Chapter 31
VIVIAN
I feel Leo settle into a deep sleep after hours of watching me toss and turn. Turning to face him, I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. The way his hair falls messily over his forehead, his peaceful expression—it all makes my heart ache. My mind races to places I don’t want it to go, replaying the run-in encounter repeatedly. I think about everything we’ve shared over the past ten months, wondering where I miscalculated our relationship and Leo’s intentions.
This is my friend, Vivian, he said. What ? Where did I go wrong in thinking that we were so much more than that? I mean, I’m looking at him right now, in my bed. He’s been in my bed every night for months. We’ve got to be more than friends. I love him. I love him so damn much, and right now, I hate that I love him. But I’ve been so sure that he loves me too. He not only won’t say it, he won’t even admit we are more than friends.
Good God! Am I just a friend with benefits to him?
From the beginning, I promised myself I wouldn’t be the one to say “I love you” first. He has to cross that barrier and get there on his own. He’s the one who’s scared to love. He’s the one who said he was working on things, wanting to try this… whatever this is. I didn’t want Paris to be a one-time thing, but I was prepared for that to be the reality.
Am I crazy? Did I make this up?
No… he moved us forward. He wanted this.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, my mind racing and my body too wired for sleep. My fingers twist in the sheets, every muscle tense as I replay our encounters, especially those leading up to New Year’s Eve and our break in January. Every sign tells me that Leo loves me. I know in my gut he feels the same way, and it hurts that he won’t admit his feelings. I’m scared this is going nowhere. I’m not getting any younger, and at the end of the day, I want marriage and kids someday.
Ashley… fuck her. A gorgeous five-foot-ten blonde with long, thick hair and legs that go on for miles. She had at least two to three inches on me, even without the stilettos that made her look like a supermodel. Leo is tall, six-foot-two. With her heels, the gap was only a couple of inches.
God, she was a bitch!
I’m so annoyed that I’ve let some girl I don’t even know get under my skin, making me second guess myself and what I have with Leo.
Are all the girls Leo brings home like her? A pretty face with a shit personality? God, it makes me question so many things… about him, about me.
But Leo has a great personality, and I believe he is a good judge of character. He’s a solid, well-rounded human, aside from his many bedroom conquests, which are a result of his decision to stay single because of his fucked-up past. I can’t judge him for that.
I press the palms of my hands against my forehead, gripping my hair with my fingers. Agh! I can’t even judge this Ashley girl. Clearly, she was trying to get under my skin, but she’s under the Leo spell. And goddamn, I can’t blame her because I’m going insane from the very same man.
Giving up on sleep, I quietly slip downstairs to watch TV, hoping the mindless activity will help me relax and take my mind off things. Regardless, I have to talk to Leo tomorrow about the friend comment. I need to know what I am to him, that this is going somewhere. I can’t waste my time with someone who doesn’t want more. I want so much more, marriage, a family someday, and if Leo doesn’t want that, then I can’t be with him .
I really hope he does want that because I don’t want a life without Leo. I already lost Ben, and the thought of facing another heartbreak feels unbearable. And if it can’t be us, I think a part of me will die all over again.
* * * * * * * * * *
I think I slept from 2:30 to 4:00 on the couch. After waking to pee, I did some yoga on the rooftop, trying to stretch away the tension, but it didn’t help. I showered and got partially ready for the day.
It’s 5:30 now. Leo’s usually up by this time, but he fell asleep late too. Normally, I’d be up on the rooftop with my coffee, excited to sit with him as the sun rises. Instead, I sit at the dining room table, my leg bouncing, fingers tapping my Yeti mug, my stomach a nauseated mess. I stare out the window at the river. The morning sun has already risen and reflects off the water, creating a blinding effect that pours into my front window.
I take a sip of my coffee, hoping it will settle my nerves. What if he doesn’t want more? What if this is all we’ll ever be?
I hear Leo’s footsteps as they make their way down the two flights of stairs. My ears perk like a coyote on the prowl as he pads into the kitchen. The familiar jumbling and clanking of the espresso machine, the whistling of milk being steamed—all familiar noises of our morning routine.
I debate going into the kitchen or waiting for him here. Where do I want to have this conversation that I don’t want to have?
Finally, I muster the courage and head to the kitchen, my heart pounding in my chest. Leo is standing with his back to me as he prepares his coffee. The kitchen island stands between us, a barrier both physical and emotional.
