The rain came down in sheets, soaking Damien to the skin. He stood outside Chloe's building, his hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping from his lashes, but he didn't move from the buzzer.
"Chloe," he said again, his voice heavy, gravelly from the cold and everything else weighing on him. "Please."
The intercom clicked on. Her voice came through, cold as the air around him.
"I said talk. You wanted to talk, so go ahead. I'm listening."
Damien closed his eyes, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"Not like this."
He looked up at the speaker box as if it were her face.
"Not through this damn thing."
"Well, I don't care. You can yell through the rain for all I care. Maybe next time, bring a phone. That way you'd know I've been trying to reach you."
His throat tightened. "I know."
He stepped back slightly, rain streaking down his face like tears. "I saw the messages. I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Damien." She snapped.
