12 hours.
That Man was back in town for 12 hours. In between business trips, he spent less than 12 hours in his apartment.
You would think, then, that there was no way that we could possibly get ourselves into any trouble. That's where you would be wrong.
I had come back to New Jersey last night before her got back because, well, he was only going to be here for 12 hours. I wasn't going to see him anyway, and I had laundry to do. So I was watching the end of the Jets game when he texted me telling me he had gotten home safely. A conversation that started innocently enough, but over the next hour or so, it escalated as it always does, with photos flying back and forth. Finally, he asked me to come and see him, not realizing where I was.
In my typical fashion where he is involved, I did something incredibly stupid. I explained that I was in Jersey, but that I had the keys to the car in my hand and could be there in only 10 minutes longer than a cab from my Manhattan apartment would have taken. He immediately insisted he would never ask me to drive so late. I reminded him that I had offered. I scrambled around my house, putting on shoes and my coat, and taking my father's car keys.
That's right, boys and girls, I took my father's car at 2:30 in the morning, and drove it to Queens to see That Man.
The car was parked underneath my parent's bedroom window. I technically only have a provisional license which prohibits me from driving between the hours of 12:01am and 5:00am. I'd never driven to Queens. I'd never even driven in the city in my life. I'd also never driven across the George Washington Bridge. And yet, at 2:30 in the morning, I programmed the GPS system with shaking hands. I told That Man that I was sitting in the car, and asked him if he wanted me to come. He insisted that I be extremely careful, and that I go home again before my parents have a chance to realize I'm gone. I agreed from the stop sign at the bottom of my street.
The car was quiet as I contemplated the fact that I was driving to Queens at 2:30 in the morning in my father's car that he didn't know I had taken to see That Man before he left down again for the rest of the month. I drove in silence, shaking in the driver's seat, terrified to drive a single mile per hour over the speed limit. I flitted through streets, down highways, and over the two bridges that separated me from That Man. Raindrops fell on my windshield intermittently. After what felt like forever, I reached a section of Queens I recognized from my late night cab rides, and called That Man from the corner of his street. I parked under his building and fell into his arms the second I stepped out of the car.
We just held onto each other for a while before going inside. Upstairs, he held me in his arms until I managed to calm down. I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in. He ran his fingers through my hair. We laughed at the ridiculousness of what was happening. We mused over what would happen if I were to get caught. We smiled and kissed and our fingers entwined. We stayed holding each other again for a bit before falling into bed together. Every moment I spent with him was worth what I had done to get there. We lay in bed running our fingertips over each other's bodies. We talked about his future trips, and I sat with him while he folded his laundry and packed to leave in the morning. He walked me to the car, and we kissed goodbye.
I drove my car home, and replaced it in the driveway facing the opposite direction it had been in when I took it, praying that my father would be none the wiser as I replaced the mirror and seat position and put the Navigation CD away. I bolted up the driveway to the door only to hear my dogs start barking as I put my key in the lock. I ran to the kitchen and replaced my coat and scarf on the chair they'd been hanging on earlier that evening, and plugged my phone into its charger. I kicked off my shoes and ran into my father's office replacing his car keys on his desk before running back into the kitchen in an attempt to quiet the dogs. I heard footsteps overhead and freaked. I tried harder to quiet the dogs, and was standing in front of them when my father appeared around the corner coming into the kitchen. He asked if it was me that they had seen and started barking. I said yes. He asked what I was doing. I picked up my phone and its charger from the kitchen counter, unplugged it and gestured with it. He said okay. I ran upstairs to bed. After speaking with my mother this morning, they both believe I fell asleep on the couch and woke up around 5.
I sit now at my computer, tired, sore, and grinning because I haven't managed to shower yet and I still smell him on my skin.
Stupidest thing I've ever done? Absolutely.
Worth it? Without a doubt.
~Jessica
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