Chapter 33
VIVIAN
Two Days Later
My watch vibrates, drawing my attention to the message from Leo that flashes on the screen. I press the side button to clear it, then pick up my phone.
“Sorry,” I apologize, distracted. “Leo just texted me again.” He’s been sending these sweet, persistent texts over the past few days, and they’re making it really hard for me to stay mad at him.
“Well, what does it say?” Sarah asks.
We’re on the patio of The Spur Bar and Grill , enjoying drinks and live music. Sarah is sipping on margaritas while I’m sticking to sparkling water.
Leo: Do you remember how Jacob falls for the girl from the bar, at the end of “Crazy, Stupid, Love"? And how I
said that would never be me?… It turns out I was wrong.
A smile tugs at my lips as I read his message. I turn my phone toward Sarah so she can see.
“Ahhh, that’s sweet,” she says, taking a thoughtful sip of her margarita. “What are you going to say back?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. It’s not like a few text messages mean he’s going to commit to me,” I say, resting my elbow on the tabletop and propping my chin on my fist .
“What do you want to say?”
“I want to tell him to either go to hell or fuck off,” I say with a quiet laugh. “But I also want to tell him that I love him and that I miss him…” I trail off, my mood turning somber.
“Well,” she says laughing, “I guess you could say all of those things. Nothing wrong with being honest.”
“I know. I just don’t want to give him anything until I’m clear on his intentions.”
“What do you think they are?”
“I’m not sure. It feels like he wants me to come back so we can fall into the same dysfunctional pattern we’ve had for months—the endless push and pull of Vivian and Leo.” I shake my head, leaning back and crossing my arms. “I think he wants more, but will struggle to commit. I feel he loves me, but I don’t know if leaving Utah to go back to Chicago will change anything,” I say quietly. “And that terrifies me.”
She looks at me with concern. “That’s tough… especially given your current situation.”
I put my phone away. “I’ll figure out what to say later,” I say with a smile. “I don’t want to be distracted while I’m with you.”
The music drifts onto the balcony from inside, and the lights on Main Street shimmer in the night. “I don’t mind talking about it.” Sarah reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to work out. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Right … because that’s how my life usually goes.
* * * * * * * * * *
I say goodnight to Sarah as she heads into one of the guest suites. The house, a luxury ski home, has four large master suites, two with balconies and hot tubs. Since Sarah had been drinking, she’s staying over. I wouldn’t feel right sending her down the canyon late at night, for obvious reasons .
I sit cross-legged on my bed and open my phone, staring at the message from Leo. It’s almost midnight in Chicago, and I debate waiting until morning to respond, but I don’t want to.
Vivian: Really? Who’s the lucky girl… do I know her?
Smiling, I send the message, not expecting a reply until morning. I leave my phone on the bed and brush my teeth.
I climb into bed and turn off the lights with the remote on the nightstand. As I reach for my phone to plug it in, it lights up.
Leo: Hmm. I don’t think you do. You’d like her though, she’s about your height, dark brown hair… come to think of it, she reminds me of you. She’s witty, cool as can be, and sexy as hell.
Vivian: Is that right? Well I know how things end in the movie… what’s your ending look like?
Leo: They live happily ever after, love. :-)
I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips as my heart skips a beat. Damn him.
Vivian: Good night Leo.
I set my phone on the charger and roll over, nestling my head into the pillow. Tonight feels better than it has in a while. For the first time in weeks, I allow myself to feel hopeful, imagining a future where maybe, just maybe, Leo and I could find that happy ending.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning
“Do you think you’ll move back? Raise the baby here?” Sarah asks, sipping her coffee.
We’re on the balcony of her room, which faces the back of the mountain, making it feel like you’re in the woods. I watch a doe and her two fawns grazing a short distance away, their ears twitching occasionally.
“I don’t know. I’d like to be near my mom and dad, but I do like Chicago. Honestly, it depends on Leo. I wouldn’t move away if he wanted to be actively involved.” As I say it, I realize he will want to be, based on our conversation during that walk. “I feel stuck.”
“Do you think he’d ever move here?”
I consider the question for a moment. “I’m not sure; I haven’t really thought about that as an option,” I admit honestly. I purse my lips, a scowl forming. Maybe he could move here.
I start to envision what my life might look like, and a pang of sadness washes over me as I realize that my future might not include a husband to share it with. I’m in love with someone who won’t commit, and I can’t fully separate from him because we’re now connected through my pregnancy. I thought things were complicated enough before, being a widow, but now it feels like an absolute clusterfuck.
