“I do like Dr. Glass, but I hate therapy, I really do. I just want to be able to deal with my anger in a way that doesn’t hurt anybody. Or things.”
I put my hand on his face.
“Does that change anything for you?” he asks, sounding so vulnerable it makes me want to bake cookies for him immediately.
I shake my head and kiss him. “Lucky for you, I’ve spent a lot of my life with a secret crush on Dallas Winston.”
“Thank God.” He kisses me back. “Wait—who?”
“He’s a character from The Outsiders. You must have read it in school.”
“Wait—he’s the one who was an actual criminal who was in gangs.”
“Well, I’m not literally comparing you to him. It’s just… Okay, if I’m being honest, it was more Matt Dillon from the movie.”
“Matt Dillon? You could run into him like at any time around New York. I always see him around.”
“You do…? Wait, are you jealous of my crush on early-eighties Matt Dillon?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t want anyone else touching you.”
“I don’t want anyone else touching you.” I kiss him again.
He starts to pull my top off.
“Wait, wait.” I kiss him three more times and then stop. “I have to ask one more thing.”
He says nothing. Just waits for it while staring hungrily at my mouth.
“Do you really think it was fate that we met?”
“Well, I’ve never been this lucky. And my karma can’t be that great.”
I wrap my arms around him and hold him so tight.
I feel so much love and desire for him, I have to check the skin on my arms because it feels like it should be oozing out of me. I can’t possibly contain it all. Immediately following this rush of love is a fear that makes me ashamed. I feel ashamed that I can’t get past the fear. I’m angry at myself, my first boyfriend, at Sadie and Russell for doubting that what I have with Vince is anything more than a rebound. He deserves so much pure love, and I want to give it to him, but what I have right now is a potent cocktail of emotions. If I cut myself, I am certain that my blood would be bright blue, the color of the Adios Motherfucker he made me that first night. The fact that I have even had that thought terrifies me and my whole body is shivering.
“Nina,” he says, rubbing my arms. He rests his forehead against mine. “Nina, I—”
I cover his lips with mine and kiss him.
No more words.
I can’t take any more.
24
Vince
Dr. Glass doesn’t seem anywhere near as surprised as I am that I called to schedule an appointment ASAP once I got back home.
“So, I decided to keep seeing Nina. The ex-fiancée of the guy that Sadie’s been dating.”
She nods once and blinks, but this is also no surprise to her. “How’s that going?”
“It’s good, actually. Really good. It might even be great…” I have this huge grin on my face that probably looks idiotic and my knee’s bouncing up and down like it always does when I’m here. “I had a talk with my dad last night. About wanting to become a partner someday. At his firm.”
She smiles and makes a note. “That is quite significant.”
“I know. It means more training. Then I’d be Senior VP and then partner. I used to want to keep my options open, you know? In case some other career opportunity came along that was more interesting to me. But now I’m not afraid to go all-in with the family business. Especially if it means more money. Even if it means more responsibility.” I have to take a breath before I continue, but I look up at Dr. Glass, and I know she knows what I’m going to say next. “I want to be able to provide for someone someday. Not someone. Nina. Just her. I’m in love with her. I’m so fucking head-over-heels in love with her, I just… Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for swearing. Especially in that context. Have you told her how you feel?”
“Not in so many words. I almost did. I want to. I don’t want to scare her off.”
“I’m sure that wouldn’t be an issue. Being told ‘I love you’ tends to be a pleasant experience for most well-adjusted women. And Nina sounds like a very stable person.”
“She is. Definitely. She’s all the good things. You don’t think things are happening too fast?”
“I didn’t say that… Regardless… All in good time. It’s lovely to see you feeling this way. I’m happy for you.”
“I like feeling this way. I do. But I also hate it.”
“How so?”
“I mean, you know me. I’m a confident guy.”
“Sure.”
“And it’s not that she makes me feel insecure; it’s just that I feel like I need to be better for her. But I might not get the chance.”
“Why wouldn’t you get the chance?” She slowly leans forward, trying not to appear too excited about where this conversation is going. I can tell.
“Because. Like an idiot, I told her at first that we should just spend the summer together. You know. A summer rebound. Two months seemed like a long time to commit to something that was obviously a bad idea.”
“And now?”
“Now I keep looking at the calendar, and it’s like each day that we get closer to each other, we’re also getting closer to the end. I feel like time’s running out.”
“I see.” She is scribbling madly in her notebook. “Vince… Can you think of another situation in your life when you felt like time was running out with someone you loved?”
I roll my eyes, even though this thought—that thought has been there. Some ghost that I’ve learned to live with and stay two steps ahead of. But for the past couple of months, it has slowly been catching up to me. And it’s up to me to finally stop and turn around and face it. “You mean when my mom was dying?” I say, scoffing. “It is so not the same thing. Not even close. Why would you say that?”
Okay, so today is not the day for me to face it.
“Perhaps I misspoke. I don’t mean that the situation is the same. But the feelings that are coming up…”
I wince.
“Do you see how this is an abandonment issue?”
