23. Chapter 23
Dom
A little over two months after attending Cora's party on my own, I show up to another casual get-together with no one on my arm.
It's fine. It's really helping me focus on my performance in a season that is already demanding so much from me.
That's one point toward the 'everything is handled' column in this new tally I'm trying to keep.
Saint welcomes me to his home with a big, proud smile.
We're about to watch the first episode of Ames' cooking show.
They told me not to bring anything, but I give him a bottle of champagne anyway.
I'm happy for them. Truly. I mean it. It's on me to handle the feelings I get, when I think about how good it used to be when I could be this happy.
The way life seemed easier to go through, when I could look to the side and trust I'd have someone to hold my hand. Days when clouds could never fully hide the sun. Having that feeling of home, sweet home, wherever I went, only because my heart trusted so completely.
Back then, I felt invincible. It's funny. Maybe that's why her departure didn't scare me enough and I fell so deeply in love.
It's okay. I'm much wiser today. This time, I won't forget she'll leave. No need to take all this time together as a sign I'll fuck up and forget my mother's lessons again.
I'm given a drink and led to the big balcony.
Saint and Ames live in a high rise condo, with a decent view of Lake Washington.
For the event, they got the terrace temporarily redecorated.
Some sort of tent covers the place with heaters to protect from the November weather, and sizable, transparent swaths of material allow us to overlook the city beneath us.
At the front, a large screen where I assume we'll watch the show.
Directed at it, a few love seats make room for everyone to watch comfortably.
An informal, yet very comfortable outdoor cinema.
"We have appetizers on the side tables," Saint explains. "Ames' team is helping us tonight."
As a chef with a catering business, this is right in her wheelhouse. Having had her food before, I'm excited and end up peeking at the side tables, happy to see cheeses, cold meats, and other standard charcuterie assortment.
Ames reaches us and gives Saint a drink refill. "Gael, you definitely overdid it."
"Never." He gives Ames a quick kiss.
Saint is a man who doesn't mind an overstatement. He's dressed in black pants covered in large, white flower print, and a silky navy shirt. It contrasts with my own more sober style of a dusty green, textured sweater, and my favorite black jeans.
"Besides," Saint argues, "it's raining and we need to keep the warmth in one place, right? We're going for cozy vibes, just like your show."
"I didn't need this to be a branded event," she laughs.
"Maybe not, but I did," he says.
All I do is smirk their way. I'm used to my friends' antics.
"Regardless, I'm thrilled," I say. "Congrats on your show, Ames."
I offer her a quick hug that she accepts, before they turn to continue hosting and preparing for the main event and following dinner. Most couples are already in their place and I take the time to say hi to everyone, before finding my place on the empty couch at the back.
"Sorry, the call went a little longer than I thought," Mariana says.
She comes into the balcony wearing wide-leg, black linen pants, a low-cut black t-shirt, and a loose, long tan cardigan. She looks pretty, in a more casual version of her typical attire. She holds a glass of white wine in one hand.
She talks to Saint and Ames nearby. "I needed to talk to my dad and with the time difference I couldn't wait…"
"No problem," Ames says. "We're about to start."
They bring Mariana to my couch.
"You don't mind, do you?" Saint asks us with a mischievous grin. "We had limited space and we didn't have other options."
She gazes at me with a smile. "Not at all."
"We're good," I agree.
She sits next to me. It's a little bit of a tight squeeze.
"Hey," she says.
"Hey."
We don't say anything else.
"Mhh," Saint says. "Lovely."
"Okay." Ames echoes his smile. "Let's get ready."
They go to the front, where Saint clinks his glass to call our attention.
"I'm more nervous than I thought!" Ames exclaims.
"It's going to be amazing!" several people pipe up.
"You haven't seen it?" Evie asks.
Ames shakes her head. "Not the final cut. And I happen to care about your guys' opinion so please be gentle!"
"We're going to love it!" I scream from the back.
"That's right," Saint says. "We're all going to love it.
Because you're incredible, Ames, and when you cook, you glow.
I have full confidence the cameras will pick up on that, the same way they did on that Christmas special we did together almost a year ago.
The same way I did when I met you years ago. "
"Hear, hear!" Bear exclaims.
Saint gives Ames a quick kiss. "I hope you enjoy every second of it, Divina."
"That's very sweet," Mariana whispers at my side.
It doesn't sound like she's talking to me, as much as just thinking out loud. Saint and Ames sit in one of the sofas nearest to the screen, and the video starts playing. An instrumental melody fills the space, with different shots of Ames and food introducing the show.
Saint brings Ames close to him with an arm around her shoulders, and gives her a kiss on the temple.
"Yeah," I say in the same tone. "They're very sweet together."
The opening credits end, and Ames grins wide to the camera from behind a working countertop. She introduces herself and the show, but it's hard to listen when everyone is applauding and whooping in encouragement.
We're still applauding when Mariana adds more. "Amazing how they fit five sofas in this space."
We keep our voices low. Her ample hips cushion against mine, with her thick thighs parallel to mine.
Our arms press together, and I lift the one next to her and put it on the back of the couch.
It could be a move, if I wanted her closer, but I push it back so I don't touch her.
Lest she thinks I'm trying the same thing Saint just did with Ames.
I'm not. I'm just trying to make space for us.
"I think it works," I say. "Even if it's a squeeze up here on the terrace. No one seems to mind."
"No. Look at them." She smirks. "They're all cuddling."
She's right. Every single couple on the terrace is touching in some way, leaning toward each other, exuding affection. Meanwhile, Mariana and I keep as much of a respectful distance as we can manage in the tight space.
"Your presence on the screen is lovely," Evie says to Ames. "I feel like I'm sitting right there with you cooking."
"You're stealing every shot, Ames," Mariana exclaims.