For a moment, I allow myself to picture us in the same home, raising kids together, and a warm happiness washes over me. I find myself teary-eyed as I sip my coffee, forcing it down despite its bitter taste. It still doesn’t taste great, but I don’t want to face the caffeine headache that comes with cutting it out entirely. I stick to a small cup each morning, mindful not to overdo it for the baby’s sake.
A wave of nausea hits me, and I rush inside to the bathroom in Sarah’s suite—I know I won’t make it to mine. I vomit into the toilet, the tears that had already pooled now streaming down my cheeks. I hate throwing up with a passion and definitely don’t do it gracefully. Hoping the nausea subsides soon, I rinse my face with cold water, swish and gargle some mouth rinse, and pat my face dry before rejoining Sarah outside.
“Have you told your mom yet?” Sarah asks as I sit down. The sun is starting to reach the corners of the deck, and I know the sweatshirt I’m wearing will be too warm in the next twenty minutes.
“No, not yet. I want to wait until I have a bit more clarity,” I say.
Sarah is the only one who knows about the pregnancy right now. I have my first appointment in a week and a half, and I’d like my mom to be there, so I might have to tell her by then. I could bring Sarah, and I’d love for her to be there with me, but I might really need my mom’s support.
“When do you plan to tell Leo?” Sarah asks, her brow furrowed in concern .
“Ugh, I don’t know,” I reply, rubbing my temples. “Soon? I have to go to Chicago in a week for work, and I’d rather do it in person. I could tell him over lunch.”
Sarah nods thoughtfully. “That sounds like a good plan.”
I take a deep breath and shift my gaze, then ask, “Are you and Ryan trying yet?” I remember her mentioning at my birthday party that they were considering starting a family soon, which makes sense given Ryan’s age.
“Yes!” Sarah says, her eyes sparkling. “We’re officially trying, as of two weeks ago. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we both had babies within a few months of each other?”
“Yeah, that would be really great,” I agree, smiling at the thought.
We chat more, but as the sun rises and warms the deck, the brisk mountain morning air starts to fade, leaving me feeling uncomfortably hot, and killing the vibe.
* * * * * * * * * *
After breakfast, Sarah gathers her things into her overnight bag. I walk her outside, where the sun is blazing hot now. We share a hug goodbye, and I remind her to text me when she gets home, as I’m always worried about her drive.
Once Sarah leaves, I decide to start my day with a Peloton ride. I push through a challenging workout, the sweat and endorphins clearing my mind. Feeling energized, I head to the shower and dry my hair while pondering how to spend my Saturday. I know I have a few hours of work to catch up on, so I grab my laptop and head to the office. The room has a floor-to-ceiling window that offers stunning views and floods the space with natural light. I could get used to living here, but I remind myself that this is only a temporary escape.
Fifteen minutes into my work, the familiar buzz of my phone breaks my concentration. It’s a text from Leo.
Leo: Good morning, love. What are you up to today ?
I scowl at the phone, unsure of what to do with this. This text is different from the cutesy messages he’s been sending lately; it feels normal, like we’re just good friends and no time has passed.
Does he think we can simply pick up where we left off or become more by exchanging texts?
I guess it’s technically my fault for the lack of communication since I left and haven’t answered his calls. That realization stings a bit.
Vivian: Just getting some work done.
There. Simple and to the point.
Leo: Are you home?
Vivian: Yes.
Leo: Could you do me a favor?
Is there a more vague question?
Vivian: I don’t know… I guess it depends on what it is.
I type it irritably.
Leo: Can you take a few minutes to listen to a song? I picked it carefully for you from one of your favorite artists. I know music speaks to you and can define moments in your life. I want you to have a defining moment right now, a memory that’s sparked every time you hear this song. It conveys what I want to say to you. I’d sing it for you, but that would ruin the effect I want it to have.
He adds a grimacing face emoji at the end, which makes me smile slightly.
I sigh. Is there any harm in agreeing to do this? It’s three minutes of my time, and it seems important to him.
Vivian: Okay…
He sends a link to a James Arthur song, one of my favorites. I click on it because I agreed to listen right now, even though I already know the song by heart.
I push play on “Say You Won’t Let Go,” and by the first chorus, I’m in tears. Waves of emotion rush over me as he sings about knowing his love but hiding it out of fear, needing someone but never showing it, and wanting to stay together until we’re old .
As the song continues, I’m hit with a mix of emotions as he sings about waking up to breakfast in bed, bringing coffee with a kiss, and the simple joy of taking the kids to school.
I imagine a life filled with love and gratitude, even in the small, everyday moments. A lump forms in my throat as I picture us growing old side by side, supporting each other through everything. Tears stream down my face as I imagine that kind of love, hoping against hope that it’s not just a dream or something that was once had, but is now gone forever.