I don’t answer her. If this is supposed to be an aha moment, it’s pretty underwhelming.
She sighs and continues. “Vince, we all have abandonment issues to some degree. We all have different coping mechanisms for dealing with loss. Being in a serious relationship brings up all of our feelings, all of our issues, and it’s not a bad thing. They have to come up so that we can recognize them and deal with them. Sometimes, we even subconsciously create situations that will move this process along. But we need to find an effective way of dealing with them. Even when you’re happy. Especially when you’re happy. So we can ensure that you have the proper tools for when you get…not happy.”
Not happy. This is what she gets paid two hundred bucks per forty-five minutes for.
“Please let me help you find what works for you. I can give you this early morning slot if you’d like. We could do once a week—but I recommend twice a week to start. Because things tend to get stirred up.”
Decent sales pitch. Cut to the chase. Clear call to action. Not too pushy… I drop my head back and groan like Charlie when it’s bedtime. What a fucking drag.
But I will do this. I will do this for Nina. At this point, it’s pretty much the grandest gesture I can make, and it will be so boring. It will suck ass, and she probably won’t even know I’m doing it for her.
But I’m gonna. I’m gonna get those proper tools for when I get not happy. Even though it’s hard to believe I’ll ever be not happy again.
“Yeah,” I say to Dr. Glass with mild enthusiasm. “Let’s do this. I’ll take this slot. Twice a week. To start.”
25
Nina
“It sounds like a French movie,” Marnie says, almost out of breath. “One I’d actually want to watch.”
“Well, it wasn’t like that at all. It was more like an
indie horror film.”
“Did Russell show you his tattoo?”
Marnie is entirely too obsessed with this, and I really shouldn’t have told her. But who else can I talk to about this? Also, we’re out for a morning jog, and she promised we could stop for gelato if I tell her what I so clearly did not want to tell her about the weekend getaway.
“Of course not. I’d really rather not see Russell’s private tattoo.”
“Obviously we have to listen to every Amy Winehouse song and figure out what line it is.”
“Marn. Promise me you won’t tell anyone at school about any of this.”
“Please. Have you ever heard me gossip about anything with anyone other than you?”
“No. Oh my God, it’s so humid. Can we take a break?”
“Yeah. For one minute only.”
We slow down to pace around and replenish fluids at an intersection.
“What does Sadie look like, though? Because now I’m picturing like, a young blonde Angelina Jolie.”
I love Marnie, but I glare at her.
“Sorry. I’m sure you’re way more beautiful—that goes without saying.”
“She’s like the shark in Jaws. At first, she was just this scary unknown thing lurking beneath the surface, and now she’s bigger and scarier than I’d ever imagined.”
“Ugh. You’re gonna need a bigger boat.”
“Exactly.”
“Aww, honey. But you guys are in love. That’s the biggest boat there is.”
“I don’t know if we are.”
“You are.”
“I’m so in love with him,” I whisper, like I’m admitting defeat. “I’m a total basket case.”
I shake my head, glancing across the street…and suddenly, I can’t breathe.
“What?” Marnie follows my gaze.
I bolt over behind the entrance to the store on our corner, already drowning in adrenaline and cortisol. I wave Marnie over in a panic.
“What? What is happening?”
I shush her. Vince is unlocking the door to an empty restaurant space across the street, and Sadie is standing next to him. I can’t speak.
“Oh fuck—is that Vince? Oh shit—is that Jaws?”
I cover my mouth. I may throw up. I peek around and see Vince go into the restaurant. Sadie follows him.
Marnie steps out, hands on her hips, staring across the street. “Honey, honey… Come on. This doesn’t mean anything. She probably just showed up and he can’t get rid of her.”
“Can you see them? Can you see inside?”
“No. The door’s closed and the windows are papered-over most of the way.” She shakes her head. “This is dumb. You’re getting all worked up and it’s probably nothing. Let’s go over there.”
“I can’t move. I can’t breathe.”
“Honey.” She comes over to rub my back. “Come on. In. Out. In. Out.” She reminds me how to inhale and exhale. “Good girl. You got it. Sweetie, I hate to see you like this.”
“I knew this was going to happen.” I bend forward to rest my hands on my knees. “I knew it.”
“Okay—I’ll go look first.”
“Marnie, no!” I hiss.
Too late.
I watch her jog across the street and slink up between the front door and window of the restuarant, peering inside through the glass of the door. When I see how quickly she jerks her head back, when I see the look on her face, I want to die. The tightness in my chest is unbearable. The only thing worse is the feeling in my stomach. She jogs back and grabs my arm. “Let’s go.”
“Just tell me.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Marnie—just tell me.”
“Let’s go over here…” She drags me along. When we get about a block away in the opposite direction, she pulls me around the corner and pulls no punches: “She was trying to kiss him. But he was resisting her. I promise you, he was totally resisting her and pushing her away. She was all over him, but he was pushing her away and that’s what matters. Look at me, honey. Look at me.”
