Seb
James and I were standing on the front step outside of Roxie and Hallie’s apartment.
I had told James that this was his opportunity to mend things with Hallie.
But I’d really been looking for an excuse to end up here all along.
He’d just unblocked her and all her messages had come flooding through.
I could tell he felt even worse than before as he read how many times she’d tried to contact him, to get her version of what had happened across.
Now, he needed to see her face to face more than ever, to find out if she was telling him the truth.
It was late, the street was quiet, and every sound was sharp, from the hum of the streetlamp, the honk of a cab horn, to my heartbeat thudding in my ears as we approached their apartment. I stared at the building’s door, wondering what the hell I thought I was doing.
When I’d first seen her at Rossi Pizzeria, I’d thought I was imagining things.
I recognized that familiar tilt of her head as she scanned the room, looking for the perfect angle for a photo.
I had thought my mind had conjured her like I had before during one of my drunken stupors, but this time she didn’t vanish when I blinked.
She’d been real. Standing there, smiling at Hallie, pretending I didn’t exist.
I’d taken the hint, of course. Only going so far as to watch her from across the room.
It took everything in me not to get up and walk over to her, to ask her how she was doing.
To tell her how sorry I was, but I stopped myself before I could do that.
Telling her I was sorry had never gotten me far because my words had never really matched my actions.
I’d always been too late, or too careless, or too stubborn to follow through.
So I’d stayed in my seat at Rossi’s, watching her out of the corner of my eye like some coward who didn’t deserve her attention.
And when her eyes would eventually land on mine, a thrill ran down my spine.
There was still some warmth in them. When I’d last seen her at the gallery, she’d been totally closed off to me.
But in the pizzeria, she looked different.
Like she was fighting the urge to walk over to me, sit in the chair opposite, and talk things through.
But then, after she’d taken her photos and eaten with Hallie, she was gone.
Disappeared into the Brooklyn night without looking back.
I could have taken that as the universe giving me one last chance to see her, to be in her presence.
A sort of reward for my penance. But instead, it felt like an opening.
A chance to see her and know my chances weren’t totally spent if I could just prove how much she meant to me.
So here I was, on her front step, pretending this was about James and Hallie when every nerve in my body knew that was a lie. This was about her. It had always been about her.
I thought about what I’d say if she opened the door.
I wanted to tell her I’d thought about her every day since the gallery.
That I hated the way things had ended. That I hated the way we’d always ended—like we’d run out of time before we’d even started.
I wanted to tell her I’d stopped drinking, and it was the second hardest thing I’d ever done in my life, next to not being able to speak to her.
But I also knew that the moment her eyes were on me, all of that would catch in my throat, and I’d end up standing there like an idiot, wondering how she could look both exactly the same and completely different from the girl I used to know.
I flexed my fingers in my pockets, trying to summon all the nerve I possibly could. The door in front of me was just wood and glass, but it might as well have been ten feet of steel. One buzz, and I could be face to face with her again. One buzz, and I could ruin this all over again.
James pressed the button before I could dwell on another thought about how bad this idea was.
“Hello?” Roxie’s voice crackled through the speaker. Her voice was like a spark of lightning that made me stand up taller, breathe in a little deeper, and feel a little less out of control somehow.
“Roxie?” James asked. “Is Hallie home?”
“James? What are you doing here?” Roxie’s voice was defensive, and I expected nothing less from her. She had always been fiercely protective of anyone she cared about.
“I need to speak to Hallie. Is she here?” James asked again.
Roxie let out a long sigh, as if she were debating whether or not continuing this conversation would be good. Finally, she said, “Hold on. I’m coming down.”
When she appeared, without Hallie in sight, James and I had very different reactions. While his shoulders slumped in disappointment, it felt like the oxygen in all of New York City was being sucked away as I laid eyes on her.
Her hair was loose now, a little messy like she’d been running her hands through it.
She wore a soft-looking sweater that hit just below her hips, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and there was a faint smudge of something dark—eyeliner or some other makeup—under her left eye.
Details I shouldn’t notice. But I knew every tiny detail of her face so well. I couldn’t help myself.
She stopped a few feet from us, her gaze flickering between James and me like she was deciding if one of us had dragged the other here against their will. She didn’t linger on me long, but long enough for the world to tilt slightly beneath my feet.
“I tried to call Hallie, but she only ever gave me her work phone number, because of how we met, for the article and everything,” James told Roxie, his words tumbling out. He was nervous. “All my texts are failing, and her phone is disconnected.”
She nodded. “Yeah, she had to turn her work phone and laptop back in when she quit Sophisticate.”
