Chapter 6
VANESSA
Five months ago
“Where are we going?” I ask after we’ve already walked a few blocks in comfortable silence.
It’s late, but New York City is still alive. It’s always alive. It’s one of my favorite parts about coming here. I love how the day never seems to end, even when it turns to night. It feels like you’re invincible and have all the time in the world.
I haven’t felt like that since the last time I was here. It was a few weeks before the wedding. Neal and I decided to get away for the weekend, a break from all the chaos of planning our perfect day, just us. It was magical—everything I could have wanted. Maybe even the last time I was truly happy.
But I don’t want to think about my ex-husband right now.
I want to enjoy this moment, revel in this beautiful April night, the cool breeze on my skin, and the sounds of people laughing bouncing off the buildings.
I want to enjoy this time with Gavin while I still have it.
Even though this is The City That Never Sleeps, tomorrow still comes, and tomorrow is when I go back to being my old self again.
No more fake names to hide behind. No more half-truths.
No more pretending my life isn’t falling apart.
“Wherever you want.” His voice is smooth like a glass of whiskey after dessert. The kind that sits on the shelf and lasts for years and years because you save it for special occasions. His touch on my lower back is just as delicious. Soft. Hot.
I wish I could say it’s the alcohol making me feel this way, but I know it’s not.
It is the cologne that smells so familiar yet so distinct.
It’s how the top of my head only comes to his shoulder.
And it’s how he drags me closer each time somebody walks by us, like he’s trying to keep me close and keep me safe.
Safe. I can’t remember the last time someone made me feel that way.
I never felt un safe with Neal, but I guess I never really felt relaxed either. I was always on . Smiling at his company parties. Planning lunches and dinners with friends. Making sure everything was Instagram-worthy perfect, just like I always wanted my life to be.
So much for that.
“Are you okay?” Gavin asks, snapping me out of my awful thoughts.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I felt you tense up a bit. Everything okay?”
I nod, but it slowly transforms into a headshake. Suddenly, my eyes feel heavy, and there’s a burning sensation in my nose. My throat tightens as if I’ve been chugging sand. I’m going to cry. I hate crying, and I really hate crying in front of other people.
That doesn’t stop the tears from coming anyway, and once they start, it feels impossible to stop.
Gavin notices, and then we’re not walking anymore.
No, I’m pressed against something hard and warm that smells like a bakery you walk by on a quiet street, especially in the fall when everything feels cozy and the air has that perpetual scent of cinnamon.
Strong arms encircle and hold me tightly as I bury my face against Gavin’s chest. This stranger’s chest.
Oh god, what is wrong with me? Why am I a total mess? How am I unable to take a simple walk with possibly the hottest man I’ve ever seen? Why do I feel so damn broken?
Gavin’s chin rests atop my head as his hands draw small circles on my back. It’s a good hug. A comforting hug. I think the last time I had a hug like this was… Actually, I’m not sure if I’ve ever had one. I like it far too much, but that’s a bag to unpack another night.
Tonight, I just want to enjoy it.
The tears keep coming as so many thoughts run through my mind.
Memories of meeting Neal in the city my freshman year of college.
Us falling in what I thought was true love.
The picnics he would spontaneously take me on and the extravagant trips that allowed me to see the world.
Our home upstate where I thought we’d build a family.
The home I thought we’d build a future in.
The home that’s no longer a home at all.
I press my nose more firmly against Gavin’s chest, letting myself get lost in him.
Lost in something unfamiliar. Something that doesn’t hurt.
When I think I’ve finally cried all the tears I could possibly cry, I pull away, grimacing at the wet spot I’ve left on his nice dress shirt.
There’s even a bit of black from my mascara.
I knew I should’ve worn the waterproof one tonight, but I promised myself no crying.
Guess I broke that rule.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him as I wipe the wetness from under my eyes.
“I swear I’m not usually such an emotional mess.
It’s just this divorce is hard, you know?
Well, no, I guess you don’t know. But it is.
It’s so hard, and I’m so tired of being heartbroken.
I’m tired of being looked at with pity because my marriage didn’t work out.
