Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
WILL
I shut my computer for the day with a sigh. Today was unbearably dull. After spending those few days in the company of Sophie, it’s difficult to dive back into my work routine … even if said work is for Sophie, too.
“Busy day, Bill?” Rob asks upon hearing my sigh. He’s been working in my office for the day to get my thoughts on another project from time to time.
“Nah.” I shrug and pack my stuff in my satchel, avoiding Rob’s gaze.
“Got any big weekend plans?” he says.
“Not really,” I reply. I’ve already blocked the entirety of Saturday to spend with Rachel. Karan took me up on my suggestion and is taking the twins out for the day to give Rachel some space on our mother’s birthday.
Remembering my manners, I add: “Got any plans of your own tonight?” I don’t particularly care, but part of this job is maintaining civil relationships with my coworkers.
“Actually, yes,” he pipes up, his salt and pepper coils bouncing on the top of his head when he straightens his back excitedly. “The husband and I are going to see the Garden of Lights. It’s the perfect time to go; the sun’s setting early enough for it to be dark, but the evenings aren’t ridiculously cold yet.”
A knot forms in my chest. The Garden of Lights is one of Rachel and Océane’s favourite autumn activities in the city. They go together every year. And every year, they’ve invited me to tag along.
I’ve always said no.
“Nice,” I say flatly. “Hope you have fun.” I don’t lock eyes with him, hoping he won’t see the twinge of shame that lit me up just for a moment.
“We will! Say hi to Rachel for me,” Rob says as I’m headed out the door.
“Will do, Rob.”
I shove the thought of the Garden of Lights aside and think about Rachel instead. I go to my sister’s house every Thursday evening for dinner. We’ve done this ever since the twins were born four years ago.
At first, I was the one who brought groceries and who would cook Rachel and Karan a good meal so they could take a moment to recover. But since then, it’s evolved into Rachel or Karan making me elaborate meals with me not being allowed to touch anything in the kitchen. Rachel keeps saying I’ve ‘done enough to help,’ but in all honesty, I think she’d rather I give them a break from the kids while she or Karan cooks.
I don’t mind either way. I adore these kids like they’re my own.
But yesterday, I asked her if we could do our usual dinner tonight instead. I didn’t know how late I’d end up staying at Sophie’s place. Plus, I can just sleep at their house and be there with Rachel on Saturday morning.
Rachel and her family live in Westmount, so it’s a quick five-minute metro ride from work in the core of downtown to their condo. I get off at Atwater station and walk toward their place, keeping my corduroy jacket open while I do. It’s an unusually warm day for late October, and there’s so little wind that almost none of the red, orange, and golden leaves atop the trees lining the streets fall across my vision.
Rachel’s condo is on the second floor of a triplex, fronted by the familiar winding stairs that are so typical of Montréal. I’ve barely made it up the stairs and gotten ready to ring the doorbell when the door opens.
Cayce stands in the doorway with a big, toothy smile. “I saw you from the window!” he chimes before giving me space to walk in.
No sooner have I walked indoors and shut the door behind me than his brother Corey comes running up to me. I catch him in flight and scoop Cayce with him in my arms. “How do you boys get taller every single time I see you? I see you guys all the time!”
“I eat all my veggies,” Cayce responds. “But Corey doesn’t.”
“Hey, that’s not true!”
“Settle down, boys.” Rachel’s voice echoes further down the hallway. Both twins freeze in my arms at the sound of their mother’s voice. I look up and see Rachel walking up to me, her long chestnut hair gathered up in a messy bun. She’s wearing the Thursday dinner apron, even though it’s Friday, which means she’s the one handling dinner tonight. From the looks of it, she’s using flour in whatever she’s making.
I put the boys down and meet Rachel for an embrace. Apart from Matt, who’s out of the equation now anyways, Rachel has always been my best friend. She and I are much closer in age than Océane. While we’re two years apart, Océane arrived a full decade after Rachel.
I’m especially happy to see Rachel tonight. There’s a lot on my mind, and I’m sure her feminine wisdom could help me out a ton.
I hold our embrace for a bit longer than usual. Rachel notices right away. As she pulls away, her green eyes squint at me with a curious look. “You look like you’ve had a long day.”
“You could say that.” I take off my boots, and she gives me a soft smile.
“Well, you’ll need to tell me all about it. But I need to go check on my pasta.” She rushes back down the hall into the kitchen and dining room. Karan crosses her as he exits and taps her ass lightly, eliciting a giggle from her.
“Hey, Will,” he greets me. When Rachel is out of earshot, he leans in closer and continues, “Thank you. Seriously.”
“That’s what family does.” Now I just wish I could do the same for Océane.
I play with the twins in the living room while Rachel gets dinner ready. When she calls us to the table, we all happily dig in. If there’s one thing our parents did right, it was teaching us how to cook.
“Something’s different with you tonight, Will,” Rachel says in between two bites of pasta. “But I can’t put my finger on what it is.”
“He’s got a fart face!” Corey cries out. Upon hearing that, his brother starts giggling.
Karan gives them both a stern glare. “Boys, what did we say about using those types of words at the kitchen table?”
The twins give each other a look and try to stifle their laughter, then they resume eating. Or, at least, what passes as ‘eating’ when you’re a four-year-old boy. If half their food makes it into their mouths, it’s a good attempt.
“No, but really,” Rachel insists. “You’re … I don’t know. Smilier?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Smilier? Really?”
She tilts her head at me. “You know what I mean.”
I take a good bite of pasta and take my time chewing, letting the flavours dance over my tastebuds. As I do, Rachel just stares at me impatiently. Karan sports a shit-eating grin. Teasing Rachel is an activity we both love to indulge in.