James sucked in a breath. “She really quit. Why?”
“Because her boss has no integrity,” Roxie practically hissed. “She changed Hallie’s article without her consent. She said all those negative things about your family’s restaurant. Hell, she basically published an entirely different article with Hallie’s name attached to it.”
James shook his head like he was trying to make sense of everything but couldn’t quite manage it. He’d spent all this time not speaking to Hallie, so sure she’d betrayed him, for nothing. “But what about the food critic position?”
Roxie crossed her arms over her chest. She glanced over at me before she spoke.
I was trying so hard to figure out what she was thinking.
Whether she was even slightly pleased to see me.
But for once in my life, I couldn’t read her.
“She and I are finally starting our own blog together. We’re still working with our website developers and finalizing branding, but our first review should be up in the next few weeks. ”
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth before I could stop it. She sounded so happy.
I missed seeing her like that.
“Congratulations, Roxie,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I know that was something you’d been hoping you could do.”
Her gaze landed on me again, slowly this time, like she was trying to decide if my words were even worth acknowledging. For a second, I thought I saw something soften in her eyes as the streetlight caught them.
Then she looked away.
Down at the cracked step under her feet, at the small scuff on her boot, anywhere but at me. She let out a long, measured sigh, the kind that seemed to carry years of history.
But when she glanced back up, it was at James instead of me.
“I can’t speak for her, James. I know she tried her hardest to reach you, to explain, and when you shut her out, the guilt nearly overwhelmed her.
She barely got up from our couch for nearly a week, if I’m being honest. I thought I was going to have to call reinforcements in to help me peel her off the cushions and force her to shower.
But,” Roxie paused, and there was that mischievous glint in her eyes that she always used to get right before she would suggest we do something we shouldn’t. “She hasn’t stopped talking about you.”
“Is she home?” James asked once more, this time even more desperately.
Roxie shook her head, and I watched my best friend deflate. “She’s out doing a freelance project while we wait for our business to get off the ground. But I have an idea. How do you guys feel about going to Whiskey Locker tomorrow night?”
Now this was the old Roxie. The one that was fearless, full of wild ideas, and willing to toss caution to the wind if it meant that she was doing the right thing.
It was the part of her I’d always found most infectious.
And I was being included in this wild idea.
She’d said you guys. That had to mean something. So, I went with it.
“When aren’t we there?” I interjected, wanting to take part in her excitement.
But once again, she pretended I hadn’t said anything at all. “I can make sure Hallie is at Whiskey Locker tomorrow night. If that’s something you’d want?”
“Yes,” James replied without hesitation. “I want a chance to speak to her, to apologize, if she’ll let me.”
“Then let’s make that happen. For the both of you, because you look miserable and it’s a real vibe killer, if I’m being honest.”
I watched Roxie’s grin, the familiar spark lighting her face, and couldn’t help the ache that twisted in my chest. She was talking to James, making plans for Hallie, yet all I could think about was how alive she looked in that moment—the way her eyes glistened with mischief, how her smile seemed effortless, and how impossibly real she was.
It took everything in me to back away. Even when her eyes landed on mine for only a moment, I thought I saw her hesitate. I thought I saw a crack in the mask she was wearing. Something soft and fleeting. But then I turned away before I did something stupid.
I tossed an arm over James’s shoulder in support as the two of us headed back to the waiting cab.
“Hey!” Roxie called out to us. We both turned back to see her still standing on the stoop, a vision with the wind whipping through her hair, making her appear goddess-like.
“You know she went to the pizzeria to do the review she agreed with you? She wants it to be our first review on the new website. She asked your family not to tell you until it was published, in case you’d be mad.
But now you’re here, well I think it’s okay that I tell you. ”
James sucked in a breath next to me, and I could feel his body tense underneath my arm. He nodded to Roxie, thanked her, and we left.
As our car pulled away, the city lights blurring past, all I could think about was that I had to either let go of Roxie completely and move on with my life, or become the man that she deserved.
Someone who was full of as much life and kindness as she was.
More than that, it was the man I wanted to be. Not just for her, but for myself.
Subject: I’m So Proud of You
From: princewhittaker98@
To: Roxanne-Kirsten-King@
Roxie,
I saw you tonight at your apartment. It was the first time I’d seen you since the pizzeria and after finding out that you had quit your job at the gallery.
You had this light about you. Your face was lit up, the happiest I’ve seen it in years.
I find your passion inspiring, especially how fiercely you chase after your dreams. Even if the path you choose winds on for longer than you’d prefer.
I’ve strayed so far down my own path, but I’m still hoping I can find my way home. To you.
Sebastian xx