Five long days and nights it had taken Eric to come back to her. Stacy knew without a doubt it was him. Who else would rap on her door with such fierce intensity past nine o’clock on a Thursday night? She went to the door and checked through the peephole. Yep, there he stood. Looking far too good for words, his hair neatly groomed, which was unusual, and his face clean-shaven. He was dressed nice, as if he had plans to go somewhere and she wondered if she was included in those plans. And immediately berated herself for even thinking such a thing. She didn’t need to go anywhere with him. She shouldn’t even open the door. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. But she opened the door anyway. Her heart stopped at having him so close, at the sight of the hopeful smile on his face. Just like that she wanted to melt. She wanted to run into his arms and tell him he was an asshole in the same breath that she wanted to confess she missed him. Yeah, she had it so bad she didn’t even want to fight it anymore.