I’m sick of being sad, but when I try to be happy, nothing feels right, not even my old hobbies.
I used to love to paint. It was my outlet.
It made me so damn happy that I was planning on transferring to art school when I realized I hated what I was studying.
I wanted to open my own studio one day, but Neal told me not to, told me to keep to the path I was on because it was more stable.
So that’s what I did, and now I’m not even sure if I can paint anymore.
Do I even remember how? I picked up a paintbrush a month ago, thinking I could give it a try, and nothing happened.
I just stared at a blank canvas. And stared some more.
Then some more and…it’s still blank. That’s how I feel.
Blank. Like nothing. Like just…just…a failure. I feel like a failure.”
The words tumble out of me, and I don’t even realize what I’m saying or how true it is until I’m done. That’s the worst part of this all, how big of a disappointment I feel like. Who gets married and divorced so quickly? Not people like me, that’s for sure. It just all feels so…sad. And I hate it.
I gulp in breath after breath, trying to calm my hammering heart, but it feels pointless. Ugh. I can’t believe I just dumped all that on him and cried on his shirt. I’m more of a mess than I realized.
There’s a soft touch under my chin, and Gavin pulls my gaze to his. I expect to see a whole lot of embarrassment and pity in his eyes, but there is none—only understanding. It makes me want to start crying all over again.
“You are not a failure,” he says gently and slowly, like he’s trying to make sure I hear and understand every word.
“How do you know?”
“You’re right. I guess I don’t actually know, but I can tell just like I can tell you’re going to be okay.
This won’t be the defining factor in your life forever.
One day, you’ll look back at all of it and laugh.
You’ll wake up and wonder why you spent so much time crying over someone who doesn’t deserve your tears.
You’ll dust yourself off, get back out there, and find that love again.
It probably doesn’t feel like it now, but you will.
” He lifts my chin higher. “And what did I say about explaining yourself? You don’t need to.
Don’t need to apologize. Besides, I have three sisters, so I think I can handle a few girl tears. ”
His words are sweet. Touching, even though I’m not quite sure he’s right. It certainly doesn’t feel like he is. I don’t think I’ll ever get over this.
“Three sisters?” I say, trying to change the subject. “Are you the only boy?”
He laughs lightly, dropping my chin. “Not by a long shot. I have three brothers as well. My parents didn’t really know when to quit until they did, you know? My siblings took after them, giving me a horde of nieces and nephews to spoil over the years.”
“I can’t imagine having six siblings. I only have the one and, well, I’m pretty sure most days he hates me.”
“If he hates you, it’s his problem, not yours.
And in my humble opinion, it would be a huge mistake on his part not to want to know you.
” He bends ever so slightly and I can see the swirls of green and brown in his eyes under the hazy yellow streetlights.
“Because I think knowing you could be a great adventure, love.”
Each word sends a shiver down my spine, and if his twitching lips are any indication, Gavin doesn’t miss it.
I’m about to tell him I want to know him too, when suddenly, I’m struck from behind.
My heel gets stuck on a crack in the sidewalk, and I plummet to the ground.
Gavin reaches for me—because of course he does—but he’s not quick enough, and I feel my knee scrape against the concrete.
I know before even having to look that I’m bleeding.
“Hey, what the fuck?!” Gavin yells at whoever just went zooming by.
I glance up just in time to see somebody on a skateboard fly around the corner, nearly knocking somebody else over in the process, their middle finger extended high above their head.
“Fucking prick,” my savior says, pulling me to my feet. He brushes my hair back, cupping my cheeks in his big hands. His eyes bounce all over my face like he’s checking me for damage. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Just my ego.” I wince as I try to take a step. “And maybe my knee.”
Against my better judgment, I glance down…and nearly go tumbling to the sidewalk again.
“Fuck,” Gavin mutters as he catches me once more, this time before I hit the ground. “Nessa?”
Nessa. I grin at the name I gave him, that woozy feeling I always get whenever I see blood falling over me like a blanket. He gathers me into his arms, holding me tightly as I work to regain basic control of my body.
“Nessa? Nessa?” He holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking down into my eyes.