Chapter 47 Giovanna
Giovanna
Christmas Day in the city feels quieter than I expected.
Snow and ice have started to crust the edges of Bleeker Street, muffling the usual noise, and I sit cross-legged on my couch with a blanket wrapped around me.
The apartment is dark except for the glow of my laptop and the Christmas lights on the tree that reflect off the open bottle of wine on the coffee table beside me.
It’s cozy, quiet. Peaceful. So much better than the childhood worth of Christmases I spent when my parents would go on separate vacations and leave me with staff.
It’s the first Christmas I’ve chosen to spend in the city, away from Long Island.
It’s also the first Christmas without Tommy, and I couldn’t risk going back home and running into him.
The last time I saw him was here in my apartment, my blood dripping from his knife.
He didn’t speak to me when he left, and I haven’t heard from him or seen him since.
I still have the sheets stained with my blood folded in the back of the closet, though I don’t use them.
I don’t need to. The scar on my inner thigh is enough, a secret pressed into me, keeping him close even as I work hard to pretend that he is a part of my past.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, and for some reason, though I haven’t heard from him in months, my heart leaps.
Is it Tommy? It is Christmas, after all.
Maybe—
But it’s not Tommy. It’s a text from someone almost as shocking: Antonio.
Hungry?
Along with the text is a blurry picture of him laughing and barely holding the camera while juggling a bag of Chinese food and a tray with two coffee cups.
Oh, my God. Antonio is here? On Christmas day?
He and I exchanged a few text messages here and there since I saw him at my graduation party, but we were never able to find time to go out during the day.
So this is…unexpected. To say the least.
I consider pretending I’m not home, but he must know that I didn’t go back to Long Island for the holiday and figured out I was here.
Where else would I be on Christmas Day? And why would I lie to him, anyway?
He’s harmless.
No pressure, but the food is getting cold…
He follows up with a few laughing emojis and cold emojis, so I pull the blanket tighter around me and shuffle to the door.
The stoop is slick with frost when I step outside.
Antonio is leaning against the railing, balancing the food and coffees in one hand with his phone in the other.
His grin is immediate, and I’m suddenly grateful for the familiarity.
“Merry Christmas, Gigi,” he says, holding out one of the cups, steam curling into the air.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I murmur, taking it from him, the heat taking the edge off the cold wind.
He shrugs. “Didn’t want you spending Christmas alone.
” He glances up toward my apartment. “Is it okay that I’m here?
I mean, it is during the day.”
I laugh and sip my coffee, nodding.
I was adamant about not going out with him at night to make sure he never thought we were on a date, but I guess the only day of the year we’re both free is on Christmas Day.
“You’re fine. Thank you, Antonio. Seriously.
It’s good to see a friendly face.” I emphasize the ‘friend’ in friendly.
He tilts his lopsided grin at me. “Kind of cold out here. Invite me up before I turn into a snowman?”
I should say no.
I know I should. It’s not that I have an allegiance to Tommy, but my heart is not my own, and it doesn’t seem fair to Antonio on the off chance that he’s here for some reason other than friendship.
But it’s Christmas and my apartment is empty, plus the smell of sesame chicken is wafting out of the bag, so I nod.
“Fine. But only because you brought me food,” I laugh.
Inside, I flick on the kitchen light and pull back a stool at the counter rather than sit down at the table with him.
Antonio sets out the cartons like he’s been here a hundred times, and I find myself drawn in by his easiness.
At the same time, I notice the similarities between him and Tommy: the way he leans one hip against the counter, the dark hair that falls over one eye, the dark eyes.
That’s the problem with Antonio.
He looks enough like Tommy to be intriguing and familiar, but he’s not him.
He lacks the intensity of Tommy when he looks at me, that force field that pulls me toward him, that feeling of completeness I get when Tommy touches me.
We sit at the counter chatting about our lives, catching up on details, on milestones, on what people we know have been up to.
At some point, we move to the living room where I curl up under a blanket on the couch with a glass of wine and he sits on one of the chairs after he lights a fire in the fireplace.
When we come to a pause in the conversation, he watches me for a moment, and I get nervous.
Is this where he tries to make a move, turn this into something else?
“So how are things between you and Tommy?”
I half choke on my wine, surprised by the turn in conversation.
Definitely not what I was expecting.
“There is no ‘me and Tommy,’” I say, pouring more wine in my glass.
“You guys don’t talk at all?” he asks, settling back in his seat.
I shake my head. “No. I’ve seen him in the news on occasion, usually standing by Councilman Donovan, but other than that, I know nothing.
”
Antonio nods. “He seems to be doing pretty well. He’s running Donovan’s campaign for assemblyman now.
He started a PhD in Public Policy.
