The martini glass swirled lightly in her hand.

Where is he?

She takes a sip, stopping the whirlpool within. Turning to the left she attempts to see past the closed doors, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, his face will appear through those glass windows.

He was supposed to meet me an hour ago…

She starts writing a note to him, to describe what was truly reeling through her mind:
“Dear Jeff, I want you to know how much you mean to me and all I have feel for you. I wish you could just feel the same way towards me.

“This heartbreak is daunting and I hate this mountain I must climb in order to get to you…”

She stops writing. His face is at the door. He is not going to read the note, because no matter how much she longs for him when he is away, she will always feel elated to be around him. He always did make the blood run to her face.

She breathes in deep as he pulls her into a close hug…