The song ends, and I stare at the lyrics on my phone, reading them over and over, trying to comprehend what this means. Is this Leo’s way of telling me he loves me? Is he promising me these things? Or is it just a song that reminded him of us, without him being able to say these things or commit? My phone vibrates.
Leo: Did you listen to the song?
Vivian: Yes. It’s a beautiful song… one of my favorites.
Leo: Good…
Good? What the hell?
Leo: Now will you come and answer the door so I can show you what those lyrics truly mean?
A laugh escapes my lips as I practically run out of the office and down the stairs, wiping at my tears as I go. Swinging the door open, I find Leo standing there, looking incredible as he always does.
A soft smile lies on his face. “Hey, Viv,” he says coolly, with a hand in his pocket.
I let out a breathy “hi”, trying to hide the new wave of emotion hitting me all at once. Pregnancy making everything more difficult.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he sighs, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been so bloody stupid. This past month without you has been torture.” He looks down, shifting his weight, trying to pull himself together. When he meets my eyes again, they’re glassy with unshed tears. “I missed your smile… and your laugh… the way your eyes light up when you’re excited.”
He takes a shaky breath, his gaze locking onto mine. “I love you, Vivian. I love the way you’re always thinking of others, how you come up with your own words or phrases, your obsessive organization, and how you take over my kitchen like it’s yours. I love your wit, your humor, your stubborn determination… you’re fucking incredible. I love everything about you. And I’ve felt this way for a long time.”
He laughs softly, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “I’m not even sure when I fell in love with you. I just did. Somewhere between you giving me shit, our morning coffee chats, hearing you laugh, watching you sleep…”
He pauses, taking a step closer. “And making love to you,” he takes another step, closing the gap between us until I feel the heat of his body merge with mine. “Because that’s what it’s been. In Paris… that wasn’t just sex for me. That was the first time I’ve ever really made love to someone, and I’ll never forget that night as long as I live.”
Tears of joy stream down my cheeks. He takes my hands in his, looking deeply into my eyes.
“I love you, Vivian Walker. This past month has shown me just how much you mean to me. I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect partner or that I’ll want to get married.”
My heart sinks at those words.
“But I can promise I’ll be here for you, that I’ll love you every step of the way, that I’ll try, and that I’m committed to you. Whether you’re my girlfriend, my life partner, or someday, my wife—none of those labels matter to me. What matters is that you’re beside me in life until I take my last fucking breath.”
He searches my eyes as he waits for me to respond, toying with my fingers, stroking them gently. I’m so overwhelmed that I can’t find the words. He said he loves me. I knew he did, but hearing him say it changes everything. He’s confronting his past, moving forward, and he’s ready to commit to being with me.
He waits, patient and hopeful, looking for anything, an answer, a confession, a nod… something.
The words are stuck in my throat, so I answer him the only way I can right now. I lean in and kiss him, pouring all my feelings into it. His lips are warm and soft, responding with a gentle intensity that speaks volumes. And it feels so damn good. The kiss deepens, and I wrap my arms around his neck, giving him everything I have. The connection between us solidifies, a silent promise that we we’ll face whatever comes together.
I pull back, cupping his face in my hands. “I love you too. God, I love you so much!”
We kiss for several minutes, lost in the moment and each other’s tender touches. His hands slide up my back as I thread my fingers through his hair, the silky strands slipping between them. He pulls back just enough to press a kiss to my forehead before resting his forehead against mine, sharing breath like we’ve done dozens of times before. I close my eyes, savoring the moment—the rhythm of his breathing, the lingering scent of his cologne, the soft stroke of his thumb against my cheek. I never want to forget this.
“Viv,” he says softly, “will you move in with me?”
I simply nod. I don’t open my eyes, I don’t speak, I don’t look at him, afraid to find this is all a dream. All I can do is just be in this moment, and there is nothing I want more than to move in with him.
I nod again, more urgently, as my lips search for his, my eyes still closed. They find them, and his tongue teases mine as I welcome it into my mouth.
I break our kiss, grabbing his hand to lead him to my bedroom, where I want to give myself to him completely.
“Come here.” I say, my voice soft and raw.
I lead him up the stairs and down the hallway. Once inside, I turn to face him, my heart pounding with anticipation.
Damn, it’s been way too long.
Leo gently brushes a lock of hair from my face, his fingers trailing softly along my cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes filled with adoration.
I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. “I love you,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
“I love you too.”
“Show me,” I challenge .
His hands move to my waist, sliding under the hem of my shirt, pulling me closer. Our bodies press together, and I melt into him. His lips find mine again, and I fist his shirt in my hands to steady myself.
