The next Monday morning, when I sat down at my desk at work, I began my usual routine. I turned on my computer, had a quick meeting with my boss, then settled into my desk chair and checked my e-mail. My nose wrinkled as I opened an e-mail from an unknown sender. It read, “Got your e-mail through Mika and Kendra. A new Mumford & Sons song just came out, thought you would like it – Dave.” My heart fluttered and a giddy smile crept across my face as I opened the link he had left below his message. My shoulders rose and I peered around the office as I popped my earbuds in and listened to the song. Music was one of the many topics we had discussed, and we found we had a lot of musical interest in common. Knowing he had taken just a fragment of a moment out of his day to send me a song made my heart feel incredibly full. As I listened to the song, it was fantastic, and I quickly sent back my comments. At the very end of my message, before I could hesitate and regret the decision, I added, “I miss you.” I didn’t care if it was inappropriate or not. I needed him to know that I wanted him back in my life.

For the next couple days, our communication was becoming more and more frequent. One day he had even texted me, asking me if I had watched their game against the Vancouver Canucks. We exchanged more music, and our e-mails had transitioned from one or two sentences to multiple paragraphs. I couldn’t wait to see his bright, smiling face again, to see his 1980s haircut, to marvel at his impossibly blue eyes.

Once Friday had rolled around, I was too excited and giddy to even breathe. As I sat at my desk at work, I thought about how Dave’s airplane was touching down at any moment. It had been pouring rain all morning and all afternoon, so I had wondered if his flight would be delayed. The fact that he was running right back into Miranda’s arms, the very girl who had cheated on him only a week ago, wasn’t even crossing my mind. Grey hadn’t been around again, but all week Miranda had been avoiding me like the plague, and when we did happen to cross paths, she acted like nothing had changed, and nothing was out of the ordinary. It was why I wasn’t expecting what I had arrived home to that evening.

When I emerged through the front door of my apartment, I shed off my soaking wet raincoat, my long hair damp from the rain. I saw Miranda on the couch, the back of her dark head of hair facing me. “Leslie...” She turned her head towards me, and she was in hysterics. Dark black mascara had run all the way down her face, her eyes were red and puffy, and her normally flawless hair was a messy ball of tangles. This was the first time in a long time that I said seen her look anything short of perfection. She looked...normal.

“Miranda? What’s wrong?”
She snorted a loud, mucusy sniffle, and held a tissue close to her face. She peered at me through helpless eyes, searching my face. “I...I...told Dave about Grey.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes widening. “Really? How? When?”
She rubbed her eyes with the tissue, her black mascara spreading in swirls across her blotchy skin. “He came over this morning. I told him, and he broke up with me,” she sobbed, choking on her words, heaving heavily.

My face was frozen in shock, my eyes on the verge of popping out of their sockets. My mouth hung open. I couldn’t comfort her, I couldn’t react, my body was simply frozen in time as my mind whirred at a million miles an hour. They had broken up. Miranda had told him about Grey. She was devastated. The air was completely silent, excluding the pounding rain against the window.

She was looking down at her lap, and then back up at me. The look she gave me was almost...demonic. Her sobs became under control, and she spoke in a steady voice. “That’s not even the whole story.”
I began to shake, my entire body quivering in anticipation. “What is it?”
She spoke slowly, carefully articulating every word. “He was coming over to break up with me anyways. Because he told me he’s in love with you.”

My ears deceived me. Before I could control it, I spat out a derisive laugh at the very possibility. Dave, in love with me. There was no way. But as her large, brown eyes bore through me, I felt all the colour drain from my face, and my entire body, as the words that came out of Miranda’s mouth slowly but surely began to register. Dave was in love with me. Dave. Was in love. With me. “I...” I tried to speak, but vomit almost came up instead.

“The only reason I cheated on Dave was because I already knew. I knew the whole time. We’d spend the whole day together, and then you’d walk by him in the apartment just once, and in five seconds it was like I didn’t even exist anymore. I knew you two were made for each other, but I kept trying to convince myself I could make it work. Then when Dave left, I thought I’d lost him, and Grey was giving me the attention that I wanted and needed. I don’t even know why I’m crying. I guess I’m just disappointed in myself for what I’ve done. I really thought that I could have a successful relationship, maybe I’m just not cut out for it. Am I going to be alone forever, Leslie?”

I didn’t understand what was going on. Miranda wasn’t even upset that Dave had broken up with her. She was upset that a relationship in general couldn’t work out for her. I had no idea how to answer her. Before I could answer, her iPhone buzzed, and she answered it. It gave me a moment to internalize the colossal amount of information I had just been challenged to ingest. I repeated it in my head to myself for the five-hundredth time. Dave was in love with me. I didn’t know what emotion to experience. Happiness, complete and utter elation? I was afraid to react in any way in front of Miranda, let alone at all, because I was afraid the overload of emotion would cause my heart to stop beating.

