Chapter 9
PHOEBE
One week later
The ride back from the airport is a stark reminder that the sweet dream is over.
My stomach is tangled up in knots as I brace myself for returning to the real world, preparing to say goodbye to the paradise I found in Hawaii.
“It’s been quiet on social media for the past several days,” Theo says, going through his phone.
August is driving, while Theo rides shotgun and Dominic and I share the backseat.
We agreed to come back together. They’ll drop me off at my place before they go back to their own lives.
Every mile we burn through New York City feels like a bitter farewell.
I feel the distance growing between us, though I don’t want to.
“They found something else to focus on,” Dominic replies. “Nothing lasts long on the internet, not really. Sure, you can dig it back up, but there’s always something new to take its place.”
“Either way, it’s done and dusted,” Theo sighs. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
We all know it won’t. Someone will try to milk this further, somehow, at some point. All I can do is pray for the strength to get over it sooner rather than later.
“Are you alright?” Dominic asks, looking at me.
“Yes. Just tired. Long flight.”
He takes my hand in his and gives it a soft squeeze. “Any plans for the weekend?”
“I don’t even have plans for lunch today,” I chuckle. “I just want to get home and decompress, for starters. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”
I notice the subtle exchange of glances between all of them as we drive past Central Park and deeper into the heart of Manhattan. I wish I’d missed it more while I was away, but the truth is, I wish we would’ve stayed in Hawaii.
“Have you spoken to Penny yet?” Dominic asks.
Slowly, I take my hand back and lean against the car window. “Yes. She’s coming over later to catch up. I guess we’ll order in.”
“If you don’t have any plans for the weekend, we could put something together,” Theo suggests. “Our place in the Hamptons is the perfect getaway from the city heat.”
“Don’t I know it,” I sigh, a touch of bitterness in my voice.
“Ah, that’s right. We had you and… right.” There’s a tinge of regret in his tone.
“Right.”
The conversation dwindles quickly. Again. It’s awkward. I’m not helping, but I don’t know what else to do. In Hawaii, it was different. Nobody knew who we were. We answered to no one, and my family was far enough away that I could dodge their calls and messages without feeling too guilty about it.
I’m already feeling like the old Phoebe again. Maybe a little heavier. Or maybe it’s in my mind. It’s funny how my demons were waiting for me, right there at the airport, eager to dig their claws back in.
“Here we are,” August says as he pulls up outside my brownstone.
The goodbye is even more awkward as Theo gets my suitcase out of the trunk and Dominic escorts me to the elevator. I stop them from going any further with a polite smile, and for a moment, I feel like the worst person in the world.
August, Dominic, and Theo stand before me, gorgeously tanned and smiling softly. I mutter a “Thanks for everything, we’ll be in touch,” before disappearing inside the elevator.
Everything about them tells me they want to try to make this work. But I’m shutting them out. At least today because I don’t know what else to do.
Tears prick my eyes as I reach my floor and stumble into the hallway, their replies echoing in the back of my head.
“Don’t be a stranger, Phoebe,” August had requested.
“I won’t, I promise,” I told him.
“We’ll see you soon,” Dominic said.
“Text us when you’re settled,” Theo added.
I feel awful and on the verge of tears upon reaching my door. My guilt is overwhelming, along with the ease of my self-sabotage.
“What the…” I mutter as I notice the note taped to my door.
I recognize the writing. Black ink on a yellow Post-It.
Dinner at our place tomorrow night. 8 p.m.—sharp. Bring the groomsmen. Love, Mom.
“Oh, shit,” I groan, realizing I’m about to deal with the downfall of my Hawaiian escapade, fully aware that Dominic, August, and Theo probably received similar invitations of their own, taped to their doors.
Once I’m inside my apartment, the feeling of home envelops me.
For a moment, the thought gives me comfort.
But the ghosts of my past quickly return to haunt me, their laughter and harsh words stinging, taking nasty bites out of my soul.
I wonder what my mother has planned for dinner while I unpack, then jump into the shower.
“Hey, Mom,” I call her afterward, putting the phone on speaker as I pat myself dry in front of the bedroom mirror. “You left a note on my door.”
“Oh, you do know how to use the phone,” Mom replies in a flat tone. Passive-aggressive as always. Forever true to her personal brand. “Welcome back.”
“Glad to be back.”
“Really?”
No, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Of course,” I reply in an equally flat tone. “There’s no place like home. So, you mentioned something about dinner?”
