But, he then concluded, I'm getting way ahead of myself. She may take one look at me and decide she was right to dump me the first time.
Nice building, though. Housing for grown‑ups, not like the one‑bedroom starter setup I've been reduced to.
He knocked—he always hated the idea of ringing a bell on an apartment door—and a second later, it opened.
Alexa Hampton and Stone Aimes just stood awkwardly for a moment and stared, taking each other in. Finally...
"You look... great." They both said it simultaneously, and that served to make the moment even more awkward.
"Well," he said finally, into the silence, "you do." And he meant it. There was, however, a lot of strain on her face, in her eyes. The mark the years had left seemed more psychic than physical.
"You don't look so bad yourself."
"God, it seems like a lifetime ago when we went to our separate corners," he said after another long, contemplative pause. Then he stepped in and she closed the door. He didn't try to peck her cheek, for which she looked relieved. ”Tell me how you're doing, really."
"You really want to know? Okay, this afternoon I had a heavy‑duty heart checkup. Nobody wants to put odds on this thing, but my condition is getting worse." She led him through to the living room.
"Then we should talk," he said looking around. "I love your loft, by the way. You make me envy you. You should see the makeshift quarters I live in. I'm sort of waiting for my ship to come in."