Leo’s hands glide lower, caressing my ass as he pulls me even closer. My stomach does flips, and I can already feel that tingling numbness building between my thighs. I raise my arms, and he pulls my shirt over my head, slowly undressing me. He presses tender kisses all over my body between each article of clothing that’s shed, his eyes never leaving mine, as if he’s committing every moment to memory. I do the same, pulling his shirt over his head and feeling the smooth skin beneath my fingertips, appreciating every detail of him.
We move to the bed and he lays me down gently, his lips never straying far from mine. His kisses travel down my neck, each one lingering and sweet. His hands explore every curve of my body with a reverence that makes me feel cherished and loved.
As his hands slide lower, his breath hovers hot against my ear. “Missed feeling you like this,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. His fingers trail down my stomach, a slow, deliberate glide that has my breath catching.
When he reaches my thighs, he doesn’t rush. Instead, he lingers, brushing just close enough to drive me crazy—the pulsing between my legs intensifying. His movements are deliberate and teasing, his fingertips ghosting over my skin until I’m aching for him. I gasp, subconsciously arching toward him, silently begging for more.
Leo leans into my ear. “Are you wet, love?” His voice carries a hint of cockiness.
I nod, squeezing my eyes shut, the throbbing ache too strong for words.
“Tell me how wet you are,” he says, his tone dark and commanding. That sexy fucking voice alone is enough to make me lose all control.
“I’m wet. I’m so wet for you, babe,” I manage, breathless.
He continues to tease, drawing it out. His fingers glide close to where I need them, only to pull away as he plants slow, sensual kisses on my skin .
“How bad do you want it?” he murmurs.
I can’t take the torture anymore. I grab his hand and guide it toward the dull throb. His fingers brush the top of my slit and stop.
I let out a frustrated groan.
“Tell me how bad you want it.” My eyes are closed, but I know he’s smirking—enjoying this slow torture while I squirm—building my desire until I’m desperate and begging for him.
“I want it so bad. I want you, babe. Please, touch me. Give it to me.” I’m a mess of submissiveness, my voice barely more than a whisper.
I slide my thighs together, desperate for some friction. He chuckles softly, a deep, wicked sound, before his fingers slip exactly where I need them, pressing into me with just the right amount of pressure.
“God,” I hiss.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” he whispers, his lips grazing my neck as his fingers begin a rhythm that has my body instantly responding, pulsing with need.
Every movement is steady and skilled, designed to keep me trembling beneath him, desperate for release. His muscles tense against me as he takes his time, stretching the moment out until all I can think about is him and the pleasure he’s pulling from my body.
“Fuck me,” I say, with a raw urgency in my voice, pulling him closer. “Leo, I want you inside of me.”
I open my legs wide for him as he nestles between them. His tanned, muscular build presses against me, every ridge and contour of his body ignites a fire within me. I surrender completely to him, losing myself in the moment.
When he finally slides into me, our bodies align perfectly. He takes his time, each thrust slow and purposeful, every kiss sending a delicious burn to my core. His eyes lock on mine, filled with so much emotion that my heart swells.
I can’t resist rolling us over, needing to take control, to feel the intensity build under my lead. As I ride him, the rhythm is slow, every motion driving us deeper into that sweet, intimate connection. He sits up, leaning against the bed, angling himself just how I need. The pleasure coils tighter as I control the pace, speeding up as our bodies moves in perfect sync. His hands grip my hips, guiding me faster, pushing us closer to the edge.
When we finally reach that peak together, it’s not just a physical release but an emotional surrender. I dig my nails into his back. “God,” I moan as Leo curses. Our bodies tremble and lock together, holding on as if it’s the only thing that matters.
We cling to each other, the pleasure crashing over us in waves, leaving us panting and intertwined—my love deepening for him with every heartbeat.
Afterward, he holds me close, our bodies still entwined. He kisses the top of my head, and I look up at him, my heart full.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” he whispers. “I know you have with Ben, but for me… this… I’ve never felt this, Viv.”
Damn.
“It’s feels so good to hear that,” I say, pressing my lips to his. “It’s different, though,” I say with unwavering certainty. “I love both of you… in distinct and unique ways. What I feel for you is its own kind of special, and I never want you to think I love you any less than I loved Ben. It’s different, but just as real.”
I loved Ben wholeheartedly. We had passion and chemistry and were best friends, just like me and Leo. I needed to know this was possible, that I could have both… just as Leo told me months ago. He told me that I didn’t have to let go of my past to embrace my future. And now, lying here with him, I believe it. I feel the love I have for Ben in the back of my mind, and I feel this incredibly intense love for Leo at the forefront, and I’m overwhelmed with a bittersweet joy.
As I lie in Leo’s arms, his skin against mine, I know that we’re starting a new chapter together. One filled with hope, love, and endless possibilities.