Chapter 34
VIVIENNE
I told myself I had no tears left to cry, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
All it took was one movie where two reluctant people fall in love, break up, and find their way back to each other to refill my tear ducts.
For someone who’s avoided relationships for so long, it doesn’t make sense why I love rom-coms as much as I do, but sitting here, stewing in my sadness, I’ve finally figured out why.
They have something I’ve always wanted, something that’s always seemed so close yet so far out of reach—a happily ever after.
From the death of my parents to my tragic university relationship, and for the longest time, my failed chemistry, I turned to these movies as an outlet to escape the harsh truths of my reality.
Now that I’ve had a taste of the very things I’ve yearned for and had them ripped away, I’ve fallen back into old habits.
Feet propped up on the couch, heavy blanket slung over me, and a bowl of jumbo roasted peanuts in hand. I spent the last two hours bawling over a blond girl in a gorgeous yellow dress and her love match. The only difference is that she got her man by the end, and I’ve lost mine.
With fresh tears in my eyes and an even deeper hollow in my heart, I do the one thing I told myself I’d never do—look him up on the internet.
It’s been less than a week, but I miss his face, his smile, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t watching. The answer to what he’s been doing is at the tip of my fingers, and when I finally cave, the headlines have me roped in for a wild ride.
Archer Aviation x SkyWay Airlines: How These Two Companies Plan on Revolutionizing Air Travel.
From Fountain Flop to Flying High: A Step-by-Step Guide to the Ultimate Comeback a la Nate Archer.
Chemistry Conference Chaos: Everything We Know About Nate Archer’s Shocking Split from Fiancée.
The last headline splits my already broken heart. I’m not sure how they’ve already gotten that information. Maybe they spotted my bare ring finger, or Nate tipped off the press. Regardless, I choose to ignore it when the news is mostly focused on his company.
Three knocks on the door startle me.
I freeze, wondering who it could be. We never got any visitors, and my best friends won’t be back home until later in the evening.
“Wrong door for delivery,” I yell out.
When another knock follows, I stand up in frustration.
“As I said, we didn’t order anything!” I say louder this time, making sure whoever it is hears me. “If it’s knitting supplies, then they're for Mrs. Smith, and she’s on the other side of the hallway.”
I stop abruptly at the thought.
I’ve never knitted before, but it sounds like the perfect, tear-free hobby…definitely better than watching people fall in love.
“Actually, the delivery is mine! Don’t knock on her door, please.”
With thoughts of stealing knitting supplies, I open the door—and find no one.
My gaze falls on my science-themed pajamas, wool-socked feet, and the Trespassers Will Be Used for Science doormat.
There’s absolutely nothing here.
I slam the door behind me with a resounding bang, angry that I’ve been ding-dong ditched by some kid when a white napkin slides under. It lands at the tips of my toes, the words scribbled in blue ink.
I know I disappeared, is written in handwriting I don’t recognize.
There’s no time to process what it could mean when another follows.
But I didn’t know how to deal with my emotions over the news I’d gotten.
I huff in disbelief—sounds like a man. Though I’m not one to judge when all I’ve done is watch TV and weep.
It’s then that the napkins start coming in quick succession, and the realization of who’s on the other side of the door hits me like a meteor—hard and fast.
I said I wanted to end our arrangement because it felt wrong to keep you around under those pretenses.
While it might have been what brought us together, it isn’t what defines us. The memories we’ve made, the experiences we’ve had, and the fears we’ve overcome mean more to me than a fake title.
But going on as if everything was fine felt wrong, no matter how much I care about you. My avoidance wasn’t without reason, and if you’d let me, I’d really appreciate a moment to explain myself.
I meant it when I said I love you, and I hope the truth doesn’t change the way you feel about me.
When the napkins stop coming, and my shock subsides, I fling the door open to find Nate with a bouquet of red roses and a box of chocolates in his arms. There’s a faint smile on his face, but it falls when I push him in the chest. He jolts back from the force, and that’s when the wave of emotions runs through me.
Anger. Sadness. Longing.
No matter how many follow, the first one prevails.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is harsh, firm.
Nate’s eyes wander to the ground, lingering with shame. “Can I come in?” he asks.
