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Summary
Javed feels a hot pound of blood in his ears, feels it expand to his whole head. He has to steady himself with a hand on the wall. This has literally never occurred to him as a possibility. Javed has spent the last four years assuming he will never see Adam again. The polite and awful woman on the phone yesterday who said she was Adam's publicist -- the reason Javed drank almost two bottles of cheap wine last night and is now skipping work -- had confirmed that chapter of his life was well and truly over.
Adam, on the intercom, asks, "Can I come up?"
Javed buzzes Adam in. What else can he do?
