled recently. Those things would shift a person’s perspective on life.

He’d been in the Air Force. He’d experienced traumatic experiences including watching people die. A lot of people. Good people. Men fighting for their country.

They weren’t the same people as they had been in high school.

Besides, Claire ran in different social circles. She’d been married to a successful pilot and she’d established herself as a successful entrepreneur of not only an art gallery, but also a charity foundation.

He was a social worker teaching college kids.

Claire was a woman who made decisions with her head, not her heart. Grayson wasn’t a logical choice for her. The hormones that had connected them in high school may no long be there or even more likely weren’t strong enough for them as adults.

Especially since he was going away. Again.

Either way, he had to resign himself that she may not be invested in him this time around.

Some people couldn’t, for whatever reason, reengage in a previous romance.

His resolve strengthened with a determination to let her contact him, he walked home.

He took his phone off the nightstand.

There was a message from Claire.

His heart skipped a beat.

I had to go out of town for a few days. I’ll let you know when I get home.

He sent back a quick response. Is everything okay?

She responded immediately. Yes. Don’t worry.

Don’t worry. What was that supposed to mean?

He had about a thousand questions. Where was she? Was she alone? What was she doing? Why hadn’t she mentioned that was planning to be out of town?

Remembering his resolve to play it cool, he stuck his phone in his back pocket. He went to his little home office desk and opened his computer. He heart sank when he saw that he had twenty-three emails from students.

He sat his phone on the desk and sat down to get to work. Before opening the first email, he sent a simple text to Claire. Okay.

Whatever it was she had to do, he had to leave her to it.

He had a presentation to prepare and emails to answer.

Claire took a taxi to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She’d gotten caught in the early morning traffic of Manhattan. She didn’t mind.

New York had such a different feel from L.A. New York had so much energy in such a small space.

She loved it.

She’d sometimes thought about renting a small apartment here, but the hotel was the more logical choice and had all the comforts without the headaches.

She paid the driver and stepped out in front of the museum. There was something about a museum that she found inexplicably heady.

Today was no different. It had been almost three years since she’d made the trip over to New York. She’d been trying to find the time to come back for quite some time.

After talking with Grayson and getting tangled up in her thoughts, she knew it was the perfect time for her to get away.

Danielle was stable and busy with school and a new boyfriend. The divorce was behind her. She could take a few days and immerse herself into art.

She had no meetings set up and no one in the art community knew she was here. She was dressed as a tourist and planned to spend the day merely meandering through the museum, going wherever her eyes led her.

After wandering for a couple of hours, she stopped and had lunch in the little café, then wandered some more. Before she even realized it, several more hours had passed and she needed to head back to the hotel.

Her mind was racing with ideas for her next show, so she barely noticed the traffic. She made a few notes on her phone.

She went back to her room and ordered a salad. Like L.A., there were plenty of vegan choices in New York.

While she waited for her dinner to arrive, she went to the balcony and stepped outside. The sun had set and Times Square was lit up in all its glory. She was high enough that the sounds were slightly muted, but still distinctive.

This was something she would love to share with Grayson. The thought came out of nowhere and caught her off guard.

A sudden wave of loneliness swept over her. She’d been so engrossed in the museum all day, that she hadn’t thought about him. At least not consciously.

But now that she was here, at the end the day, she missed him.

Room service brought her salad and panini along with a complimentary bottle of champagne. She almost refused the champagne, but instead set it next her on the little table while she ate. “Why not?” she said aloud. If Grayson was there, they probably would have gone out to dinner. But even if they’d decided to stay in, it would have been so much better to have him here.

She opened the champagne and poured the bubbly liquid into a glass watching the play of bubbles.

She checked her phone. Pulled up the text messages from Grayson. Other than to say okay, he hadn’t texted since she’d told him not to worry.

Maybe jetting off to New York like that without telling him hadn’t been the best idea. She’d just needed to get away. To think.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. It was Martie.

“Hello?”

“Sorry to bother you,” Martie gushed. “But two new paintings just came in from a new artist.”

“Are they any good?” she asked.

“They’re stunning.”

“Wow. Really? What’s the artist’s name?”

“Paul Bache.”

“Thanks for telling me,” she said.

“I just couldn’t wait to tell you.”

After they hung up the phone, Claire sipped the bubbly champagne.

Martie usually took new artists in stride. Maybe she was becoming more invested in the art world.

She picked up her phone and sent a quick text – Send a picture.

She took her wine glass and her phone and went to sit on the balcony.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed again. She opened the text and a picture of Grayson popped up. He was on a balcony also, only it was dark behind him. Maybe a wooded area? She zoomed in, but couldn’t tell. He had a sexy little sideways smile on his face.

Why would Martie send a picture of Grayson? Were they together?

She felt sick to her stomach. Had he gone to the studio looking for her and ended up going out with Martie?

Why had Martie sent her that picture instead of the painting?

Martie had seen him come into the studio to see her. Hadn’t she?

She paced back inside and, scrolling through her messages, tried to make sense of the situation.