“Yes, darling. I’m expecting the four of you tomorrow evening at our family home,” my mother says. “I’ve extended invitations to the three dashing groomsmen you eloped to Hawaii with, as well. And I’m not taking no for an answer if that’s what you’re calling about.”
“Actually, it is what I was calling about—wait, eloped?”
“That’s what those people on social media called it.”
“We didn’t elope,” I reply with a sigh. “I just didn’t want to miss out on an already paid two-week trip to Hawaii, given the circumstances.”
“Circumstances for which you share part of the blame.”
“I’m going to hang up, now, Mom,” I bluntly end the conversation.
I want to throw the phone against the wall, but I take a deep breath to temper myself instead. I sit on the edge of the bed, searching my reflection in the mirror.
In Hawaii, I felt beautiful. Even naked, I liked the woman smiling back at me.
In New York, however, she’s the same Phoebe who got dumped on the eve of her wedding. Waves of hot tears come over me. Tears I thought I’d already shed. I cry my heart out, curled up on my bed, wishing for a better ending to my story.
Nobody and nothing changed while I was away.
As evening falls over the city, I sit at the window in my living room with a glass of iced tea.
My eyes feel puffy, my soul heavy. I missed my home, my little safe corner of the world.
When I got this apartment, it didn’t come with a separate decorating budget, and my job at my father’s company didn’t pay enough to cover everything I wanted to do with the place.
But I do like the way it turned out, with its gray walls and earthy tones, plush seating and eclectic artwork.
Each piece tells a story of where I found it and how I came to buy it.
Mostly from flea markets and tiny art shops across Yonkers.
There’s a little piece of me in every inch of this place, and the view makes my heart grow every time I look out and see the green layers of Central Park unraveling before my eyes.
A knock on the door startles me. Penny left less than twenty minutes ago. She must have forgotten something. But as I open the door, my breath leaves me.
“What are you doing here?”
August, Dominic, and Theo stand on the threshold. Freshly shaven and sporting different clothes from earlier, they look at me as if I’m the only girl in the world, and for a brief moment, I feel like I did in Hawaii all over again.
“Did you really think you could get rid of us that easily?” Theo chuckles.
Dominic holds up a bottle of white wine. I recognize the label. “Castello Banfi,” he says. “I found it at a store close to our place. Couldn’t resist.”
“It’s the same as what we had at the restaurant at the resort, isn’t it?” I gasp, remembering every sweet detail of that beautiful first night.
“It is,” he confirms.
“It would be a shame not to enjoy it,” August adds with a wink.
“What, like now?”
“Do you have anything better to do?” he asks with an arched eyebrow.
I shake my head slowly and take a step to the side so they can come in. And just like that, my foyer is overcrowded by three massive and breathtakingly handsome men who brought me a great Italian chardonnay and the pleasure of their company.
“I’m sorry,” I say as we move into the living room. I grab four wine glasses from the kitchen while Dominic opens the bottle. “I didn’t mean to be rude earlier. It’s just that—”
“You didn’t know how to say goodbye after we spent two amazing weeks virtually inseparable,” he says and pours the wine evenly into the four glasses.
“Pretty much.”
“But here’s the thing. You don’t have to say goodbye,” August replies. He sits in the armchair while Theo, Dominic and I share the large, ridiculously comfortable sofa. “We certainly don’t want to say goodbye. Especially not after your mother invited us to dinner.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, heat bursting in my cheeks. “Oh God.”
“We all had notes taped to our doors,” Theo laughs. “Helen Baldwin has a flair for the dramatic, I’ll give her that.”
“It’s Helen Astor-Baldwin, if you don’t mind,” I shoot back, affecting my mother’s haughty tone. “She insisted on keeping her maiden name when she married my father.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “Of course. Astor. Yet another uppity dynasty of Manhattan. And with Helen being the third daughter, someone had to carry the name forward, even if it meant it would have to share the limelight with Baldwin.”
“Fun fact: she only gave it to my sister. Crystal Astor-Baldwin. I’m just Phoebe Baldwin.”
“My God, the more I learn about your family and the complex dynamics behind it, the more I’m inclined to just move the four of us to Hawaii forever,” Dominic sighs and takes a long sip of his wine. “I might as well just buy the damned state altogether and seal an island off just for us.”
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s not the worst idea, given the circumstances. I do apologize on my mother’s behalf, however. You really don’t have to show up for dinner tomorrow. It’s okay.”