Chapter Three
Vanessa
Can’t Catch Me Now
Olivia Rodrigo
The key turns smoothly in the lock. I push the door open with my shoulder, the soft glow of the entry light spilling across the floor as I step inside.
“Hi, Vin.”
He’s there before I even finish closing the door. A blur of gray and white, weaving between my ankles with an impatient meow that sounds more like a demand than a greeting.
“I know, I know.” I nudge the door shut behind me and drop my bag onto the small table by the wall. “I’m sure you’ve had a very hard day.”
Another meow. Louder this time. Whether he’s agreeing or arguing I have no clue. I slip off my heels, letting them land where they fall instead of placing them where they probably should go. One tilts sideways against the baseboard. The other ends up halfway toward the living room.
Vincent doesn’t care. He’s too busy winding around my legs like I’ve been gone for weeks instead of a few hours. I bend, scratching behind his ear, careful of the notched edge that gave him his name in the first place.
“There you go,” I murmur, softer now. He leans into it like he always does. Unapologetic, like he’s owed this after I deserted him all day. The apartment feels exactly like it should. Warm and lived in.
The faint scent of something floral lingers in the air, mixed with the cleaner notes of whatever candle I burned last night. Books rest in small, uneven stacks across the coffee table. A blanket is draped over the arm of the couch, not quite folded, not quite messy.
I move through it without thinking, clicking on a lamp instead of the overhead lights. The room settles into a softer glow immediately. Much better. I pad into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of wine from the rack without looking at the label. It’s a red from a case I bought a while ago.
I snag a glass from the cupboard, and after pulling the cork, fill it up. I don’t measure, and I don’t think about it. Vinny hops onto the counter the second I turn my back.
I wag a finger at him as I sip on the wine. “Absolutely not.”
He blinks at me slow and unbothered. Then stays exactly where he is. I exhale a quiet laugh, shaking my head as I nudge him gently off with the side of my hand. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
He lands lightly and flicks his tail like he knows it. He probably does. I take the wine with me as I move into the living room, curling into the corner of the couch without bothering to change. The fabric of my dress shifts against my skin, still holding the faint echo of the night.
The music. The low lighting. The quiet intensity of the space.
I take another sip. Feel the heat of it settle in my stomach.
For a while, I don’t think about it. At least, not consciously.
I let the room ground me instead. The soft hum of the city outside.
The familiar weight of the space around me.
Vinny jumps up beside me, circling twice before settling into the curve of my hip like he’s always belonged there. Because he has. It isn’t until I set the glass down that it comes back.
Not all at once. Just a little bit. A quiet, almost imperceptible pull beneath everything else. His face. His lack of expression. My eyes close for a second. Just for a second. Not long enough to linger. Not long enough to lose control of it.
It’s been ten years and I still would have known him anywhere. The hallway had felt smaller than it actually was. Or maybe it was just the way everything else fell away the second I saw him. The space. The noise. The man beside me. All gone. It was just Hayden. And me.
I open my eyes again, gaze settling somewhere unfocused across the room. He looked the same. Well, not exactly. Time doesn’t leave people untouched. He was broader than I remembered. And he had short, trimmed stubble now.
But the parts that mattered? Unchanged. Still watching like he sees everything. Still holding himself like the world only moves because he allows it to. With those eyes that always saw more than they should.
A small breath leaves me before I can stop it. He didn’t say anything. Neither did I. There hadn’t been space for it. And even if there had been, I’m not sure I would have taken it. But for one second, I saw him react. I had an effect on him. And of all the places to see him. I chuff quietly.
Vinny shifts against me, pressing closer, grounding in the way only something uncomplicated can be. I reach for him without thinking, fingers sliding through his fur in slow, absent strokes. “There you go,” I murmur, though I’m not entirely sure if I’m talking to him or myself.
I could look him up. The thought comes easily.
Too easily. It would take less than a minute.
His name. A search. Information filling in all the blanks the night left behind.
I knew he still played bass for Devil’s Halo.
Knew they had become extremely successful.
I might be able to find out where he lives. Obviously in Chicago somewhere.
But I don’t move. Because I don’t need to. The corner of my mouth lifts slightly, not quite a smile. Not quite anything at all. Because some things, some people, just don’t change. I lean back into the couch, letting my head rest against the cushion as I stare up at the ceiling.
The quiet stretches out comfortable and familiar. But underneath it, something shifts.
Not sharp or overwhelming. Just, present.
My fingers still against Vinny’s back. My glass remains untouched on the table.
The night settles in around me like it always does.
And somewhere in the city, I know he’s doing the exact opposite of what I am right now.
Trying to figure it out. I close my eyes again.
This time, I let them stay that way a little longer.
“Of course it had to be there,” I murmur softly into the quiet.
Vinny flicks his tail. Unimpressed.
And for now, I let it go.