I somehow manage to lift my eyes to her concerned face. It’s the same face she has when one of her kids or students has fallen down. She’s not denying that it might hurt, but she doesn’t want to make it worse by freaking out.
“It’s okay,” she says. “I would tell you if I thought it looked like he was into it, and he was not. Definitely not. I’m sure he will tell you about it later and you’ll both laugh about what a little drama queen you were about absolutely nothing.”
I try to concentrate on Marnie’s face. I do trust her. I don’t trust Sadie. But right now I don’t know if I trust Vince, and that’s what’s killing me.
I told Vince that I was too tired to do anything last night, which was certainly true. But I was mostly exhausted from crying so much. I am fully aware that this is about six years’ worth of tears that I have to get out of my system and only some of it has to do with Vince. But I got no sleep. I’m exhausted.
I’ve agreed to meet him for lunch at the Italian restaurant where I gave him the Rumi book. I didn’t want him to come to my apartment. There are too many places he could kiss me there, and it would make me lose my resolve.
I can control a room full of six-year-olds. It should be so much easier for me to control my own brain. But I can’t. Not since I first laid eyes on Vince Devlin.
My eyes have puffy gray bags under them today. There isn’t enough concealer in the world to hide them or enough lip gloss to detract from them. All I can do is wear sunglasses and hope that I don’t burst into tears and shoot snot out of my nose as soon as I see him.
I get to the restaurant five minutes earlier than our agreed-upon time so I can get settled and calm myself down.
Un, deux, trois—fuck.
He got here before me. The hostess points in his direction. He’s sitting at a corner table on the patio. He looks nervous. Nervous and beautiful and completely capable of destroying my heart with one look.
He sees me and smiles, stands up. I let him kiss my cheek and hold out my chair for me. When I sit down, a small, sad sigh escapes me.
“Hey you,” he says. “I missed you yesterday.”
I don’t remove my sunglasses because I’m already tearing up. I nod. “I missed you too.” The words come out soft and gravelly.
“Are you getting a cold?”
“Maybe.”
“You should get their minestrone soup.” He looks so worried about me. It’s too sweet. He rubs his lips together. I have this feeling he needs to tell me something, and I just want him to get it over with.
“I just saw my dad. He said that Charlie wants me to tell you that book was a big hit with his girlfriend.”
“She’s not his girlfriend,” I whisper.
“She will be soon enough. He’s a Devlin.” He grins.
I shift around in my chair.
“You gonna take your sunglasses off?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you okay?”
I take a breath. “How’ve you been? How was your day yesterday?”
“Weird.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I had so many calls about a property that I just listed. More than I was expecting.”
“Oh yeah? Did you…have showings? At the property?”
“Yeah. What’d you get up to? I missed you. I told you that.”
Our waitress comes to take our order, but I haven’t looked at the menu yet. He orders me a minestrone soup and hot tea. He’s being so sweet, it’s terrible. When the waitress leaves, he reaches across the table to pull my sunglasses off my face.
“Whoa.” He stares at my pink, swollen, damp eyes.
I can’t look at him anymore.
“Shit,” he says under his breath. “What is it?”
“Umm…” I wipe away a tear. There’s no one seated immediately around us and no reason to put off this conversation. I stare at the center of the table as I speak. “I’ve been thinking… We should
have a little time-out. Take a break. I just need to be on my own for a little bit to sort through my feelings. And I don’t want to speak for you, but maybe you could do the same.”
“Why would we do that?”
“It’s not you, Vince. I promise. It’s just…difficult to overcome the circumstances in which we met.”
“I don’t see why it matters how we met. You met your principal the normal boring way, and look how that turned out.”
Always the great debater.
“I just think we should take a break before things get too serious.”
He is quiet for a long time before saying, “Well then, darlin’…you are way too late.” I finally glance up at him, and the look he gives me breaks my heart in two, but it wasn’t the stoic one I was expecting. He looks heartbroken. “Why is this happening?”
“Vince…it was bound to happen eventually, you know that.”
“Why is this happening now?”
“I saw you. Yesterday morning. With Sadie.”
He doesn’t even blink. “Nothing happened. I mean, she was trying something, but I didn’t… You don’t trust me?”
“Were you going to tell me that you saw her?”
“No, Nina. That’s not what I was going to tell you today. I don’t give a fuck about Sadie—I’ve had so much on my mind that seeing her barely even registered in my brain. This can’t be about that.”
“Well, I do give a fuck about Sadie. And about Russell, and about you. And I want to be able to only give a fuck about you and me. But I need some time on my own so I can think about everything that’s happened. It’s a lot, Vince. It was fast.”
“You said you aren’t mad at him anymore.”
“I’m not, but I never had time to process the breakup either. I was with him for three years. I was engaged to him. I may not have been in love with him, but it mattered.”
Our of the corner of my eye, I see the waitress heading toward us with my soup and tea, but as soon as she catches our body language, she turns on her heels, pretending to have forgotten something, and goes back inside.
“Are you telling me you still have feelings for him? Is that why you’re worried about me and Sadie—you’re projecting?”
The Brooklyn Book Boyfriends Page 18