Everyone says he’s being groomed to take Donovan’s place on the council, but Donovan wants him to stick around for a while.
He’s doing a good job. Still hates me, but I guess I can’t fault him for that.
”
I furrow my brow as Antonio laughs. “You can’t?
You never did anything wrong, Antonio. You didn’t deserve the way he treated you.
You didn’t deserve how I treated you,” I say, ducking my head in embarrassment.
It’s hard to hear that Tommy is thriving without me, but I’m proud of him.
He’s come so far since we first got together in terms of his ability to navigate relationships with other people.
There’s nothing he can’t do.
“Hey, Gigi.” He waits for me to look up at him, and when I do, I gulp my wine at the same time.
He smiles softly. “That was a long time ago. I don’t hold it against you.
”
“I would. It was a fucking terrible thing to do, and you didn’t deserve it.
”
He nods slowly. “Okay, I’ll give you that.
But a lot of time has passed. We’re not kids anymore.
Even Tommy has moved on, and he never moves on from anything.
”
I look at him sharply. “What do you mean?” I have a feeling I don’t want to know, but I can’t not know either.
“He’s got a girlfriend, I think. She’s a really fun person, nice, smart.
I actually brought her to the New Year’s Eve party a few years back; we dated for a while.
That Irish girl with the blonde hair, do you remember?
”
I shake my head ‘no,’ bile rising in my throat.
Tommy has a girlfriend? The idea of him kissing her, touching her, sleeping next to her—or inside her—sends a cold shudder through my body.
“Well, they’re together all the time, she calls him a lot.
I mean, it’s not like he tells me details about his personal life, but she brought him a suit one day, she’s always with him.
Just seems like a strong relationship. You’ll probably see her with him at the New Year’s Eve party next week.
”
Fuck, the New Year’s Eve party. I had absolutely zero intention of going this year until Antonio told me about Tommy’s girlfriend.
As much as the idea of him with someone else crushes my soul, I have to see her, see them together, see for myself if he’s forgotten about me that easily.
I nod and force a smile. Antonio is watching me closely, and I give him my best fake laugh.
“Don’t look at me like that! It’s fine. I’m glad he’s happy.
” The orchid scar on my inner thigh burns.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
I’m still thinking about Tommy, grieving Tommy, and I answer too quickly.
“No.”
If I had taken time to think it through, I would have said ‘yes’ in order to avoid the question that follows quickly on its heels.
“Good. Because I was going to ask you something,” he says, his voice softening.
I meet his eyes in dread. “What?”
“Come with me to the New Year’s Eve party this year.
” He clears his throat. “As my date.”
The word ‘date’ lands like a rock between us, and I just stare at him for a moment.
I shake my head, opening my mouth to refuse, but he leans forward, elbows on his knees, suddenly serious.
“Look, Gigi. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong.
This isn’t about getting revenge on Tommy, not for what happened with you or for going out with my ex.
She was nothing to me, a stand-in for who I really wanted.
” His gaze lingers heavily on me, the implication clear.
He wanted me then, but does he still want me now?
Because even though I know I won’t be sneaking off with Tommy to fuck in the bathroom this time, my heart is still 100 percent taken.
“Think of it as a way to right old wrongs. We get a do-over. You and I go out on a real date on New Year’s Eve like we did all those years ago and start over from where it went wrong.
If you play your cards right, I might even let you kiss me at midnight.
”
He holds his hands up, his eyebrows raised in mock seriousness.
“I said ‘might.’ Don’t get your hopes up.
”
I laugh and take a sip of my wine.
“So you’ll go with me?
”
I hesitate. Going to this party alone now that I know that Tommy will be with a date and my father will be watching me like a hawk sounds vulnerable.
With Antonio at my side, I’ll have armor, a shield, even if it’s just borrowed for the night.
I nod. “Yes.”
His grin explodes across his face, and that lock of hair falls over one eye.
“Fuck yes! Fucking awesome. Okay, so tell me what you’re wearing so I can match you.
”
I wince, the memory of Tommy losing the tie that matched mine the night we broke up popping up unbidden.
I force a smile and another fake laugh. “I don’t know what I’m wearing yet.
Just wear something neutral. It’ll be fine.
”
He nods and does a spontaneous spin in the living room as I watch him.
My feelings must be evident on my face despite my attempt to cover, because he stops celebrating and crouches down in front of where I’m sitting on the couch.
“Hey. We’ll have fun, Gigi. No pressure.
We’ll hit the party, make an appearance and stay till midnight, and if you want to leave after that, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, okay?
”
I nod as he smiles at me then pats my leg.
For a second, I almost believe he could be a Tommy placebo.
Not the real thing, of course, no one could ever be like Tommy, but real enough to get me through New Year’s Eve, through confirming that Tommy has moved on, without shattering.