He held them.
The lobby was quiet except for the snow starting again against the glass, soft and unhurried, the same weather that had tried to take everything on New Year’s Eve and had failed, and Emma walked toward the elevator with her bag over her shoulder and her scarf already pulled up, and Dominic stood holding the door with his foot planted and his eyes on her, not checking his watch, not looking back at the office, not anywhere but there.
“Whenever you can,” he said.
She stepped inside and his hand dropped and the doors began to close on the two of them, and out on the sidewalk Ray the doorman pulled his collar up against the cold, and the tower lights went out floor by floor above him, and nobody was left out in it alone.
