She wasn't nervous. Most definitely not. Her nails were bitten to shreds - even more so than usual - and she'd gone through what was left of her cigarette pack, but she wasn't nervous. The apartment didn't look like it had been ransacked by armed police trying to find out where she might be. Nothing much had changed since she'd left.
An ashtray between spread legs, Delilah held her stomach. It was a bit like a first day of school, only she knew what she was in for this time. She could make predictions.
He was going to walk in and she was going to say hi and he'd be surprised that she was back, but probably not show it... Or maybe he'd yell.
Gil? Never.
What was she afraid of, anyway, besides being confronted with the reality of having put someone else in danger by up and leaving like she had?
A key twisted in the door and she stiffened involuntarily. Her heart skipped a beat.