Chapter 34
Ani
After the most epic cry and a day full of chocolate and romance movies, during which she threw popcorn at the screen when the couples got their happily ever afters, she decided to pretend she was all right. This had always worked out for her before, so she was doing it again.
Two days later, sporting dark bags under her eyes from spending her nights tossing and turning, she was sitting at a divey café on Polk Street.
It wasn’t her usual spot, because she hoped she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew.
She had work to do, and wanted to get out of the house, but she didn’t want to speak to a single soul except the person behind the counter.
There was a hollowness about her; she knew why it was there but there was nothing she could do about it.
Ani stared at the inbox on her tablet, and her eyes went fuzzy. The burst of emails should have excited her, but since the realization that Raffi had shut her out, she couldn’t find it within herself to feel joy in her work. Come on, Ani, you can do this, she told herself and opened an email.
It was from a couple wanting to plan their big bash at ?.
Of course they did, because that was where Grace Zhang tied the knot.
She scanned several more emails, and half of them wanted to hire her and have their wedding at Raffi’s winery.
She hadn’t thought about this. Would she simply have to decline those weddings?
Or have Sanan go to all in-person meetings at the winery so she didn’t have to?
A strong wave of nausea passed over her, thinking about how to navigate this. She felt almost dizzy, then realized no, that buzzing was from her phone.
Ani pulled it out, and there, before her, was an actual bona fide text from Raffi.
Holy shit.
She didn’t know if the text would be good or bad. An essay of anger or apology or a “don’t contact me,” but she had to know. Even if it was horrible news, she had to read it.
It said: Ani. Call me? Please.
Please. Please was good. Call me was good. Very good! He wanted to talk.
Ani quickly stood, stuffing her tablet into her bag and leaving her latte on the table, and dialed as she stepped out of the café and onto bustling Polk Street. Raffi picked up on the first ring.
“Ani,” he said, and his voice sounded like a salvation.
That was all she needed, one word, and she melted, remembering everything—the way he held her hand to his heart, his kisses, the way he told her over and over that she was worthy.
“Raffi, oh my God. I thought you’d blocked me. I tried calling—”
“You tried calling?” He sounded shocked with a mix of anger. Not toward her, she sensed, but perhaps toward himself. “No, no, I didn’t block you. I didn’t get any of your calls. Shit. I had no idea you were trying to contact me.”
Relief hit her. He hadn’t blocked her; he didn’t even know she’d tried to call. But then…
“Why wouldn’t they go through?”
His voice was quick, desperate. “I’ll explain. What are you up to right now? Do you want to—can you meet me?”
“Yes!” she nearly shouted. “I’ll be wherever you want. I’m near my place. Where are you?”
A couple of people walking by turned toward her as she spoke. But it didn’t matter. Her heart was pounding, and she felt her blood rushing through her body, felt truly alive for the first time since the wedding.
“Fuck. Still in Napa. Should’ve flown into SFO. I’ll drive to you. Be there soon as I can.”
It would still be a whole hour if he sped like a bat out of hell. Too long. “I can’t wait,” she said. “I’m coming to you. Let’s meet in the middle.”
“Which way are you taking?”
“Golden Gate, up through the North Bay.”
“Okay. Marin Headlands. Meet me there.”
That was definitely a farther drive for him than for her, unless she ran into traffic, which was probable.
“That’s not halfway. I’ll be in Larkspur before you even get to Sonoma.”
She heard a car door slam. “We’ll see about that,” he said.
“Raffi,” she warned. “Drive safe. I want to see you. Alive.”
He grunted, then said, “All right. For you.”
She smiled, thinking his old car probably wasn’t equipped to handle high speeds for extended periods and thanked the stars he wasn’t a Ferrari guy.
“I’m going to see you soon,” she said, almost to herself.
“You sure are,” he replied, and she could hear him smiling.
When she hung up, the noise of the street rushed back in her ears, like it had paused the entire time she was talking to Raffi.
Ani ran the five blocks home in the warm September air.
Early fall was in some ways the most marvelous time of year in San Francisco.
The fog had receded, and with it the cold, so everyone was outside, enjoying the weather in shorts and bare shoulders.
Ani thanked herself for wearing flats as she sprinted down Polk Street and hopped into her car.
She was going to see Raffi. He wanted to see her. He sounded so happy on the phone, about the fact that they would be reunited. She let herself hope and hope and hope.