Chapter 15
VIVIAN
Tuesday, November 28
I walk through the kitchen area of the Marioni’s home in Naperville, meticulously checking every detail. “The framing looks really good, Nick. I’m impressed with how you’re keeping things on track despite the weather,” I say, smiling despite the hard hat that’s matting down my hair. Nick, on the other hand, looks rugged and handsome in his hard hat. Why do men always look so good—no, almost sexy—in construction attire?
The framing was just completed over the weekend, and I’m meeting Nick to review the site plans.
“Thanks, Vivian. I have to admit, it’s a bit easier to stay motivated knowing you’ll be stopping by,” he says, winking at me.
I laugh. “Well, if that’s all it takes to stay on schedule, I’ll be stopping by multiple times a week. I hear the General Contractor’s pretty cute too, added bonus for me.” I clear my throat, shifting to a more serious tone. “I did notice a few things I wanted to go over with you. Can we check the plans in there?” I gesture toward the trailer. It’s cold as balls out here, and the trailer will at least be slightly warmer.
“Sure thing,” Nick says, giving an ‘after you’ signal with his hand .
Shoving my hands into my coat pockets to keep them warm, we walk to the trailer. This is the only thing I hate about my job—on-site days when it’s so cold that my nipples could cut glass.
I hate the cold.
The trailer has a large table in the middle with a couple of cheap folding chairs surrounding it. The site plans are spread out in the middle of the table, ready for review. Seeing my plans being brought to life always brings a smile to my face.
I remove my hard hat and tousle my hair, trying to regain a bit of volume.
We take a seat next to each other, and I flip through the sheets to find the correct floor plan I want to discuss. “Here in the living room,” I say, pointing. “These windows need to be precisely aligned for the view we’re aiming for. Everything looks good on the plans, but can we double-check the measurements on-site before the frames are finalized?”
“Definitely.” He leans in slightly. “I’ll make sure it’s perfect.”
“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate the attention to detail. It really makes a difference.”
“Anything else you need, just let me know.”
“Actually, I think that covers it for now. Ready for lunch?” We make eye contact. He hesitates for a moment before leaning in and kissing me. It’s a soft, lingering kiss, gentle yet stimulating. His lips are warm, and as he pulls away, he softly tugs at my bottom lip, sending a delicious warmth spreading through me.
A grin spreads from cheek to cheek; I can’t help it. “If this is our appetizer, I think I might need seconds. I’m not quite finished yet.”
With a mischievous grin, he removes his hat and sets it on the table. In one smooth motion, his hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his lips meet mine. The kiss is intense yet tender, and I find myself melting into it. His lips move expertly, sending goosebumps down my arms.
Just as I’m getting lost in the moment, a sudden realization hits me. I pull back and let out a breathless laugh. “Oh my God, Nick, we’re making out at work! We can’t do this here,” I say, still grinning .
“You’re right,” he chuckles. “Got carried away. Let’s go to lunch. I just need to speak to some of the crew briefly, and then we can go.”
“I can head out now and get us a table. I’ll meet you there?” I ask.
“That sounds great. I won’t be too far behind you.”
“Well, Nick,” I say, extending my hand for a handshake, a playful smile tugging at my lips, hinting at our earlier indiscretion. “Thank you for all your hard work in keeping me satisfied, both in and out of work.”
He chuckles and takes my hand, shaking it. “Always a pleasure. I aim to please, in and out of work.”
I grab my hard hat and walk to the car, grinning. I immediately turn on my heated seats and crank the heat as I scroll through my playlists for the drive to lunch. On a cold, gray November day like today, I settle on an early 2000s mix, letting Green Day, Matchbox Twenty, and Red Hot Chili Peppers fill the car with nostalgia. It’s a comfort playlist for days like this.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lunch with Nick went great. It was fun and easy, the kind of lunch where you lose track of time in conversation. We talked a lot about work, which made things effortless. We exchanged stories about our current projects and discovered more and more that we have similar interests.
Nick is kind, funny, and genuine. I’m really attracted to him. He has sandy blonde hair that’s shorter and styled in a sleek, sophisticated manner, neatly trimmed on the sides with a bit of length on top. His chiseled features are accentuated by short stubble, adding a touch of ruggedness to his appearance. His green eyes are striking against his complexion. Nick’s overall look exudes a blend of suave charm and refined masculinity. He’s hard-working, dedicated to his job, and I enjoy working with him. There is an ease to our conversations, a natural flow that makes everything feel right.
I knew it was important to bring up the fact that I was a widow before we planned anything more for the future. I didn’t want to go into full detail, as that usually leads to me getting emotional. Nick listened intently as I briefly mentioned Ben, explaining that I was a widow and wanted to take things slow, especially regarding sex. He was understanding, nodding and assuring me that he was okay with taking things at my pace.
By the end of the meal, we had agreed to another date this weekend. As I walk back to my car, I feel a mix of excitement and guilt. Nick is wonderful, and I like him a lot; he checks all the boxes. But the thought of Leo lingers at the back of my mind, more persistent than ever, and it ticks me off because I know it’s wasted energy to think of Leo that way.
As I start my forty-minute drive home, I decide to call Sarah. I need her perspective.
She picks up on the third ring. “Hey, Viv, how are you?”