She stopped pacing. Oh. No! She had accidentally sent the picture request to Grayson.

She set the glass of champagne on the nightstand and climbed into the middle of the bed. This is why she never drank more than a sip or two. The last time she’d had a couple of drinks, Danielle had been… created.

She ran her hands over her face. Glanced at the bottle of champagne. She’d barely touched it.

She went to Martie’s text thread and asked for a picture of the painting.

Martie said she’d send it tomorrow. She’d already left for the day.

Claire sighed. What to do about Grayson.

He sent another text. Do I get a picture of you?

She gasped. Uh oh. She opened her camera app and held the camera out for a selfie. Should she smile or look serious? She tried a couple of poses and examined the pictures. Taking a deep breath, she sent him a picture.

He wrote back. Where are you?

New York

There was silence on the other end of the phone

Are you serious? He wrote back. Why?

Why indeed? I needed to go to some museums.

She laid back on the bed and waited.

I see. You didn’t want to tell me?

No. She sent back.

Do you want me to come join you?

Claire giggled. Right. You have to work tomorrow.

So? He wrote. So do you.

Guess I won’t be there.

Can I call?

She stared at the phone. No. She didn’t need to talk to him right now.

I can’t talk right now.

Are you alone?

She rolled onto her stomach. Yes.

Have you been drinking?

How could he possibly know that? Why do you ask?

You’re being… funny.

I’m always funny.

Ha. Can I call? He asked again.

She didn’t answer this time. She left her phone on the bed and went to the refrigerator for a bottle of water.

The phone rang while she was drinking water.

She stretched across the bed and picked up the phone. “Hello.”

“Well hi.”

“Hi,” he said. “So you’re really in New York?”

“Sure.”

“And you didn’t want to tell me.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Claire. You can tell me anything.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Right?”

“I was afraid.”

His voice was serious. “I will never. Ever. Do anything to hurt you.”

Her giddiness faded into tears. “It might be a little late,” she said, her voice hoarse with unshed sobs.

“That was an accident. We were kids and didn’t have any control over it. We aren’t kids now. We’re in control.”

She inhaled deeply. Regained control of her emotions. “You’re right,” she said, her voice steady now.

“Claire, please don’t run away from me again.”

“I wasn’t running away,” she said, though she knew that was exactly what she had done.

“I want to be part of your life.”

“You are part of my life.”

“I want to be the part where you at least let me know when you’re going to New York. Even if you don’t invite to go with you. I understand that you sometimes need time alone.”

She took a deep ragged breath. Did she dare let herself care about him again? Did she let him care about her? “Okay,” she said.

He laughed. “Okay? What?”

“Okay. I’ll tell you next time.”

“Fair enough.”

“Grayson? Are you sure you want to go down this route again?”

“I’m one hundred percent sure.”

“Why?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“I’ll tell you when you get back.”

“All right,” Claire said.

“Please be careful over there.”

“I will,” she said.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said and they hung up the line.

Claire sat on the hotel bed, holding her phone.

It had been such a long time since someone actually cared where she was and what she was doing. Sure, her daughter kept up with her, but that was different. Danielle didn’t necessarily want to spend time with Claire, even though she wanted Claire to be there for her.

And Noah. Well, Noah had a tendency to do his own thing. She couldn’t blame him, either, since that had been their agreement going in.

And despite the coldness of their marriage, Claire had never, not once, cheated. Although after their legal separation went into effect, they had both agreed that it was okay to date others, Claire hadn’t been interested. She’d thrown herself into her work even more. And that was the time Danielle had needed her parents there for her. Claire had to give Noah points for dropping everything and being there every day for Danielle.

Claire found herself in an interesting spot. She had only been with two men in her life. She was divorced from one and the other wanted to resume their relationship after twenty years. Did people even do that?

It went against her keep moving forward policy.

Or did it?

Her thoughts were winding around themselves and she was getting tangled up in her own ideas.

She put on her pajamas and crawled under the blankets. She would have to think about this tomorrow.

Tomorrow was another day.

Grayson, too, got ready for bed, even though it was still early.

He looked at the picture she’d sent him and laughed to himself. She obviously had no idea there was an open bottle of champagne behind her. As far as he knew, Claire didn’t drink alcohol. She’d played it cool by having a sip or two, but she never drank more. She was much too in control of herself.

The fact that he’d caught her drinking was an anomaly. Finding her in New York hadn’t even occurred to him.

He’d been shocked when she asked him to send a picture.

He could only explain it by her use of alcohol.

He must have really gotten under her skin for her to run all the way across the country from him.

She didn’t say anything about work or meetings. And she probably would have told him if she’d had a planned trip.

Now that he knew where she was and that she was safe, his resolve to let her have time to sort things out was even stronger. At least she was far away from the likes of that Maine D’Court artist.

Tomorrow was exam day. He had to get up early to make copies. He would have to think about setting up online testing next year. There was no reason not to update his classes. Giving tests online would be much more efficient.

Since everything was ready until tomorrow, he went online and bought three tickets to Saturday’s Dodger’s game. It was time to add a little excitement to their lives.