“Hey,” I say, my voice monotone and barely above a whisper as I step into the room.
“Hey, babe, why aren’t you on the patio?” Leo kisses my cheek and settles into a stance across the kitchen island from me. “I was going to come join you up there.” He studies me for a moment. “Are you upset about something? ”
I sigh, resting my head in my hand, my elbow propped on the countertop.
“Come on then. Out with it.”
I force my head up, meeting his gaze even though it’s so damn tough right now.
“We need to talk about last night,” I say. “And before you say anything, can you please do me a favor and not play dumb? I know that you know why I’m upset, and it’s not because of that Ashley girl.” I give him a pointed look. “Even though she was a real bitch, by the way. Great job with that one,” I add snarkily.
He lets my comment hang in the air, the tension thick between us. Neither of us knowing how to start.
Finally, he breaks the silence.
“You want to discuss how I introduced you, yeah?” he asks.
I fold my arms across my chest, giving a slight nod, trying to steady myself.
“You introduced me as your friend.” I elevate my voice a notch. “Your fucking friend. What was that? Is that all I am to you? Just another one of your friends?”
“You want to define what we are… put a label on us?” he asks cautiously.
“God, could you not patronize me with your bullshit therapist questions? I can’t do that right now. I just need you to have a normal conversation with me, without the psychoanalysis. I need to know why you called me your friend. And I need to know what I am to you. Right now… just say it.” I let out an audible breath of annoyance.
“Okay.” He rakes a hand through his hair, his voice edged with frustration. “You want to know why I called you my friend? Because you are my goddamn friend. My best fucking friend, and we haven’t had a discussion about what we are.” He pauses, locking eyes with me. “Did you want me to introduce you as my girlfriend? Is that it? Well, we haven’t talked about that, Vivian. I’m not going to assume anything. Could you imagine if you thought of me as a friend with benefits and I introduced you as my girlfriend? That would put you in a really uncomfortable, awkward position.”
I sigh. “Okay…” I say slowly. “That’s fair.” It really is. I stand there, arms folded, as if they alone can protect my feelings. “Let’s have that conversation now, then.” I say calmly but with intensity.
“This isn’t exactly the tone I’d like for that conversation,” he says.
“What’s wrong with the tone? We’re just talking.”
“You’re upset, Vivian. Let’s talk about this when we’re both calmer.”
The way he keeps saying my full name irks me.
“I’m calm,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “I feel you’re trying to avoid this conversation.”
“Why would I be avoiding this conversation, Vivian?”
There it is again. Not Viv, not love, not babe. Just Vivian, over and over.
“Geez, I don’t know, maybe because you’re too goddamn stubborn to accept that your plans might change. You’re too scared to feel things and to tell me how you feel. God! Why won’t you just tell me how you feel?”
“It’s not that…” He pauses. “I just like things the way they are. I don’t want things to change.”
I scoff, my eyes flicking down to the counter. I force myself to make eye contact, feeling like I might throw-up.
“Oh, okay. We’ll just keep things exactly as they are for the rest of our lives… until you get bored with me. You want me to live next door, and be your neighbor who you sleep with. Maybe we’ll crash at your place sometimes, and when people ask what we are, we’ll just shrug and say, ‘Oh, I don’t know. We’re more than friends, but not boyfriend and girlfriend.’ There will be no progress, no future… we’ll just stay stuck in this stagnant limbo. No marriage, no kids, just this half-baked relationship with two separate homes and no real direction.”
Shaking my head, I blink back the tears trying to escape. I can’t believe this is what he wants—to keep me at arm’s length. “That sounds like a really great fucking plan. I’m glad you have that all figured out,” I say sarcastically .
He looks as if he’s getting choked up, but he stays silent, which frustrates me even more.
“God, why won’t you just tell me how you feel? Why can’t you fucking commit to me!” I shout, my voice cracking.
Leo stands there, his shoulders slumped, eyes darting away from mine. He opens his mouth but then closes it, his silence pissing me off even more, cutting deeper than any words.
The tears come. They stream down my face, and I feel like my heart is being ripped out and stomped on.
Just when I finally let myself feel happy, when I choose to love again, the universe picks me up and fucks me with a cactus. Just like it did with Ben and Evie.
