The Uber peeled away from the curb with another squeal and a screech as the driver rushed off in search of his next passenger. Adele watched it leave and then turned, marching beneath the tastefully placed palm trees that the landlord had planted the previous year. She peered up at the orange glow in the second window facing east.
Angus was still waiting up for her. It was only nine p.m., but Angus was a coder for a couple of start-ups in the city and he often kept strange hours. San Francisco: the hub of the gold rush of tech—or silicon rush as some were calling it.
Adele had never expected to be wealthy, but with the equity pay-offs Angus had received from his last company, things were about to change. And, judging by the words after his last phone call, Adele felt they might be changing very soon.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he’d said. “It’s important.”
And then her friend Jennifer, an old college roommate, had spotted Angus outside Preeve & Co. on Post Street. If anyone knew the jewelers in this city, it was Jennifer.
Adele approached the apartment and pressed the buzzer. Would he pop the question tonight? Of course, she’d say yes. As much as she loved travel—exploration and adventure were in her blood—she’d always wanted to find someone to travel with. Angus was perfect. He was kind, funny, rich, handsome. He checked every box Adele could think of. She had a rule about dating men at the Bureau—it had never worked out well in the past.
No, dating a civilian was much more her style.
As Adele took the elevator to the second floor, she couldn’t control the smile spreading across her face. This time, it wasn’t the lopsided, wry look of resigned amusement she’d had on the plane while trying to fall asleep. Rather, she could feel her cheeks stretching from the effort of trying to control her grin.
It was good to be back home. She passed apartments twenty-three and twenty-five on the way to hers. For a moment, her smiled faltered. She glanced back at the golden numbers etched into the metal doors of the residences. Her gaze flicked from one digit to the next, her brow furrowing over her weary eyes.
She shook her head, dislodging her troubled thoughts once more, and turned her back firmly, facing apartment twenty-seven. Home.
Lightly, she knocked on the door and waited. She had her own key, but she was too tired to fish it out of her suitcase.
Would he pop the question in the doorway? Would he give her some time to settle?
She half reached for her phone, wondering if she should call the Sergeant before he went to bed. Her father would stay up long enough to catch the rerun of 8 out of 10 Cats, his favorite British game show, so there was still time to call him and tell him the good news.
Then again, perhaps she was getting a bit ahead of herself.
Just because Angus was spotted outside a jewelry store, didn’t mean that he’d already purchased the ring. Perhaps he was still looking.
Adele tried to control her excitement, calming herself with a small breathing exercise.
Then the door swung open.
Angus stared out at her, blinking owlishly from behind his thin-framed glasses. He had a thick jaw, like a football player, but the curling hair of a cupid ornament. Angus was taller than her by a few inches, which was impressive given Adele’s own height of five foot ten.
She stepped over the threshold, nearly tripping on something in the door, but then flung out her arms, wrapping Angus in an embrace. She leaned in, kissing him gently, closing her eyes for a moment and inhaling the familiar odor of citrus and herbal musk.
He pulled back, ever so slightly. Adele frowned, stiffening. She opened her eyes, peering up at Angus.
“Er, hey, Addie,” he said, calling her by the nickname he’d used when they’d first started dating. “Welcome back.” He scratched nervously at his chin, and Adele realized he had something strapped over his shoulder.
A duffel bag.
She took a hesitant, awkward step back, and again nearly tripped over the item in the door. She glanced down. A suitcase—not hers. Her suitcase and briefcase were still in the hall where she’d left them.
She glanced from the suitcase to Angus’s duffel bag, then back at her boyfriend.
“Hello,” she said, hesitantly. “Is everything all right?”
Now that she looked, she realized Angus’s glasses had distracted her from his eyes, which were rimmed red. He’d been crying.
“Angus, are you all right?”
She reached out for him again, but this time he ducked the gesture. Her arms fell like lead to her sides and she stared, all sense of euphoria that had been swirling in her chest in the elevator deflating from her like air from a balloon.
“I’m sorry, Addie,” he said, quietly. “I wanted to wait—to tell you in person.”
“Tell—tell me what exactly?”
Angus’s voice quavered as he looked her in the eyes. “Christ, I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” he said. “I really, really do.”
Adele could feel her own tears coming on, but she suppressed them. She’d always been good at managing her emotions. She completed another small breathing exercise; small habits, compounded over time. She looked Angus in the eye and held his gaze.
He looked away, rubbing his hands across the strap to his duffel bag in short, nervous gestures.
“It’s everything,” he said, quietly. “I won’t bother you. The place is yours. I’ll pay my side of the lease for the next year. That should give you time.”
“Time for what?”
“To find a new place, if you need. Or another roommate.” He half-choked on this last word and coughed, clearing his throat.
“I don’t understand… I thought… I thought…” Again, she suppressed the wave of emotions swelling in her. The way a sergeant’s daughter knew how. The way a trained agent knew how. She scanned him up and down and spotted the glinting silver Rolex displayed on his wrist.
Jennifer had been right. He had visited a jewelry store. The watch had been something he’d wanted for a while now.
“God, Addie, come on. Don’t make this tough. You knew this was coming. You had to have known this was coming…”
She simply stared at him, his words passing over her like a gusting breeze. She shook her head against the sound, trying to make sense of it. But while she could hear him, it sounded like his voice was echoing up from a deep well.
“I didn’t see it,” she said, simply.
“Typical,” Angus said with a sigh. He shook his head and pointed toward the kitchen table. “My key is there. All the bills are paid and the stubs are beneath the coffee tray. You’ll need to water and feed Gregory, but I stocked up enough for the month.”
Adele hadn’t thought about the turtle they’d gotten together. She hadn’t had much time to take care of the thing. At least Angus had.
“What do you mean?” she said.
“About Gregory? I figured you might want him. I’ll take him if you don’t, but I didn’t want to steal him if you cared or—”
“You can have the damn turtle. I mean why did you say ‘typical.’ What’s typical?”
Angus sighed again. “We really don’t have to do this. I—I don’t know what else to say.”
“Something. You haven’t said anything. I come home from three weeks on a work trip to find my boyfriend of two years packed up ready to leave. I feel like I deserve some explanation.”