“I’m good, friend. How are you?”
Sarah laughs. “I’m good, but we can talk about me later. What’s up? I can tell you need to bounce your thoughts off me.”
“God, how can you tell that just by asking me how I am?”
“It’s in your voice. I know you too well, friend.”
“That’s almost pathetic.” I laugh. “Okay, so remember the guy, Nick, I told you about?”
“Yeah, you had a date this past weekend, right?”
“Yes, and it went well. Really well. I like him a lot. We have a lot in common, and he kissed me on the porch at the end of the night. It was fire!”
“That’s great! So what’s the problem?”
“Nothing. We made out for a couple of minutes in the site trailer before we went to lunch. Whoops.”
Sarah laughs. “Okay, that’s hot.”
“Yeah, it was. Lunch was great too. I like him even more.”
“But…” Sarah prompts.
“Ugh. I like him a lot, but Leo is still in the back of my mind, and I don’t know what to do.”
Sarah’s quiet on the other end.
“We had a great day on Sunday.”
“Wait, you and Nick or you and Leo? ”
“Me and Leo. We had a great day hanging out, just being us. Kept it strictly platonic as we discussed, and it felt normal… It was great. But I brought up something about his family earlier in the day, and he completely shut down, almost got a little defensive, which is something I’ve never experienced with him. I just wish he would tell me about it, so I could understand.”
“Because you think if he told you about it, that would make him want to be with you?” she asks doubtfully.
“Well, when you put it that way it sounds stupid and naive, but yeah, I guess that’s what I hope for.”
Sarah sighs. “Ah, God. I’m sorry that you are dealing with this. I know it’s hard, especially since you’ve been seeking this kind of connection for so long. It’s not stupid; it’s totally normal to have those hopes.”
“But…” I say. I know how this goes: listen, validate, then give the blunt honest truth.
“But if Leo is dealing with some sort of say, ‘childhood trauma’, which we don’t know if he is, that could look like so many things. I’d really focus on this Nick guy and dating other people. Try to make some other connections. You can stay friends with Leo, and if he ever changes his mind and wants more, then maybe you can explore something beyond being friends. But if being just friends with Leo is too hard or makes it difficult for you to explore other possible relationships, if it were me, I’d put some space in the friendship for a while. I know you don’t want to take a step back, but you could always give it a try, see how it goes.”
It’s my turn to be quiet now. “What if I can’t do that?”
“I think that you can; you just don’t want to, and that’s okay. That’s your decision to make.”
I let out a sigh of frustration. “I just don’t understand how someone with his kind of knowledge and career can be emotionally unavailable and fucked up.”
“Unfortunately, trauma doesn’t skip those with psychology degrees, especially if something happened as a child. ”
“Right. But then to go on and get a PhD in psychology? Why wouldn’t he deal with it then? It makes no sense to me… I mean, he won’t even talk about it,” I say, baffled.
“Honestly, it’d be hard to become a therapist and not deal with your past shit. But that being said, there are many reasons people choose not to deal with trauma—psychologists included.”
“Why would he choose that?”
“For so many reasons: control—something he can choose and be in charge of, avoiding reopening old wounds, a protective mechanism to stay guarded, emotional detachment—focusing on others’ problems to avoid his own—and fear. Leo’s fully aware of why he is the way he is. In my opinion, he’s chosen this lifestyle because it protects him—it’s a coping mechanism, and that’s normal, even if it’s not always healthy. I don’t know if he’ll change, but it has to be his choice. You can’t make him. He’s been this way for a long time, and with all his education and experience, it’s definitely purposeful. Just be careful, babe, and I’m really sorry you’re going through this.”
“Well, shit. This sucks. You know, he once told me that all the women he had ever loved had either died, left him, or cheated… except that he loves Meredith, and she’s still around.”
“God, that’s sad,” she says. “I doubt that’s completely accurate, but there’s got to be some truth to it for him to say that. But remember, we are speculating here; there might not be anything going on with Leo. He may just be the way he is because he chooses it. What do you think you’re going to do?”
“I don’t know. I have to sit on this.”
“Yeah, it’s a tough call.”
“Alright, enough about me. Thanks for listening and giving me sound advice. Tell me everything that’s going on with you, and let’s talk about plans for when I’m there.”
Sarah catches me up on things with her and Ryan, and we shoot some ideas around for when I come to visit, making me all the more excited to go home.
* * * * * * * * * *
I can’t breathe.
My eyes fly open, and I gasp for air, sweat clinging to my skin. Fuck . Not again. I haven’t had one of these nightmares since I moved. I deliberately take deep breaths to slow my racing heart. Squeezing my eyes tight, I try to think of anything but the car accident. I think of Leo. Since meeting him, I’ve felt lighter—he’s helped ease the constant weight I carry. I know that when I’m stressed my nightmares surface. And with all these decisions looming and second-guessing every choice I make, my anxiety is creeping back in.
I get out of bed and pace around the house, trying to shake off the tension. After an hour of aimless wandering, I end up in my office. I might as well work if I’m going to be awake anyway. I sit down and focus on the Johnsons’ blueprints—a new client I picked up about a month ago. They’re building a large home in the northern suburbs of Chicago. I work until my eyes start to close, then drag myself back to bed, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.