Chapter 4 Madelina
A pileup on the interstate derails my plans to head back to Cinnamon Springs the next day.
I take it as a sign.
Aston and Eva sit across from me, their laughter bubbling over an inside joke that I can’t quite grasp. I release a loud exhale, a dramatic reminder that I’m perched at the breakfast bar, and any inappropriate antics should definitely be kept between themselves.
As I lazily glance around the apartment with growing boredom, I can’t help but think about how much life has changed since I called off my wedding.
Aston’s life took an unexpected turn. It was enough for my father to reveal the truth of Aston’s paternity. A secret he’d selfishly kept to protect his reputation. My mother had an affair with some man, and for all his life, my father pretended Aston was his son.
My father had reigned over everything, but Aston, with his sharp instincts, saw the writing on the wall.
Aston channeled his earnings into smart investments during his time working for my father. So much so, he could stand on his own two feet without my father’s assistance. He swapped his opulent penthouse for this quaint apartment, a space that is less than half the size of his former place.
This bespoke loft, inviting and warm, carries a charm that stands out amid the bustling streets of Greenwich Village.
The combined living and dining area has an L-shaped brown leather sofa, paired with a velvet olive-colored armchair.
The couch is so comfortable, I fell asleep on it last night while watching reruns of The Office.
At one point, I think I was laughing in my sleep when Michael burned his foot on a George Foreman grill while making bacon in bed.
A giant flat-screen television dominates the main wall, which doesn’t surprise me since Aston is obsessed with sports.
Watching anything sports-related is my least favorite thing to do, unless, of course, it’s hockey.
The players stretching and warming up before a game does things to me I didn’t think were possible.
A round dining table is situated near the large window, opening onto a small terrace.
The morning sun shines through the apartment windows, illuminating the space and reminding me it will be another hot day in the city.
On a beach in France, the heat is welcome.
In a city with over eight million people, it’s just downright uncomfortable.
“I was thinking,” I begin, quickly swallowing a piece of toast smothered in jelly.
A few crumbs drop into the cleavage of the white tank top I am wearing, but I ignore them and continue, “There are a few things I want to take care of today in the city. Do you guys mind if I crash for another night?”
“Mi casa es su casa.” Aston grins annoyingly.
Eva furrows her brows. She’s been overprotective since the moment I got here, fussing over me like I’m some broken baby bird. “You can’t avoid going back forever. What exactly do you need to do today?”
“Just stuff,” I mumble, lowering my gaze. “Work stuff.”
“I thought you quit?”
I shake my head. “A leave of absence. I mean, I tried to quit, but Esmerelda, my boss, insisted I take a break without making any rash decisions.”
Aston nods, then takes a sip of his coffee. He likes his Americano with an extra shot. I cringe at the bitterness of his choice.
“It makes sense. You love it there.”
“I did love it there.” My voice drops to almost a whisper. “But, you know, Myles is still there. At least, I think he is.”
A familiar silence enters the conversation. I bite into the remainder of the toast, the crunch echoing among our absent words.
“You can’t avoid Myles forever,” Eva points out.
My eyes slowly lift, acknowledging the reality of the situation. I wasn’t the one who told him it was over. It was Aston. I was, and still am, a coward. “Of course, I know that. I just… I just don’t know what to say.”
Eva sighs, then leans her elbows on the breakfast bar. “You can start with the truth. When Aston ran into him—”
I raise my hand, shaking my head. “You ran into him and didn’t tell me?”
Of all the ridiculous things Aston and Eva have told me, how the hell has this not come up?
Aston closes his eyes, then opens them to glare at Eva. She shrugs, then crosses her arms as if to say, I warned you this would happen.
“About a month ago, I saw him at a dinner,” he answers with reluctance.
“A dinner?” My tone escalates as the knot in my stomach tightens. “Did the two of you have dinner?”
“No,” Aston rushes. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. You’re getting worked up over nothing.”
“Um, excuse me for wanting to know how my ex-fiancé is doing after I left him at the altar!” I stare back at him coldly, unapologetic for raising my voice.
“God, Aston, you’re such a jerk for keeping this from me.
I mean, how did he look? Did he ask about me?
Where is he now? What happened to the production schedule after I left? ”
Across from me, Aston presses his lips shut, waiting for me to calm down. “See, again. This is why I didn’t tell you. What does it matter how he looked?”
