32. Wendy
I was fine. The doctor in the emergency room was able to spot a heartbeat at not even six weeks old when I arrived there with Cyrus after my near-death experience, and I was thrilled.
I told Vincent the news and the first question he asked was if he could see me.
I said no. I needed some time.
It had been a month since I moved from Newport back to New York. I hadn’t found a rental, but luckily, I had great friends to fall back on while I figured things out: Blair and Zachary. They allowed me to stay in one of their guest rooms while I apartment-hunted and searched for jobs. The cafe in Newport continued to run, thanks to Marissa, and I even brought her on as a co-owner. I figured I could split my time between New York and Newport to help Marissa run the business before the baby arrived. It was only fair.
“Wendy, guess what?” Blair popped her head into my room while knocking on the white doorframe.
“What?” I smiled from bed. Today, the morning sickness hit hard; lying down was the only way to center my empty stomach.
“You have another flower delivery.” Blair popped her brow. “Do I need to tell you who it’s from?” She bit her bottom lip while rocking on her heels.
“No need.” I rolled my eyes, sitting up and, delightfully, zero nausea or dizziness.
“Wait, there’s more. Today, an entire cart of your favorite snacks arrived. Not to mention a top-of-the-line cooling blanket because Vincent knows you run hot when you sleep. Did you open up all those first edition books you always wanted yet? I still can’t believe Vincent tracked those down. Literally, every single one of your favorite authors he pegged down. Half of them are signed, too. Did you see?”
“Yes, I saw everything, Blair.” I ran my hand through my hair, messing it slightly.
“I mean, he is really trying.” Blair took a tentative step into the sun-drenched room, playing with her fingernails.
“You, of all people? You’re suddenly on team Vincent?” I shook my head, fighting off the gnawing ache to return one of his many missed calls.
“Well, I wouldn't say 'team Vincent,' per se,” Blair replied, shrugging her shoulders and avoiding eye contact. She was reluctant to broach this topic, yet she couldn’t ignore the man’s persistent efforts. “I'm just saying he seems... sincere.”
“Sincere? He was sincere when he left me the second time after he promised he wouldn’t?” The bitterness in my voice surprised even me. I masked the hurt with a bitter chuckle, crossing my arms over my stomach protectively.
“Vincent did tell you what his plans were the second time. I’m not trying to defend him, but maybe he’s changed.” Blair entered the room fully and sat on the mattress’ edge.
“People don’t change, Blair,” I retorted slowly, rising to my feet. “They just become more of who they really are.”
“Ouch.” Blair winced. “I never thought of it that way.” She glanced down at her open palms.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off harsh.” I ran my hands through my knotty hair, wondering when I took a shower last. “Fine, if you want to know the truth, I miss Vincent like crazy. And now that I’m pregnant…” I trailed off, fighting the fat tears threatening to spill over my lids.
“Hey, Wendy. It’s okay if you speak to Vincent. No one is going to judge you if you want him back.”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks.” I wiped the wetness from my eyes. “It’s what I want. And I’m not sure what I want.”
Suddenly, my phone vibrated on the nearby nightstand, breaking the tension in the room. Blair raised her brows at me and nodded toward the device. With a heavy sigh, I picked it up, already knowing who the caller was: Vincent.
“Should I answer?” I held the phone in front of Blair, displaying his name boldly across the screen.
Blair shrugged. “It’s entirely up to you, Wendy.”
I took a deep breath as my finger hovered over the green button, my heart pounding in my ears. Every day for the last month, Vincent had called me easily three times a day and sent persistent text messages, even emails. I didn’t have it in me to accept any of his attempts.
“But I'm scared, Blair.” My voice was a whisper now. “I'm scared to let him back in.”
“I know. And your feelings are totally valid. Plus, this is kind of wild, all your favorite things showing up to our apartment every day. It’s almost like a game.” Blair smiled and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Whatever you decide, we're here for you.”
I exhaled a deep breath, my finger still poised above the screen. As the phone vibrated in my hand, my mind began to race with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. What would I say? Would I break down and tell him everything?
And then an image of Vincent's face flashed before my eyes—the way his brow furrowed in worry whenever I was upset, or his eyes sparkled when he laughed. Most importantly, they reflected the unmistakable love whenever he gazed at me.
