‘That’s because, she is the gorgeous woman that should be on your arm.’ A voice tells him.
“Shit,” Adam mumbles. The voice must be right. He’s been disconnected ever since the first time she didn’t return his call.
He quickly grabs his phone from his pocket as it vibrates.
He was hoping it would have been Sarah finally calling him back. Instead it is just Brian reminding him of her.
Fine he texts back.
He grabs his coat off the chair and leaves the comfort of his apartment. He makes his way to the nearest grocery store and buys some fresh soup from the deli. He stops at the bakery and picks up brownies.
It’s a beautiful night out. He decides to enjoy it and strolls to Sarah’s. There’s an extra bounce in his step. He’s confident that he’ll get a response tonight. He hopes that Brian is right and that Sarah has just been sick.
“Mister Adam,” Walter greets him with a nod.
“Hi Walter,” Adam returns his greeting.
“Checking on our miss Sarah again, are you?”
“Definitely,” Adam flashes him a quick smile. “Oh,” her reaches into the bag, “and I brought you a treat too.”
Walter takes the small brown bag from Adam and peeks inside. “Mmmm,” his eyebrows go up and his smile spreads from ear to ear, “it smells so fresh. Brownies are quickly becoming my favorite.”
Adam smiles, happy with himself.
“Good luck with miss Sarah,” Walter says, distracted by the brownie. Without looking up at Adam, he reaches into the bag and pulls it out to examine it more closely.
“Thank you sir,” Adam says as he makes his way to the elevator.
Adam takes a deep breath when he finally stands outside Sarah’s door. Lightly, he knocks three times. He hears shuffling inside but not the lock or the handle of the door move. He lays his hand on the door and looks down.
“Sarah,” he says quietly, “I brought you something.”
He listens carefully and hears more shuffling. Was he wrong in thinking she was near the door?
He knocks another three times with a little more force. “Sarah?”
This time he is sure the shuffling is coming closer to the door.
“Sarah,” he repeats, “It’s Adam.”
He thinks he hears her whisper on the other side of the door.
“I brought you something Sarah.”
The lock clicks and he has to force himself to not have a stupid grin on his face. When the door opens and he lays his eyes on her, there is no threat of a grin.
“Sarah,” he gasps. He gently pushes his way into her apartment. It smells like death. He puts the food on the table, when he turns to face her, she is right behind him. He grasps her hands. “I brought you some soup.” He motions for her to sit with him at the table. Her hands are colder than ever. Her cheeks are sunken in. Her face is pale. He releases her hands and opens the soup. She takes the spoon. The smell makes her stomach wrench and her body jerks. Still, she tries to take a small spoonful under Adam’s watchful eyes. She puts the soup in her mouth and her eyes close tightly. Within a second she spits out the soup and gags.
“Sarah,” Adam shouts and jumps up. “What’s the matter?”
“What’s this?” she whispers, barely audible.
“Harvest chicken soup.”
Sarah’s face turns sour. “Garlic?”
“Of course. They say garlic is great for whatever ails you.”
“Not if you’re allergic,” she glares at Adam, insulted.
“Sorry,” Adam mumbles, “I had no idea.”
‘Of course not,’ Sarah thinks, ‘you know nothing of me.’
“Maybe you should just go,” she says.
“I’d rather not,” Adam says, “I’ve been worried about you.”
“It’s just a cold,” Sarah waves her hand at him dismissively; “it’ll pass.”
“I’d like to keep you company,” Adam raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to try to get her to look at him.
“Do what you want,” she says finally, “I’m laying down.”
Adam nods. He reaches to open the curtains to let a little of the setting sun in.
“Please don’t,” Sarah stops him, the anxiety apparent in her voice. “Please, if you insist on staying, please just sit.”
She puts her head on the arm of the couch, her breathing becoming nasally.
Adam sits on the chair and watches her. He’s shocked when he looks around at her apartment.
(c) Rachel Rennie 2015