I stood up and looked at my bare feet. “Shit. I only have my heels from the party.”

“I’ll loan you some shoes.”

“We don’t have the same size feet.” Liesl was much taller than me, with a larger frame. If it weren’t for the drawstring, I’d be drowning in her shorts.

She kicked off the flip-flops she was wearing. “You can wear these. They’re like one-size-fits-many.”

“Fine.” I slid my feet into them. They’d do. “Okay. I’m off. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck. You got this.” She pulled me in for a hug. “You’re sure he won’t be there?”

“Positive.” I’d called Norma for that. She’d checked with Hudson’s secretary and reported back that he had a meeting in his office all afternoon. And he’d told Liesl he wasn’t staying at the penthouse. If I believed him, which I didn’t necessarily, then he wouldn’t be there no matter what. It was possible that he hadn’t even been back there after L.A. I guess I’d find out soon enough.

Since it was still early in the day, I took my time getting to the penthouse. I took the subway instead of a cab and didn’t rush to meet the connecting train. But as much as I dillydallied, I eventually arrived at my destination.

The memories started before I made it inside the building. I stood outside staring at the letters engraved on the stone above the door. The Bowery. In many ways it felt like the first time I’d been there, when I was nervous and anxious and unaware of what waited for me inside. Then though, my stomach fluttered with butterflies. Today it was filled with rolling stones. Though both had my tummy in motion, there was a definite difference in gravity. One feeling lifted me up. The other pulled me down, anchored me to my dismal reality.

With a final breath of fresh air, I headed in.

On the elevator ride up, I decided I’d be no-nonsense about my task. As soon as the door opened inside the penthouse, I headed straight to my closet. I put on some underwear and changed into a dress and shoes suitable for work. Then I packed a duffel bag with a few items to get me through the next week. I was done and ready to go in less than fifteen minutes.

But a sudden wave of nostalgia kept me from leaving without doing a final look around. I told myself it was the smart thing to do—in case I found something that I wanted to take with me.

Yeah, that was it.

The place was almost exactly the way I’d left it, except the cleaning lady had been through. The trashcans and dishwasher had been emptied. The only sign of disarray was the books I’d left out in the library. All clean and immaculate like that, the apartment felt empty, abandoned. Lonely. The warmth that had once filled it was gone. It seemed staged. Like a model home that no one really lived in. Like nothing special or beautiful had ever happened there.

It could be anyone’s home. Nothing reflected us. How had I never noticed this before?

It was fitting, I supposed, to feel so empty.

Except it deepened my sorrow. I’d been prepared to walk in and be met with the ghosts of our past. That they weren’t there rocked me.

Suddenly, I felt desperate to find a sign of us somewhere—anywhere. I set down my bag and ran back to our bedroom. I threw myself onto the made bed and buried my face in a pillow. It smelled clean. The bedding had been changed since we’d last slept there together. In Hudson’s closet, I found only rows of clean clothes and an empty hamper. Finally, in the bathroom, I found a bottle of his body wash. I opened it and breathed in the scent.

My knees buckled. God, it was him and not him all at once. The smell permeated into my skin, reawakening every memory of him, rekindling feelings that I wanted to forget.

In that moment, though, I didn’t want to forget. I wanted to embrace everything I had left of him. And this scent wasn’t enough. It was missing the most important part. I wanted more, all of it. And I couldn’t find it here.

I recognized the emotion immediately—the desperate urge. I could make it go away if I tried hard enough, if I refocused, if I concentrated on my substitute list.

But I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to follow the urge, to let it lead me where I needed to go. For once, I wanted to give in to it instead of constantly fighting it. Wanted to fall into the comfort of the old pattern and let it swallow me.

Maybe, just today, I could let it take me away. I could go to the loft, slip in while Hudson was in his meetings, and feel him in the place that he’d been living. Look for traces of his existence. Smell him and sense him.

It wasn’t healthy, but it would only be one time. One time wouldn’t destroy me. And after that, I could move on. I’d go to my group meeting and get back on track and my new life—my life without Hudson—could really begin.

It sounded divine. Like a guilty pleasure. No worse than eating a whole tub of Ben and Jerry’s straight from the carton. Without any more thought, I decided to do it. Then I flagged down a cab and headed to the Pierce Industries building before I could change my mind.

I was grateful that Norma had told me about Hudson’s afternoon meeting. It made the chance of bumping into him not an issue. He’d be wrapped up in his business whatnot, never knowing I was right above him. It added to the appeal.

As soon as I opened the front door of the loft, I felt it. The thing I’d been missing—Hudson’s presence. It lingered in the air, not just his scent, but the warmth of him. It made the hair stand up on my arms and made my skin tingle. It was exactly what I’d longed for.

Setting my duffel by the front door, I explored further, remembering and putting to memory the place where we’d shared our first time. I trailed my hand along the back of his leather couch as I passed. Then I trailed my other hand over the papers on his desk as I went deeper into the loft. At the back, I found the private elevator. It led to one place only—down to his office. That’s how close he was. I placed my palm on the cool metal.

How close. How far away.

In the kitchen, I lingered over a half empty mug of coffee on the counter. He drank from this. His lips had touched the rim. I lifted the cup to my face, pressing it against my cheek. It was cold, but I could imagine it hot. Imagine him sipping at it gently, carefully.

I knew I was acting crazy, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop myself even if I did care.

Soon, I made it to the bedroom. The room he’d first taken me in. He’d been both amazing and overwhelming. I’d felt out of my league, and yet, I couldn’t help but try to fit into his world in the way he’d wanted me.