The ringing stopped abruptly and was replaced by the voicemail tone. I had missed the call. Blair gave a slight sigh as she stood from the bed.
“I'll go deal with the flowers and everything else,” she muttered, almost relieved I hadn't picked up.
Left alone in the room, my fingers danced over the screen as I pulled up Vincent's number. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest as I pressed the dial button, holding the phone to my ear.
It rang once...twice...then three times. As it clicked over to voicemail, my heart sank. But instead of hanging up, I found myself speaking into the void.
“Vincent... it's Wendy,” I started uneasily. My voice wavered slightly as I continued, “I think...I think we need to talk.”
As I ended the call, a small sense of calm washed over me. Yes, many unanswered questions and fears still lingered within, but at least now I had taken a step forward, one that offered a glimmer of resolution, whatever that may be.
In the silence of my room, Blair's words rang true—we can't run from our feelings forever. And now, it was time to face them. For the first time in months, I felt a spark of hope fluttering in my heart. Vincent's past had pushed us apart once, but perhaps we could still find our way back to each other. But this time, it wouldn't be for him—it'd be for me. It'd be for us.
I hopped up from the bed, and to my surprised delight, I felt great. No nausea, the world wasn’t spinning, no sudden cold sweats…nothing. I was back to living and not just existing. Not wanting to waste this renewed energy, I hopped into the shower, letting the gentle shower head release warm water all over my body, cleansing every part of my being and soul.
As the water cascaded down, washing away my fears, I thought about Vincent. Memories of our time together flickered like an old film reel. The laughs we shared, the stolen kisses, the shattering goodbyes. I allowed myself to feel it all—the joy, the pain, the longing.
Eventually, I emerged from the steamy shower and wrapped myself in a soft towel. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and saw someone growing stronger each day. Someone ready to face her past with courage and grace.
I threw on a pair of jeans and a white sweater, making my way to the kitchen when the smell of fresh roses hit my nose. Blair arranged the sixth vase of blood-red roses on the kitchen table. She glanced up as I entered, and a knowing smile tugged at her lips.
“Feel better?” she asked, the light in her eyes shimmering.
“I do,” I admitted, as a genuine smile spread across my face, my hands running through my damp hair.
Blair set the last rose in place and straightened up to face me. “Good, because I want to talk to you about something.” She bolted to the espresso machine, filling two mugs—one decaf, the other regular—and brought them to the table. “Here, sit.” Blair motioned for me to sit in the breakfast nook.
“I feel like I’m in trouble,” I joked, taking a hot sip of the smooth coffee. Even decaf coffees Blair mastered where no one would know the difference.
“Just the opposite.” Blair beamed, sitting across from me. “Come back to King’s Cafe.”
I blinked, looking over my mug at Blair. “King's Cafe?” I echoed.
“Yes. I miss you. The staff misses you. Even after years gone, our regular customers still ask for you.” Blair reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “Come work with me again. Like how it used to be now that you’re back.”
“Blair, I can’t let you create a position for me.” I swallowed, my throat clicking.
“Your position is still there as the general manager. I never replaced you.”
“What?” My heart skipped the best beat.
“Yep,” Blair said cheerfully. “I've been handling things independently—not completely alone, but you understand. I kept your position open, just in case.”
My eyes filled with unshed tears, and Blair squeezed my hand again. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” she responded, her smile softening. “But I wanted to.” Blair smirked. “Call me crazy, but a part of me always knew you’d come back.”
Memories of my time at King’s Cafe rushed back to me: the warm smell of brewing coffee in the morning, the clattering of dishes from the kitchen, the chime of the bell hanging above the front door, despite it being more for show, signaling a new customer’s arrival. It was where I had truly felt a sense of purpose and joy.
“I...I need to think about it,” I finally said.
“What’s there to think about anymore?” said Zachary’s deep timbre from across the kitchen.
Blair and I whipped our heads in his direction as he sauntered through the kitchen, wearing a crisp white shirt and black slacks—classic Zachary attire. His left hand held a wad of tissues, using them to wipe his nose every other step.
“Aw, babe. Are you getting sick?” Blair asked, clearly amused.