When I swallow, Rachel huffs out a loud breath. But instead of saying anything of note, I simply say: “You’ve outdone yourself, Rachel. This has got to be the best carbonara I’ve ever had.”
“Oh my God,” she exclaims, almost slamming her fist on the table. Her face flushes. “Tell me what’s going on now or you’re banned from Thursday dinners forevermore.”
“But it’s Friday.”
“Will!”
As much as I want to tell her everything, I can’t. At least, not yet. I look at the twins and pinch my lips together before looking back at Rachel. “It’s a … sensitive topic.”
“You’re the worst,” Rachel mutters.
Everyone finishes their meal in casual conversation. While Rachel and Karan do the dishes, I take the boys out to the park to throw a frisbee; by the time we’re back inside after dusk, the boys are spent and ready for bed.
Karan takes over bath duty, leaving Rachel and me to enjoy a beer in the living room. She curls up on one end of the couch with a fuzzy blanket while I sit on the other end. “Okay, so what is up with you?” she asks in a hushed tone.
“I didn’t tell you this last week,” I start. “But … Sophie’s back in my life.” Her jaw drops to the floor. I don’t waste any time and catch her up on the past few weeks, including the last couple of days spent at Sophie’s place. I don’t mention punching Matt because I’m not looking for a lecture.
Rachel’s lips erupt into a huge grin. “Will, that’s amazing.” She’s always known I’m drawn to Sophie. Of course, she never encouraged me to go for it, because Sophie was always out of bounds. But she was there to listen to me rant whenever I thought I’d met someone who could rival her … and ended up being wrong.
No matter what I did, Sophie always lived rent-free in my mind. Currently, the one thing I keep circling back to is how Sophie dismissed me yesterday—and every unspoken word that remained on my lips.
I think I’ll be just fine , she’d said, seeming only partially sure of herself. And that made me want to grab her by the shoulders and tell her, I want you to be more than just fine. You deserve so much more than fine.
“I don’t know what to do, Rachel.” I sigh before taking a swig of my beer. “Matt screwed her over so badly. And she thinks I’m some sort of player, so how is she ever going to trust me to be different than him? Even if she did, wouldn’t she be weirded out to date her cheating ex’s best friend?” All of this is true. But not being close to her is suffocating me. And being close to her without touching her? It’s an acid bath. But at least I can breathe.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Rachel says, shaking her head. “Because I’m not her. I don’t know her. I’ve never even met her. All I know is your perspective of Sophie. So what I’d want in that situation is not going to be the same as what she wants.”
“Well, I’ve laid out the situation for you, and you’re smart,” I retort. “So, enlighten me. What do you think?”
Rachel takes a sip of her beer. As she thinks, her silence is layered with the sound of the boys giggling and splashing in their bath. Her eyes lose their focus, looking out in deep thought.
“How long have you been in love with Sophie again?” she finally asks.
My body stiffens. I’ve spoken about Sophie to Rachel so many times; too many times to count. Of course I feel something toward this woman. But it’s not love.
It can’t be love.
“I’m not in love with her,” I say quickly.
Rachel rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is me levelling with you here … How long have you been feeling whatever you’re feeling, then?”
“Ten years.”
“Okay,” she continues. “So … if I were you, I wouldn’t rush anything.” She pierces me with her green eyes. “Don’t push her. Don’t fuck this up. Just be what she needs right now, without asking for anything more. Be patient. And with time … she’ll learn to trust you.” She squints at me. “Oh, and I hope this goes without saying, but don’t go fucking other girls in the meantime, even if you’re not getting any from her.” Her lips curl in a lopsided grin.
I roll my eyes. “You think so highly of me.” But silently, I absorb every word she’s just said, letting them roll over the ridges of my brain.
I can do that. I can be what she needs me to be. Rachel is right; I’ve already waited ten years. If I need to wait ten more for her to be comfortable and learn to trust me, so be it.
And if she can never bring herself to trust me, at least she’ll be in my life. Because this last year spent without her was hell. I never want to return there again.
By the time I wake up the next morning, Karan and the twins are gone. There’s rustling in the kitchen, so I step inside, eyes still puffy from sleep. Rachel has her back to me, her long chestnut hair tied back into a loose braid, her hands scrubbing at something in the sink.
I grab myself a cup of coffee from the half-full carafe and take a seat at the kitchen table without saying a word. I know there’s no use. She’ll come to me when she’s ready. And I know that me being here is already better than her being alone.
It takes a good ten minutes—and a third of my cup of coffee—until Rachel stops scrubbing. She doesn’t turn around. “Océane should be here.”
My heart lurches. “I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t want to be reminded of Mom’s existence at all.”
Rachel’s palm grips the counter. “Maybe. I just …”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Rachel owes nothing to anyone. She’s the one who stepped up. She stepped up for her sister. She stepped up as a mom and wife. And whenever I’ve wanted to talk about Sophie, she’s stepped up for me, too.
Finally, she turns. Her face is streaked with tears. “It’s not fair,” she whimpers.
I bolt from my chair and waltz to my sister, gathering her in my arms. “I know.”
She returns the embrace and grips my back in a desperate hold. “We got a real childhood. She didn’t. And now my boys won’t get to know their grandparents because …” Her voice breaks into a sob.
I hold her quietly as she cries against my chest. She’s right. It isn’t fair that Océane couldn’t feel safe in the same home that nurtured Rachel and me. If I’d stepped up earlier, joined Rachel against my parents, maybe things could have turned out differently. Maybe they would have listened and cut Océane some slack.
But I was complicit in my silence.
This is my fault, I think to myself as I hold Rachel. I have to make amends. This is just the beginning.