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“Oh.”
“Only if you want to stay there, that is?” He turned as she was caught again by his eyes.
“Thank you,” she managed. He looked back at the road freeing her from his glance.
They reached the place a little after two in the morning. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, inviting her in with a flourish of his hand. She hesitated, unsure for a second and then stepped inside timidly. As with any unfamiliar place her eyes roved the room, trying to absorb every detail. The walls, the ceiling, the TV in the corner and an open doorway into the kitchen.
“Would you like a drink?” He grinned again, “Coffee?”
She copied his grim as she remembered her last ditch evasion at the restaurant.
“Yes, thanks.” He turned and went into the kitchen and she followed his figure with her eyes. His wide shoulders reminded her of big silent doormen at nightclubs in town. He must be very strong, she thought and panic reared inside her at what that might mean.
Steam rose from the kettle as it came to the boil, filling the kitchen with wet billows. She sat on the edge of the sofa and he came in, a mug held easily in each hand. They clinked as he set them down on the glass-topped coffee table. She reached for hers and cradled it in her lap. He settled back in his armchair and watched her. There was that uneasy vacuum again and she stared into the swirl of her coffee. She sipped.
“Two sugars,” she said with a note of surprise in her voice. She looked at him and he shrugged.
“Force of habit,” he said and lifted his own mug. His eyes drew her again, a deep blue colour that contrasted with his white-blond fringe. She stared into his stare, almost unable to look away. Deep blue. Not ‘penetrating’ but more… inviting. She accepted the invitation, finding no pressures in meeting his gaze fully and openly. And she opened like a book. Out it fell in a torrent of explanation, until she could barely get one word out before another.
Words of horror, disappointment, a pregnancy she couldn’t pin on a single man, a stepfather unable to cope with the shame, a flight into a strange city with no friends and no money. No hope. And he sat and absorbed the pain like an empty vessel, nodding, murmuring, encouraging, sucking the hurt away until she heaved a great breath that ended in uncontrollable sobs. Her eyes blurred with tears, her breathing ragged and uneven, she felt his weight on the sofa beside her and his great arm about her trembling shoulders. She leaned against him until the grief had gone and left in its place the light-headed emptiness of relief.
When she was quiet he helped her from the sofa and led her to the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and snapped on the light. He smiled sadly, warmly.
“I’ve got to go,” he said. She looked up suddenly in surprise. She caught herself. What was she expecting? She silently admonished herself. He probably had a wife and six kids to go home to. She nodded.
“Okay.” She said.
“Will you be alright?” he asked. She gave him a watery smile.
“Yeah. I’ll be okay.” A pause. “I’m a big girl, now.” He nodded satisfied.
“I’ll look in tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He turned to the door and dropped the flat key onto the bookcase. “Wait!” she said. He paused in the doorway and turned around. “I don’t even know you’re name.” He smiled.
“Uriel”