“You know,” I say softly, my voice shaky. “For so long, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.” I pause, trying to gain my composure as the sobs come stronger. “I was gasping for breath every day… until I met you.” I look at him, and he meets my eyes with a soft, loving expression. “You put the air back into my lungs, Leo. And I will forever be grateful to you for that. But right now, it feels like I’m being put in a chokehold.”
“If you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend, then let’s do it. Be my girlfriend, okay?”
I laugh-cry. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend out of pity. I want you to want me to be your girlfriend.”
This hurts like hell. Loving Ben, and then losing him and my daughter without a say, changed me forever. Time will never heal that wound. But with Leo, I thought maybe I could be happy again, that I could love, even with the pain of loss constantly stabbing me in the heart.
At least Ben didn’t choose to leave me. I know he would have fought if he could have. But Leo? Leo’s choosing this, to not let me in, to be scared… and to let me go.
“Can you please say something? This isn’t like you not to communicate,” I plead .
“I don’t know what to say, Vivian. I tell you I like the way things are, and that’s not good enough. I tell you to be my bloody girlfriend, but you want me to want that, and I don’t know that I do. So that’s not good enough for you either. This is all still new to me, and I’m doing my best. I don’t know if I ever want to get married or have kids, and I don’t know how to tell you that because I don’t want to lose you. But I know you want those things. So I just don’t fucking know what to say.”
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “God, your mother really fucked you up,” I say, knowing it’s too far, hitting below the belt. He flinches, his face contorting in pain, but I need to get through to him. I grip the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white. “You know that I would rather live one life with the love that I’ve had and lost, than live a thousand lives with no one to love. That’s not living at all.” I release the counter and step back, my voice trembling with anger. “You’re being a fucking coward. And I hope you figure out what the hell you want one day.” I turn sharply and head for the door.
“Vivian,” he calls out, moving to follow me.
I stop, my back to him as I face the door, silently pleading for him to fight for me.
He rushes to me. “Don’t leave like this, babe, please.”
I turn around, and he kisses me with a desperation that rips my heart in two. I pull away, tearing our lips apart, and when he doesn’t say anything, I look at him with all the sadness I’ve buried deep over the past couple of years.
“You’re so worried about losing me, Leo, but what you don’t understand is that by not defining this—what we have… you just lost me.” I search his eyes, my heart pounding. “People don’t date a fuck buddy forever. They don’t stick around for just that. Please be gone when I come back.” I grab the doorknob, my hand trembling, and run toward the Riverwalk, tears blurring my vision.
In the distance, I hear Leo calling my name, his voice filled with desperation, but I keep running.
* * * * * * * * * *
I come home two hours later to find Leo gone, with a note on the table .
Viv,
Please come over when you get home so we can talk. I don’t like the way things were left. I do not want to lose you.
-Leo-
Well, unfortunately, I don’t see the words “I love you” on that note, or anything about him making this work, so to hell with that.
I crumple the note in my hand as a fresh wave of anger and disappointment washes over me. Tossing it in the trash, I sink into the couch, my mind racing. I need more than words on a piece of paper.
I pace the room, trying to shake off the frustration. I glance out the window toward Leo’s place, hoping he’ll come to his senses and come over to confess his love for me. But the street is empty.
Frantically, I start packing a bag. I have to get out of here. I stop only for a moment to find myself a flight to Salt Lake City, sobbing uncontrollably, even though I just sobbed for two hours outside. I find a flight that leaves in five hours and book it… a one-way only. I’ll have to talk to Seth and my boss about working remotely for a few weeks, and I’ll need to fly in at least twice over the next month to be on-site. Shit, I hope I can make this work.
I throw some clothes into the bag, my hands shaking. I don’t know when I’ll be back. My one-year contract is up in five weeks, and I was hoping, albeit stupidly, that Leo would ask me to move in with him, so I could let Seth have the condo back. I know he won’t mind if I stay, but I’ll have to start paying rent, and it’s expensive. But if Leo and I are through, I can’t live here. Ugh! I don’t know what I’m doing. I need to get out of here and get some fresh air. I pack quickly and head to the airport three hours early.
I don’t even know where I’m going to stay. I don’t want to stay with my parents because my mom will be all positive, and I can’t handle that shit right now.
I text Melissa.