I glance at Eva, who nods in obvious agreement with me. “I asked the same questions.”
“Both of you are crazy,” Aston drags a cloth over the counter, distracting me with his obsessive need to clean the kitchen while we’re in the middle of the single most important conversation ever. “For the record, he looked normal.”
“Normal?” I repeat in a high-pitched voice. “Like there were no dark circles around his eyes? A hunch in his back? Any obvious sign of depression?”
“Jesus Christ, Madelina. It’s not a romance novel you’re reading. He looked like a man who had kept himself well intact for the sake of showing his face again. There, happy?”
My shoulders slump under the weight pressing against my chest. No matter which way I try to spin it in my head, hurting Myles doesn’t get any easier.
Eva places her hand gently on my arm. “You did the right thing, despite what Myles may or may not look like right now. It was never going to be easy, but I promise one day you’ll wake up, realize Myles is better off, and accept you did the right thing.”
I’m waiting for that day, though I feel like it’s never going to happen. I nod out of necessity, then blurt out, “Right. Like with you and what’s-his-name?”
Aston stops wiping the counter, crossing his arms with a sudden coldness. “What’s whose name?”
“Olly… Oliver,” I stumble with a knowing smile. “God, he was hot. A soccer player, too.”
Eva remains quiet, but her unrelenting stare is warning me to shut the hell up. I know how to push my brother’s buttons when needed.
“Oh, so another ex? A soccer player, huh?” Aston throws his questions at Eva with jealousy lacing every word. “When was this?”
I purse my lips with satisfaction. “So many questions. It’s not a romance novel, Aston. He was a well-endowed, famous Australian soccer player. There, happy?”
“Maddy!” Eva shrieks, then buries her head in her hands.
Sitting in front of me is my phone. I pick it up and glance at the time. It’s just after eight and the perfect time to escape. “I guess I’d better get out of here. Big day ahead of me.”
“I’m coming with you,” Eva hisses through her gritted teeth.
“Uh, no, you’re not,” Aston says. “We’re not finished discussing this.”
“You have a meeting in twenty minutes. Remember work? Your mistress who demands all your time?”
“You hate sports,” Aston mumbles beneath his breath.
I slide off the stool. “Okay, now I’m really out of here.
” With my purse in hand, I exit the apartment faster than you can say trainwreck.
Both of them are stubborn at the best of times, so this was never going to end well.
I should feel guilty for causing an unnecessary fight, but it serves my brother right, since he kept his encounter with Myles from me.
As I step outside the building, the warm air sweeps past in a breeze, but it’s quickly accompanied by an unwelcome odor that makes me wrinkle my nose.
Despite the foul scent, I choose to walk over to Broadway instead of hailing a cab or boarding the subway.
The long walk will clear my mind, and I have nothing else to do.
In the distance, a siren wails, blending in with the blare of horns.
Being back in the city keeps my mind occupied.
Everywhere you look, something is happening.
From the groups of young kids off to school, to the corporate men in suits on their cell phones.
On the corner of the street, a hot dog vendor is arguing with a man.
Their loud voices barely make a noise in the hum of the city.
Across from them is a coffee shop. I decide to join the impatient patrons waiting in line, knowing coffee is essential if I intend to last the day without crashing out from jet lag again.
After the girl at the counter calls my name, I take my coffee and continue my walk to the Greystone Theater. The warm aroma awakens my senses, enticing me to lean in and take a sip. The rich yet slightly bitter roast is exactly what I crave.
By the time I’m standing in front of the old building, which once felt like a second home, my cup is empty, but my stomach is full of knots.
I can stand here and pretend it will be easy, or I can run away like a coward.
What if Myles is inside? This will be our first encounter since the wedding.
My speech isn’t prepared, nor is my lengthy explanation as to why I chose to humiliate him in front of his friends and family.
Or, for that matter, the entire world.
I even slacked off by wearing a simple tank and a short denim skirt, paired with my Dunks as usual. My hair took a beating from all the time in the ocean, so I threw it up into a bun—also to avoid it clinging to the sweat on the back of my neck.
Nothing about me screams I have my life together, just in case I run into Myles and he thinks I’ve moved on so easily.
I close my eyes. “Just do it. Rip the Band-Aid off.”