They found the apartment easily. The lights were on even though it was disastrously late in the evening. The light in the bedroom and bathroom were on. The bedroom curtains slightly parted. And the shape of a figure passing by, glimpsed but not fully seen.
“She’s there. She’s awake,” Sebastian said, reaching for the door handle.
Lana pulled him back. “Wait. Look.”
A second figure made for an unexpected silhouette.
Frieda felt awful for being there. Dirty and vile. Like a peeping pervert.
“We should go,” Frieda told him, turning her keys in the ignition.
Sebastian reached over and removed the keys. “No. Wait. I don’t understand.”
And looking into Sebastian’s open, naïve face, she realized he truly did not understand. How could he?
“She has company. She isn’t alone, sweetie. She has a friend over.”
The bathroom light went out. Then, after a long, excruciating moment, the bedroom light.
Sebastian held his face in his hands. “She doesn’t know I’m here,” he said at last. “She doesn’t realize I’m here.”
“No. I mean, how could she? And tonight’s not the time to let her know.” Frieda watched Sebastian for a long moment, weighing her options, already in much deeper than she had intended, knowing there were no alternatives. She would have to do the decent thing.
“Come on,” she said at last. “You can crash at my place. I’ve got a sofa bed. You can get some sleep. Think this over in the morning. This will make better sense in the morning.”
Sebastian doubted that last part very much, but the truth was truth. There was nothing to be gained by barging in tonight. He had waited so long already. He could wait one more night. He could wait until morning.