Chapter 16
LEO
Sunday, December 3
I jolt awake to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand. Groggily, I reach for it and squint at the screen. A message from Vivian. It’s 1:23 AM.
“What the hell?” I mutter, rubbing my eyes.
Vivian: Hey, are you asleep?
What do you think, Viv?
I consider putting my phone down, but it’s not like her to text in the middle of the night.
Leo: I was… I’m not anymore, what’s up?
Vivian: Sorry for waking you.
Vivian: I just need a distraction for a bit.
Leo: Everything okay?
Vivian: Yeah. Well, I will be… I had another nightmare. Third one this week. This one’s hitting me hard, can’t calm down… Must be stress.
Shit.
Vivian mentioned a few days ago that she has recurring nightmares. She said it had been a while since she’d had one, but they started again earlier this week, the first since she moved.
Leo: What do you need?
Vivian: Can I come over for a bit? Need to get my mind off things.
I feel a stir next to me and glance over to see Ashley looking at me.
“What are you doing?” she asks, half asleep.
“Sorry, love. A friend needs me. Are you okay if I sneak out? You can stay and sleep; I’ll be back soon.”
She nods and turns over.
Damn, I forgot Ashley was here. We’ve hooked up a few times over the past few years, running into each other at various events. She’s a cool chick, looking for the same no-strings-attached arrangement as me. I trust her enough to leave her alone here for a bit.
I quickly text Vivian back before she decides to head over… that could get awkward.
Leo: I’ll come to you. Be there in five, just need to throw some clothes on.
I add a winky face emoji.
Vivian: Thanks, just let yourself in.
I have Vivian’s door code for the keypad lock, and she has mine. Quickly, I throw on some joggers and a fitted long-sleeve athletic shirt before heading downstairs.
I let myself into Vivian’s place. The main floor is dark, so I head upstairs toward her bedroom on the fourth floor, where light spills into the hallway.
Her lamp casts a soft glow around the room. Vivian is sitting up, resting against a pile of pillows, knees pulled tightly to her chest. She stares blankly at the wall, her face a mask of emptiness, save for the tear stains that show she’s been crying.
When she turns to look at me and offers a weak smile, I’m immediately by her side. Climbing into bed next to her, I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her in a bear hug and drawing her near.
“Do you want to talk about it? What do you need from me?” I hold her close and stroke her hair as she rests her head on my shoulder.
“I don’t know.” She sits up and looks at me. “Can you just stay with me for a bit? Be a distraction?”
God , I can think of a million distractions I’d love to give Vivian right now, but those are off the table. “Of course. I’ll stay with you for a bit. ”
“We can put pillows between us if we have to.” She pulls one of the pillows from behind her to create some space between us.
I grab the pillow midair and return it back behind her. “There’s no need for that. Given the circumstances, we can blur the lines for one night. I’m here to comfort you, and that’s what I intend to do.”
“Really?” She says doubtfully, leaning back against the pillows. “I expected you to be a bit more of a pussy… you’re normally such a rule follower.” She looks up and smirks.
There she is.
She’s just fuckin’ with me, trying to laugh and take her mind off things.
My eyes widen in shock. “A pussy? Really, Viv?”
She lets out a soft laugh, and I’m overcome with the need to make her feel better. She needs me right now, so I push aside the fact that she looks sexy as hell in her tight little pajama top that’s low-cut, her nipples faintly visible, and matching shorts that are so short her ass cheeks are practically hanging out. For the first time, I notice a larger floral hip tattoo peeking out from the side of her shorts. I want to see all of it, but right now, I have to be the friend she needs.
I relax, keeping one arm wrapped around her shoulder. “Talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
She sits up to face me, crosses her legs and pulls a blanket into her lap, aware that her shorts would give me a full view if she didn’t cover up. “Where did you end up going tonight?” she asks casually, picking at a fuzzy on the blanket.
“Meredith and Piper dragged me to a cocktail lounge for Piper’s employee’s birthday.”
“And? Did you enjoy yourself?” She makes eye contact and forces a smile.
