THE ONE
I drop Franny off on Jackson Square. We exchange digits and promise to hit each other’s phones. It makes me more at ease, having a tangible item to remind me that he’s real. No one can disprove his existence. I have proof now.
I arrive at the apartment building and slip out of my car. A sudden sweep of frigid air whips my face and hair. I tremble, shouldering my bag and tightening my light coat. The temperature has been dropping fast since I left work. Snow is falling and starting to stick, swathing the ground.
I head inside the lobby and onto the elevator. Once it reaches the sixth floor, the bell dings and the door slides open. I step off onto my floor and head for Jeff’s apartment. It’s hard for me to call it home. I’m a guest, and sometimes, I feel like an unwelcome one. But