Vivian: Hey, I have a random question… do you know if the park city home we did together is available right now or being rented? I need a place to crash for a couple of days. If you think your dad would be okay with it .
Worst-case scenario, I can go to my parents in a few days, but right now, I need to be alone.
Melissa: Hey! It’s totally available! Everything ok?
Vivian: Yeah, everything is good. Just needing a Utah visit… don’t want to stay at my parents. I arrive tonight.
Melissa: Do you want me to stock the fridge with some of your faves?
Vivian: No, please do not go to any trouble. Girl's night this weekend tho? Watch movies? Can you send me the entrance code and anything else I need to know?
Melissa: Yes to girls night, and incoming. Give me 5.
She sends me all the info I need to get into the house, and I feel a wave of relief. Normally, I’d be thrilled to stay at such an incredible place, but right now, it’s challenging to muster any excitement. I debate whether to tell my parents I’m coming. I have to settle my emotions before I see them. I text Sarah to let her know that I’m headed her way.
* * * * * * * * * *
The Uber driver drops me in front of the 7000 square foot home. The meticulously manicured landscape and accent lighting highlight the home beautifully. I enter the key code. The lock hums and clicks, and I step inside this stunning retreat that I helped create. I gasp, momentarily forgetting how majestic the entrance is. The furniture is fit for royalty, modern and elegant. I walk into the kitchen and fill up my water bottle from the reverse osmosis tap, savoring the brief moment of serenity.
There’s a handwritten note on the counter from Melissa.
Hey, I stocked the fridge for you so you wouldn’t have to go to the store tonight. I knew you’d at least need cream for your coffee in the morning.
XoXo, Melissa
It’s such a simple gesture, but it brings tears to my eyes. Maybe I’m just extra emotional from the day. I think back to my argument with Leo this morning—can I even call it that? It was more me getting upset and talking too much. A wave of nausea hits me, and I feel as if I’m going to be sick. I run to the bathroom, barely making it in time, as I hurl up the dinner I ate at the airport.
I rinse my mouth and gargle some water. Needing my toothbrush, I carry my suitcase upstairs to the master suite. Opening it, I pull out my toiletries.
* * * * * * * * * *
I slept like shit, again. I feel exhausted and foresee a long nap in my near future.
I open the fridge to grab the creamer Melissa bought, scanning it to see what options I’ll have later for breakfast. I take my coffee onto the master suite balcony and sit on the luxurious outdoor patio couch. The view of pine trees and the valley below, with the sun rising, is breathtakingly beautiful. The temperature is perfect, and the only sounds are the array of birds singing, echoing through the mountains. Closing my eyes, I inhale the mountain air. I can almost taste the sap from the trees, and the scent of wildflowers singes my nose hairs.
There is nothing like this. The tranquility and peace of the mountains is the most healing thing for my soul.
God, this is just the escape I needed.
I contemplate my last thought, and the word escape stands out in my mind. Escape —the act of avoiding something unpleasant. A sudden realization hits me: although I moved to Chicago for what I believed to be the right reasons, I was actually escaping the difficulties I faced every day. And now, I’m doing the same thing again. I’m escaping the problem, the very thing I don’t want to deal with.
Maybe the problem isn’t all Leo. Maybe it’s me too. I keep escaping from the hard things instead of facing them head-on.
Fuuuccckk . I moved to Chicago when things got too hard with Ben. I didn’t talk to Leo over my Christmas break, and then again in January and February. Now I’m avoiding him again. But isn’t it healthy to avoid getting hurt even more? I need to figure out how to balance protecting myself and confronting the issues at hand. I either need to rip the bandaid off and be done with Leo completely, or be okay with this nameless relationship. I can’t change him; I can only do things differently.
At least I recognize my pattern of escaping now. It’s not the healthiest, but I am planning to go back. I just need a minute… or a few weeks, to ground myself and come up with a plan.
I pick up my phone and look at my message notifications. I have six new text messages, all from late last night. The only ones I’ve opened and responded to since I left have been from Melissa and Sarah. There are three texts from Leo, one from Meredith, and two more from Melissa.
Melissa: Did you get in the house ok?
Melissa: Lmk if you need anything… girls night tonight?
I send a quick response, kicking myself for not checking in once I arrived.
Vivian: Yes! Thank you so much for stocking the fridge. You know I can’t live without my cream! You’re the best… tonight works for girls night. Should we get Thai?