I want to say yes, drop my act, and let him engulf me in his warmth until our hearts melt, pool at our feet, and solidify so we’re never separated again.
But he hurt me badly and ignored me when he could have given me this so-called explanation to begin with.
So I inch the door closed, leaving only a sliver of space to speak to him.
“You can tell me whatever you want to say from out there.”
His green eyes look heavy, full of hurt, and while the sight breaks my heart, I stand firm. He hands me the flowers and chocolates, and though I’m tempted to refuse, I end up taking them.
I’ll need the cacao for my next cry.
“I’m not sure where I should start,” he says on a loud sigh, meeting my gaze in what I can only describe as a shot of despair.
“But do you remember when I asked you if you’d want to know what happened to your parents?
” Nate holds out a manila envelope. “I think it’ll be necessary for you to find out.
That is, if you’re willing to give us a second chance. ”
I meet his gaze with hesitation, letting out a long breath as I take it from his hand. Our fingers brush, and a shock of recognition passes through me at his touch, but also the words scrawled in black Sharpie.
Thought I’d do you a favor.
The sentence leers at me like a taunt, a quiet threat I know will break my heart. And from the difference in handwriting on the napkins, I know Nate didn’t write this.
Every brain cell in my body is telling me not to go through with this. To put the past where it belongs and move on with my growth. But my heart, the part of me that fell so deeply for the man in front of me, wants to see this through to the end.
With shaky hands, I reach in and pull out an imperfect stack of papers. They look ragged, as though someone had pondered over these pages with sweaty palms for way too long and slammed them against every imaginable surface.
I flip through the document, stopping when highlighted words grab my attention.
Leslie and Johnson Brown.
The two people who brought me into this world and left me before their time.
A little more reading shows this to be the report detailing their plane crash—the very one that got buried in their so-called failed investigation. The cause? Defect by a novel alloy.
“Remember when I told you that Carter stole my idea in college and set up his own company?”
I tilt my head in confusion, wondering why he’s even telling me this. But when the puzzle pieces all click together, tears well in my own eyes before I can stop them.
“I’m so sorry, Vivienne. This is all my fault. If I had known—”
His words fade into the abyss as my mind starts to spin, racing through thousands of possibilities. What would my life have been like if none of this ever happened? How did I manage to fall for the man involved in all of it?
The air feels like it’s been ripped out of this room. I inhale then exhale, but it never feels like enough. I do it again. And again. Until I’m heaving, gasping, my chest burning, desperate for air that never seems enough.
A hand lands on my shoulder, snapping me out of my anxiety-fueled daze.
“Vivienne. Are you with me? Do you need water?” Nate asks with concern.
I flinch, my gaze snapping to where it had rested. Pink pajamas. Test tubes. Chemicals. The memory of his touch stings. Nate once had this ability to quiet my anxious mind, steady me when I was lost—but now, I feel like the spiral pulling me under is unstoppable.
“Vivienne, are you alright?"
He takes another step forward, arm out for me, when I put a hand up to stop him from going any further.
“I need you to leave me alone.”
I meet his gaze when my words escape me, the anguish in his eyes hurting me more than I could have ever imagined. Eventually, I look away, unable to take in the sight of him breaking when I’m doing the same.
“I just—I need time to think,” I correct myself.
I catch his slight bow of acknowledgment before his figure fades, leaving behind an empty hallway and an even emptier heart.
To have thought I moved on from the past is almost comical, because the second the door closes, I fall apart all over again, every piece of me unraveling till I’m left numb.
———
No valid driver’s license. No problem. That’s what I told myself when I borrowed Sutton’s car keys (with her knowledge) and made the trip to Pennsylvania.
My hometown.
A place that held so many great memories until they turned black.
Crisp, cold winter air bites at my skin as I step out of the vehicle. I rub my mitten-clad hands together as I wind down the main path. Endless rows of tombstones stretch before me. I take a deep breath, heart breaking all over again as the tears spill down my cheeks.
I haven’t been here since I moved to New York City.
I haven’t been here since the summer they left.
And the shame that fills me is incomparable to anything I’ve felt before.