“I did. You know Mer and Piper, it’s hard not to have fun with them. The birthday boy, Johnny, is the manager at the bar Piper owns. He practically runs the place. He does his job well and helps Piper out a lot. He’s a good friend of hers. ”
“Well, that’s great. I’m glad you had fun.” She hesitates. “I’m surprised you weren’t occupied when I texted you.”
Ah, fuck. Now I feel obligated to tell her about Ashley, at home, warming my bed. “Actually… I do have company. She’s at my house… in my bed.”
She flinches. “You left a random person in your house to come over here?” she asks with concern.
“No,” I say gently, “I do know her a bit. We’ve hooked up a few times before.”
“I thought you didn’t do revisits.” Her voice is somewhat clipped.
“It’s definitely not the norm. There have been a few women I’ve hooked up with multiple times, but not close together. I’ve maybe bumped into them months later, and we have another go at it. Ashley is Johnny’s friend; we’ve occasionally been at the same functions, and then one thing leads to another…” I stop talking when I see the hurt in her eyes. “Let’s not talk about my sex life. Didn’t you have another date with what’s-his-name tonight?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“Don’t be like that,” she says so softly I can barely hear her. “You know his name is Nick.”
I take a breath, knowing she’s in an emotional state. “Sorry… How was your date with Nick?”
“It was good.” She sighs and lays a pillow flat, lying on her side to face me, pushing her boobs together.
I follow suit, placing a pillow flat and resting my head on it to face her, willing myself to keep my gaze on her face, and not on her incredible tits that are inches away.
“Let’s not talk about this… can we just be Leo and Viv right now?” she asks, her eyes focused on mine like laser beams.
I chuckle. “Do you want to fill me in on what that means?”
She lets out a sigh and laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Just talk to me,” she whispers.
“Okay…” I think of what I can say to lighten her mood.
“You know that first day I saw you… when you were running by my house?” I ask .
“When you were half naked, standing by the door?” She grins. “How could I forget?”
“Do you want to know what I thought when I caught you checking me out?” I ask teasingly, and that does it.
She laughs—the most beautiful, genuine laugh—followed by her gorgeous smile that I love, as she playfully pushes my shoulder. “I don’t quite remember it like that, but I’ll bite. What did you think?” she asks, still smiling.
“I thought… that is the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.”
She scoffs in disbelief. “Okay,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“And…” I continue, “I told myself, I have to get to know her . Because there was something special about you. You weren’t just some ordinary hot girl. There was something about you that drew me in, and now, after months of getting to know you, I finally understand why.”
I let the silence hang in the air.
“Well, don’t keep me hanging… Why?” she nudges me on.
My eyes wander across her face, tracing every beautiful detail, until they lock onto her sparkling green eyes. There’s an intensity in her gaze that captivates me. “Because you are the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” I say, my voice sincere and unwavering.
Her eyes fill with moisture, and she blinks rapidly. She tries to turn onto her back to stare at the ceiling, hiding her tears, but I reach out, gently turning her face back towards me as a tear falls. I catch it with my thumb, brushing it away, feeling the softness of her skin.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” I say softly.
“Why are you so good to me?” she asks, her voice wavering.
“Because you deserve it.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
We lie there, staring at each other in comfortable silence. It’s a vulnerable position to be in with someone, but I’d never know that because with Vivian, this feels good. It feels right, being here with her. And yet, it terrifies the shit out of me .
“Why is it that every time I feel like I’m starting to heal and move forward, something happens to set me back? I haven’t had this nightmare since before I moved, and now it’s the third time this week.”
“Healing from grief and trauma doesn’t have an ending point, Viv. There’s no finish line. It’s a journey; you’re going to have growth and healing, setbacks, good days, and bad days.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “Don’t let this get you down. Stress and anxiety can bring on nightmares.” My hand moves down to her cheek, gently caressing it. “Why don’t you tell me about your nightmare?” I urge softly, lying close to her, our faces inches apart.