My couch partner keeps a perfect position on her side. Her hands rest on her lap, glass between her fingers. It pushes her breasts together, and I shouldn't be looking, but the gooseflesh breaking on her skin draws my eyes despite myself.
In another life, I could lend her the heat of my body. I could have brought her close, nuzzled into her hair, and asked her if she wanted my sweater. None of that can happen tonight.
"Do you want a blanket?" I ask.
If she covers herself I don't have to see her cold, or have this need to fix it coursing through me.
"No, I'll be fine." Her volume is only for me again. "Thanks."
I want to insist, but I don't. She knows what she needs, and I need to stop trying to step in and take care of her. It's been a long time since I had that privilege, and I promised I'd stop. Elevator and video call slip ups notwithstanding. I'm in the process of letting go.
Like the universe conspires to make me think of love while I have Mariana within reach, Ames talks about it in her show.
On the screen, words of connection and bonding call us in.
In my mind, I have to block them. The part that could engage with it hid from me as soon as Mariana was gone, and even more so after that call, never to be found again.
Like without this woman sitting by my side, there's no point in attempting any of that.
Convinced that Mariana is the only one who holds the key into that part of my heart.
Fuck. I'm slipping.
We're doing that a lot, aren't we? Slipping.
She said that to me only a few days ago.
I gaze out the transparent sections on the tent and watch the rain fall on the city.
Shit, I'm being a bad friend. I'm more focused on how to survive Mariana's proximity and what it's doing to me, than on my friend's brand new show.
It's just… seeing my friends gaze at their person with devotion triggers a wave of loneliness I did not expect.
It courses through me like the tides, and I'm not sure how to swim in it.
I interlock my fingers behind my head and sigh. Pain and longing direct the emotional stage inside of me. When I loved Mariana, this feeling was unknown to me. But it blooms now, full of spikes and overwhelming, when she leans a little closer to me.
My heart beats fast. In another world, she did it on purpose. In another timeline, I bring her to me and put my arm around her. I kiss the crown of her hair, with the same ease my friends kiss their partners.
Worst of all is that I'd be happy to just hold her hand.
Enough. It's fine. I'm just in my feelings because I'm getting such a quiet look at my friends and the person they love.
And maybe having quick sex with Mariana brought back the good things we used to have together.
It shouldn't be that big of a deal. Just because she watches the show with a wistful look that echoes the emotions in my chest, and her profile makes my breath hitch, and I'm missing her while she sits next to me, it doesn't mean we can rewind and replay what we had.
This pain is just a sliver of what the heartbreak was like, when she left and then when she hung up on me. If I'm not careful, I'm bound to end up back there a third time.
I mask everything once the show ends. I grin and toast Ames with my friends, and we praise her for a long while, until she's glowing just like she did on her show.
When we move inside for dinner, I end up next to Mariana again.
Fun. Exactly what I needed. More chances to experience the contrast between what I could have had, what I lost, and the little I have today. Enough of those, and I may question if I have a right to be proud of myself at all.
"Sorry. Logistics," Ames explains.
"All good," I say, and help Mariana onto her seat.
Mariana thanks me. Glasses are filled. Everyone gets comfortable.
Saint smiles at us from across the table. "If it's a problem, the solution is easy. You two have to pair up."
"It's not a problem at all." Mariana keeps her tone light. "But we're not going to date. Our relationship was a long time ago."
At least now we're on the same page, and we're telling my friends exactly what to expect. We can be a united front. A faint ghost of what was between us, finally leading in the right direction.
I'm glad until I see the winning smile on my friend's face.
"I didn't say 'date each other’," Saint says. "Why would you think that's what I meant?"
Fuck. That's also where my mind went.
I narrow my eyes at him. "Don't start."
"You're on a break, I know." He lifts a hand in a quick apology. "Sorry. I'll stop now."
"Mariana," Ames says. "You mentioned wanting to date a lot. How's that going?”
"Not good," she replies. "I've been too busy with work to figure it out. New city, big goals, and I'm not going to lie, maybe a touch of culture shock. Work demands more of me than I expected. If I'm having fun, it's thanks to you all, not to the dating scene."
"I never found dating to be fun," Pen says. "So I don't blame you for not prioritizing it. But I think the key to romance is who you pick."
Bear responds right away. "Who you pick? Sometimes you have no choice."
"Falling in love isn't accidental." Pen frowns. "Or just chance."
"But you also can't simply point a finger at someone and decide you'll fall in love," Leon argues.
"It's not a thing you control, in any case," Damián says. "Did any of us decide to fall in love? I doubt it."
Nat shrugs. "Maybe the decision is in giving it a chance."
My eyes get stuck on the way she and Damián hold hands. I check the table. Every couple touches each other in some way. All of them, except Mariana and I.
I drink from my wine, and thank the powers that be that the first round of food is leaving the kitchen.
The conversation continues as servers set food in front of us.
It doesn't stop my friends. To them, this is idle conversation.
At the core, it's wanting to know how we feel about things.
I know they want us to be happy, too. But they can be pushy, and I don't want to deal with the things it could force me to confront.
"I fell for Evie before I knew what was happening." Logan frowns. "My reason had little to do with it, but there's not a day I'm not thankful that it happened."
Evie gives him a small kiss. "You're more romantic than anyone could guess."
"But that's not why you gave me a chance or why you love me."
Evie laughs. "Not why I love you, but I love you, and I'm pretty happy that it happened, too."
"Why did you give him a chance, then?" Mariana asks.
I give her a sideways glance. Her question surprises me.
Evie smiles. "He was determined to make me trust him. He said he wanted to be someone I could rely on. In all that time we shared, I couldn't help it. There's a reason why people call it falling."
"What do you guys think about that?" Nat asks in our direction.
Fuck.