“You know I don’t get sick.” Zachary came around and kissed Blair’s head before unleashing a gnarly sneeze. “It’s these fucking flowers.” He flailed his arms toward the ridiculous amount of roses in the room. “And I’ve gained at least five pounds from all the cookies, cake, and whatever the fuck else Vincent has been sending over to win you back. You’ll live happily ever after while I’ll become a diabetic at this rate.”
I glanced at Blair, who was muffling her laughter into her coffee mug.
Zachary released another gigantic sneeze that shook the room. “I promise, it's not contagious.” He nudged Blair with his elbow and pulled up a chair to join us at the table. “I heard what you were discussing,” he said, looking directly at me. “And I agree with Blair. You belong back at King’s Cafe.”
I stared at my half-drunk coffee, then back at Zachary, then Blair, who smiled warmly. Seeing them together like this reminded me of the life I had before.
“You know, the day everything went down, Vincent thought he was on his way back to Newport to apologize to you,” Zachary added as if reading my mind.
“Ugh, I know.” I rubbed my eyes, hating to be reminded of the day where I was going to be killed.
“Zach, don’t remind her of that day.” Blair slapped his side.
“Look, remember when Blair and I almost didn’t get back together because I was stupid, and she was blind to my stupidity?” Zachary asked.
“Who’s the stupid one in this situation?” I glared at Zachary.
“Vincent, obviously. But what I’m trying to say is, don’t let the past ruin all the progress that you guys have made.”
“Progress?” I exhaled sharply, looking down at the table. I could still feel the sting of Vincent's absence, the hollowness his departure had carved in me. “Sometimes it feels like there is no progress without him. Do I really want to go back to someone where I feel that way?”
“I disagree when you say there’s no progress,” Zachary countered, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “You're back here, aren't you? That's progress. You're healing and rebuilding, even if it doesn't always feel that way.”
Blair nodded in agreement, reaching across the table to take my hand again. “He's right. We know it hurts, Wendy. We've been there too.”
“I know you have,” I admitted, feeling a lump in my throat. But our stories weren't the sameBlair and Zachary were together now, happy and whole once more. My ending hadn't been so kind. “I called Vincent before, and he still hasn’t called me back.”
“You called?” Blair’s tone brightened.
“Yes, I called. I left a message asking if we could talk.” I shrugged.
“See? Progress.” Zachary pointed to my forehead.
“I’m just so confused,” I admitted, burying my head in my hands. “How could I still want him? After all he put me through? Put us through?”
“Look, we know Vincent messed up big time. But I think even you know this last stint wasn’t like the first one. You desperately wanted him to be with you when the second round of threats started, but he truly believed that him being near you would have put you in danger.” Zachary’s words washed over my mind.
“And in the end, it did,” I added.
“Right. So you can’t completely fault the guy for distancing himself from you a second time. And this time, it’s not like Vincent disappeared when he did it. You knew where he was, and he kept in touch. It was your choice to not speak to him. He allowed you to stay with him where he thought you would be safest.” Zachary wrapped his arm around Blair, pulling her in.
“Well, I was pissed,” I fired back.
“Of course you were,” Blair conceded, her eyes full of understanding. “You had every right to be. But, Wendy...he’s out there now. Waiting. And he’s trying.”
I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples. The warmth from Blair's hand seemed to seep into me.
“Waiting? Really, you think so?” I tried to keep the hopefulness out of my voice. There was a beat of silence, a moment where everything seemed to hang in the balance—my past, my present, and the uncertain future awaiting me.
“Do I want him or not?” I wondered aloud, absentmindedly tracing the rim of my coffee mug with my finger.
“What does your heart say?” Blair questioned gently.
“Honestly?” My voice was softer than a whisper, and I barely found the courage to meet their gaze. “My heart says yes. It always has.”
It was trueI did want Vincent. Despite everything, my heart yearned for him. He was my happiness; he was the one who made me feel alive. How could I ignore such a magnetic pull? I had one life, and when it came to love, sometimes taking risks and facing possible mistakes was worth it.
“I don’t want to wait for Vincent’s call,” I declared, sitting up straight. “I’m going to find him.”
“And what are you going to say when you see him?” Blair asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity and excitement.
“Everything,” I replied.