“It’s always the same,” she begins, her voice trembling. “A replay of that night. Sometimes the details change or things blur.” She furrows her brows, as if she is concentrating on recreating the scene for me. “But the ending is always the same. Me, calling Ben’s name as we get hit, the car spiraling out of control. I don’t remember what we hit or if we flipped or how many times… just a wave of dizziness and confusion.” She swallows hard, her voice barely a whisper. “And then it’s just me. It’s deathly quiet, except for this faint, piercing ringing in my ears. Then the sirens come, then the spiraling red lights. I struggle to breathe with the airbag crushing against me.” Tears stream down her face. “I look over at Ben, and…” Her voice cracks. “God, when I saw his face, Leo…” She clasps a hand over her mouth. “That image of him… lifeless, bloody… it’s seared into my mind.” She shuts her eyes, shaking her head. “It was awful.” She opens her eyes, and I find myself not wanting to blink, afraid my own tears will fall. “That’s the last way I saw him. My last image of Ben, the love of my life, is him, mutilated, bloody, and lifeless.” She cries out, “That’s when the anxiety kicks in, the panic, the struggle for breath, and then I look down at my stomach and I know I lost our baby too.” She looks at me, her eyes filled with anguish, and takes a few deep breaths. “God, I miss them!” She covers her face with both hands. “I miss them so much,” she cries, her body shaking violently.
Without thinking, I reach out and pull her into my arms, holding her tightly. “I’m so sorry, Viv,” I whisper into her hair, my voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, always. ”
She buries her face in my chest, her sobs muffled against me. I stroke her hair gently, trying to offer what little comfort I can. “Let it out,” I murmur. “I’ve got you.”
Her cries gradually subside, leaving us in a quiet, intimate embrace. I can feel her heartbeat against mine, her breath slowing as she calms down. Slowly, she lifts her head, her eyes searching mine. Then, with hesitant vulnerability, she leans in and presses her lips to mine—a brief, tender kiss, more of a thank you than anything else, and it ends almost as quickly as it began.
Holy shit.
“Can you just hold me and stay until I fall asleep?” she asks softly, her voice raw but steady.
“Of course.”
As she turns around, settling herself into the curve of my body, we find ourselves spooning. Normally, in an intimate position like this, I’d be turned on. But right now, all I feel is a fierce need to be here for her, to take away her pain.
I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as she nestles against me. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper.
* * * * * * * * * *
I make my way back to my housearound 5 AM. Ashley’s still sleeping, and I desperately want her to be gone. I turn on the cold water for the shower and immerse myself.
The icy sting hits me, but I need it. I need the numbness, the clarity it brings. The water cascades over me, washing away the remnants of the night, but not the weight of her pain. Vivian’s nightmares, the trauma and sadness in her eyes—it’s all etched into my mind, haunting me more than I’d care to admit.
Under the relentless cold water, I feel my composure cracking. My chest tightens, a lump forming in my throat.
Tears threaten, but I hold them back. The freezing water mingles with the emotion buried deep inside me, and I let out a shuddering breath.
I brace myself against the shower wall, taking deep breaths. My mum’s angry voice echoes in my mind, yelling at me for reasons I never understood. Lately, I’ve been wondering if there’s more to my mum treating me like shit than I’ve let myself admit. Fuck, that’s a mess I’ll have to untangle someday.
I’ve done the work—hell, I had to unpack loads of shit in grad school. I’ve forgiven my mum, processed the trauma, come to terms with it. But the scars? They’re still there.
The water keeps pouring over me, each drop a bitter reminder of my own loss and the pain I see in Vivian. I take another deep breath, exhaling slowly, finding a strange sense of release. It’s fleeting, but it’s enough. Enough to remind me why I keep my distance, why getting too close is dangerous. But also enough to show me that, despite everything, I care more than I should.
The water eventually feels tepid against my skin, and I step out, wiping my face, washing away any evidence of the few tears that I shed. I drag my hands through my hair, “Get it together,” I mutter to myself. I glance at a framed picture on the wall, a quote I came across during jiujitsu as a teenager: “The obstacle is the way.”—Marcus Aurelius. I repeat it silently, finding strength in the words, reminding myself that every challenge has made me who I am.