I open Meredith’s text.
Meredith: Hey—checking in on you. I spoke with Leo briefly last night… if you need to talk, I’m here.
That’s sweet of Mer.
Vivian: Thanks Meredith. I'm ok. I may take you up on that in a few days.
I stare at Leo’s messages, nervous to open them, knowing the effect they will have on me. I tap on them.
Leo: Viv… please come over and talk to me.
Leo: Please answer your phone… We need to talk.
He called twice last night, and I sent them to voicemail.
Leo: Babe—please talk to me. I care about you more than anything. Don’t push me away.
Don’t push him away? Give me a break, I can’t push anyone away who won’t let me in to begin with. I ponder what to say. I don’t want to ignore him completely. I can’t run from my problems more than I already have. I have to face them eventually.
Vivian: Hey… I got your messages. I just need some time to think .
I hesitate before pressing send, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I want to be honest with him, but is this too vague? I delete it, and start typing again.
Vivian: I care about you too, but I need to know you’re willing to let me in. Completely. I need to know that you’re open to moving forward with me—not just staying where we are. I’m in Utah for now. I don’t know when I’m coming back.
I take a deep breath and press send. The little dots indicating he’s typing appear almost immediately. My heart races as I wait for his response.
Leo: I know. I want you to have the clarity you need … I wish you wouldn’t have taken off before talking to me. When do you come home?
Jesus.
He wants me to have clarity, but obviously can’t give it to me. We keep hitting the same nail on the head over and over—he wants me to understand, but he won’t give me what I need to get there. I ignore that, only answering his question.
Vivian: Don’t know when I’m coming back, could be a few weeks, or a few months. I may not come back at all… Utah is my home. Chicago was only ever a temporary move.
The dots appear again as he continues to type.
Leo: I wish I could promise you everything you deserve right now. Please don’t run away… Come back, you have a life here.
Vivian: People don’t make major life decisions and permanent moves for a fuck-buddy, Leo. That’s clearly all I am to you when it comes down to it.
Shit. I know that was an immature comment, but I sent it anyway.
Leo: God, you are so much more than that to me. I know I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve made mistakes, but I need you to understand that my feelings for you are real. You’re not just a ‘fuck-buddy’ to me. You’re everything. You were right when you said what you did about my mum. I’ve built walls to protect myself, and they’re keeping me from fully being with you. I don’t know how to break them down… But I’m trying.
Gah! I’m exasperated. I like his message, acknowledging it without engaging further. I switch my phone to airplane mode and slam it down on the table, my fingers trembling with frustration. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with this right now.
I’m not asking for a ring, for crying out loud. Just some sign that there’s a future for us. A glimpse of stability in this venture of ours. I take a sip of my coffee, mulling over these texts. The coffee tastes bitter, sending a wave of nausea through me. Ugh. Shutting my eyes, I breathe in deeply and slowly until it passes. My coffee no longer seems appealing, which is not normal for me. Never have I not wanted coffee in the morning, except for when I was first pregnant with Evie.
Oh my God.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God .
A wave of anxiety crashes over me as I remember my birthday and the unused condom. I remember Leo and me talking about getting Plan B, but we were so drunk we completely forgot. I pull up my calendar on my phone, checking the start date of my last period and counting twenty-six days from then. My period should have arrived six days ago, but my cycle can be unpredictable, sometimes coming at twenty-one days or thirty-six days.
A knot tightens in my stomach as the nausea intensifies.
* * * * * * * * * *
Thirty minutes later, I sit on the toilet, staring at the plus symbol on the pregnancy test. My hands shake, nearly dropping the stick. I clutch it tighter as my mind races. The emotions hit me all at once, and I start ugly crying, sobbing uncontrollably for the next twenty minutes. I cradle my head in my hands, my nose runny and stuffy at the same time, while the heavy pressure on my chest makes it feel impossible to breathe. Guilt washes over me. I would never not want a baby. After all the loss I’ve experienced, a baby is something I could only hope for, could only dream of. I’m not crying because I’m pregnant—I’m crying because of the unpredictability of the future. I don’t want my child to have a baby-daddy. That’s not what I would choose .
I know I have to tell Leo, but knowing him, he’ll be all stoic, doing the right thing, which is great, except I don’t want him to try to love me out of obligation. I want him to choose me, to want this life with me and our child.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.