They were too young to be taken away from this world, and I was too young for them to be taken away from me. The thought of coming back here always felt like a reminder of something that I’d lost and the gaping hole they left in its wake.
I always told myself this was just part of the cycle of life—we’re born, we live, and we die. But it wasn’t right to take it away from someone unwillingly.
It takes me a minute to locate my parents’ graves, but when I finally come across those gray tombstones, I crash down to my knees, not caring that the snow is already soaking through my jeans.
“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad,” I say, lips quivering as tears burn down my cheeks. “I know it’s been a while, but I hope you can forgive me.” My voice cracks as the memories resurface, all the more prominent with blurred vision.
It’s like they take place in real time.
Evenings cooking in the kitchen with Mom. Getting yelled at by Dad for actually stopping at stop signs rather than rolling through them. Crushing them in the biggest bear hugs when life was getting overwhelming.
It was always about the little things. Now I’ll never get the chance to experience them anymore.
“I have some updates for you, if you’d like to hear. You may be proud. You may be disappointed. I guess I’ll never really know.”
I wait for a sign that they’re here with me. That their spirit might awaken the world around me—trees murmuring, birds chirping, stars suddenly brightening. But nothing comes, only the eerie sigh of the wind passing through the trees in the dead of this starless night.
“Last time I was here, I was eighteen. I’m twenty-six now,” I say with a bitter laugh. “I know, I know. I’m getting old, hence the graying. But somehow, I don’t mind it because it reminds me of you, Dad,” I choke out on a sniffle.
“I guess you missed some big milestones in my life, so I’ll recap them for you as quickly as possible. First, I graduated from college. You weren’t there, but I wished you were…”
The tears soak the neck of my coat as I keep talking.
“I’m now doing a PhD in chemistry, and I think I’ll finish up in the next year…You won’t be there for that graduation either, but I’m really hoping you’re watching from above.”
I bite away at my quivering bottom lip, throwing my head back to stare up at the dark sky. My eyes close on their own accord as I recall all the other moments in my life that they missed. But most importantly, how I should have come back here more often to update them.
“I also had my first heartbreak—his name was Casandro, and he’s an absolute piece of shit, so we shouldn’t feel that bad.” I chuckle at that one, and in my mind, they are too. “I also overcame my fear of planes recently, thanks to this aerospace engineer. And he’s my first real love.”
I wipe the salty streams away with the back of my mittens, working through the confessions I should have shared long ago.
“You would have loved him too,” I say with a small smile. “His name is Nate, and he’s so funny, and so sweet, and so kind. He makes the mundane feel extraordinary, and he told me today that he loves me too, but I never said it back because he might be the reason you’re gone.”
The tears keep rolling as I recount all the things they missed and apologize for not having visited more often. But it’s in the moment of sadness that I gain the most clarity.
He may have had implications for coming up with the idea, but none of it was his fault, and holding that against him would be wrong.
My head bows down low as I try to gather myself—my thoughts.
They're all swirling around like one big volcano ready to erupt. I’m on the verge of hyperventilating again when I hear a crack in the distance.
It’s so weak. So small. Not loud enough to be a human when this place is so deserted in the dead of night.
I look up to find two small brown birds perched on top of each of my parents’ tombstones.
The one on my dad’s is slightly bigger than my mom’s—dad bod and all—with a streak of gray running through its head. The other bird looks smaller and so kind, exactly like my mother.
I can’t help but think it's no coincidence.
I wave in their direction, wanting to believe it’s the two people I’ve lived the past ten years of my life without.
They stand there, in silence, staring at me with so much admiration I’d like to believe they’re proud of what they see.
That their only daughter is exactly who they thought she’d turn out to be.
But I know that isn’t them. They would have loved me and accepted me no matter what.
With that thought, the birds chirp. The one on my dad’s stone jumps over to my mom’s, kissing her before flying away.
My heart is full, and my mind is all over the place, but I feel at peace. They may not be with me in the physical, but their spirit lies elsewhere.
Life is short, unpredictable, and not always fair. But that’s what makes it so special. Time is never guaranteed. The people you love can leave at any moment, which is why you need to make sure they know just how important they are to you.
And I’ve got one who comes to the forefront of my mind.