Miranda hung up the phone. “That was Grey. Do you mind if we cancel plans for tonight? He wants to meet up at a restaurant, and for some reason I feel like a real relationship could work with him.”
I nodded. “Absolutely! Go. And Miranda...I, I’m sorry.”
She forced a smile, but it slowly settled into a genuine one. “It’s okay. Really.”

As she got up and walked towards her bedroom, cringing at herself in the hall mirror, my cellphone buzzed. It was Dave. Everything inside my body intensified; my blood starting pumping, my breath became short, my skin felt like it could spontaneously combust at any moment. The text read, “Can I come over?” I texted back, my thumbs trembling. “One hour.”

Within twenty minutes, Miranda emerged from her bedroom looking flawless as usual, as if her episode had never happened. Her cat eyes were dark and black, and she gathered her things. Before she left, she kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t worry about me, okay? And good luck with Dave,” she added with a wink. Within seconds, she was out the door. The moment the front door shut, I sprinted to my room. I tore through my closet like a hurricane, trying to find something to wear for when Dave came over. The things that brought out my features were too fancy and formal, but I didn’t want to look like a slob. After much deliberation, I finally settled on a form-fitting white v-neck t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I quickly whipped out my makeup case, touching up my eyeliner, mascara, blush and concealer, and ran a brush through my tousled hair. I continued to tear across the apartment, quickly cleaning up the entire house, brushing my teeth, and spritzing on some light perfume.

Dave was going to arrive at any minute. I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to breathe deeply as my adrenaline pumped forcefully through me. The rain was getting louder and louder, and I heard thunder roll a few times. When I heard the elusive knock on the door, my insides knotted and tangled.

The walk to my front door seemed longer than it ever had before. I didn’t know what to expect on the other side of that door. I didn’t know what he was going to say, what he was going to do, what he wanted me to say or do...it all sped through my brain and I reached for the door and swung it open.

Dave stood in front of me, dripping wet. His blue eyes were glowing brighter than I had ever seen them. His lips were parted, and he panted lightly as water dripped from his side-parted locks. He had a slight stubble on his face, and looked tired, but I had never seen him look so beautiful. We both simply stood, staring, drinking each other in, the pounding rain serving as a backdrop to the silence. Seeing him there in front of me, I couldn't believe how I had gone two weeks without seeing him. Just as I couldn’t bare the distance between us any longer, he lunged through the doorway, took my face in both of his hands, and kissed me.

My entire insides exploded with sensation. I melted into him, every inch of my body enveloped in a wave of heat. As I wrapped my arms around his wet shoulders, eagerly kissing him back, he deepened the kiss, moving his hands down to my waist, pulling me close to his body. His mouth and his tongue were extremely hot, and he kissed me with such urgency and hunger that it was almost frightening. Everything about his kiss was so perfect, and I asked myself how I had gone this long without letting him do this to me. If I had known it would be this amazing, I would have kissed him in the club. On the beach. The moment I laid eyes on him. I couldn’t imagine another moment without my lips pressed against his.

As I dragged him towards my bedroom, our lips staying on each others, he peeled off his jacket, and I started unfastening the belt of his jeans. As things began to heat up, he began to pant lightly and I felt his hot, delicious breath in my mouth. When we reached the bedroom and I shut my door, he yanked his t-shirt slowly over his head, his firm stomach muscles revealing themselves to me in slow motion. I had gotten to know his upper body well over the past month, but now, it belonged to me, and I could do whatever I wanted with it. As he lowered me down to the bed, I ran my hands along his chest and down his abdomen. In one quick tug, he yanked his belt out of his belt loops, and I giggled. “You are so gorgeous,” he whispered, his Swedish accent thick. As he whispered, he lowered his mouth to my neck and pressed his lips to my skin, down my collarbone and towards my breasts. He lifted my thin v-neck over my head and unfastened my bra in one quick, swift motion. As articles of our clothing began to remove themselves one by one, we became more and more aware of each other. We were both trembling; he wanted this as badly as I did. He was experiencing this psychotic adrenaline high the same way I was. We both knew that our bodies needed to be together, and that every inch of his skin needed to touch every inch of mine. As our bodies finally came together, and every sensation I had been feeling up to that moment exponentially intensified, I threw my head back in ecstasy, and he left out a soft, deep moan. Everything was perfect. He was perfect. His body was perfect. I couldn’t imagine it any other way, and it was all reality.