An hour later, I stepped out of the cab and planted both feet on the cobbled sidewalk, staring at Central Park. In the dwindling light of the day, it was serene and beautiful. The park was always Vincent's favorite place—our favorite place. He used to say it was a little calm amid the city’s chaos. Each tree, each blade of grass, seemed to hold some memory of him.
Vincent hadn’t returned my call from earlier, but I didn’t need him to. Something about being here at this moment told me this was the reason why my phone never rang with his name splashed across its screen. He was here waiting for me. I just knew it.
With each step, a tinge of hope mixed with anxiety coursed through my bones. The echoes of our shared laughter and stolen kisses still lingered in the air, and it was as if I could feel him close, his magnetic presence pulling me deeper into the park. Tears welled up in my eyes as I approached that familiar, worn-out bench. And there he was. His back was to me, but I would know Vincent anywhere—the broadness of his shoulders, the way he raked his hands through his hair when deep in thought, even the particular set of his jaw.
“Vincent,” I called out.
He spun around. For a moment, we just looked at each other. He was still as handsome as ever, donning a midnight blue fitted suit, his blue eyes full of emotions that mirrored mine.
“Wendy,” he greeted, a tiny smile playing on his lips to hide the surprise. And then he did the unexpected as he dropped to his knees.
“What are you doing?” My eyes bulged as I took a cautious step closer.
“I’m begging for your forgiveness and begging for you to allow me back into your life.” Vincent reached into his left pant pocket but kept his hand hidden between the fabric.
“Vincent…” His name fell from my lips as my pulse thundered in my chest.
“Just let me finish.” He held up a steady yet trembling hand. “I’m thrilled about the baby. It’s the best news I’ve heard. Ever. But, the thing is, that’s not why I’m begging to be let back into your life. Even without the baby, you are enough. You were always enough. More than I ever deserved. And I know I’ve done horrible things and broken promises, but I swear I did it because I thought I was protecting you.” Vincent shuffled forward on his knees, probably destroying his designer suit. “Wendy, I was so wrong. And I promise you, a real promise, that I will never leave you. Never leave our family.” Vincent extracted his hand from his pocket, holding the pink diamond engagement ring I shed weeks ago. “Wendy, will you take me back?” His eyes widened as I stood there pondering his proposal. “I’ll do anything for you. Be anyone for you. Just please, let’s give it one more shot?” Vincent held the ring higher, the sun tickling the sharp cuts in the diamond. “And if you need time to think, then I completely understand too, because I will always wait for you, no matter how long you need.”
“I...” My voice caught in my throat, but seeing him kneeling there with raw hope etched on his face spurred me on. This was it—years of anticipation and turmoil coming down to this single moment. “I don’t need time,” I whispered finally. His face remained impassive as if he hadn't heard me correctly.
“What did you say?” Vincent’s brow perked.
“I don't need time,” I repeated more firmly this time.
A smile slowly spread across his face, making my heart flutter with happiness and relief.
“So... is that a yes?”
Instead of answering with words, my body took over. I ran into his outstretched arms and knew this was the right decision. The ache in my heart began to ease as he clutched me close and whispered soft words of love into my ear. The warmth in my body restored itself, pushing out the lingering cold it had been harboring the last few weeks. Right then, I felt complete.
“Yes,” I whispered into his neck, the word full of promise and forgiveness, marking a new beginning for our relationship. Pulling my face away so our eyes locked, my gaze fell to his lips, and it was enough of an unspoken invitation for Vincent to close the gap between us. As our lips met, there was an electric spark, a familiar jolt that left me breathless. His hands roamed my back gently, and the warmth from his touch seeped right through me. Vincent’s tongue danced with mine, and I answered back with a quiet moan.
Pulling away, he took my left hand and gently slid the pink diamond ring on my finger, where it always belonged. It fit perfectly as if it had never been off. With his forehead pressed against mine, Vincent murmured softly, “I love you more than anything, Wendy.”
Tears welled at the corners of my eyes as I nodded silently, holding him close. His words echoed in my heart, soothing the painful memories of our separation. All that mattered now was the present moment, the love we shared, and the future we would build together.
“I was wondering,” I began, tracing his sharp jawline with my fingertips. “I have a doctor’s appointment in about an hour across town. It’s to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Would you like to come?”
“Would I...” Vincent mirrored my tears and kissed my fingertips, pulling me closer if possible. “I would love to.”