by J. Saman
My eyes glide up the brick façade of her building and I wonder what she’s doing. She could be with Mason now for all I know. Even if she’s not, it doesn’t matter. I was a fool to imagine I could try for something real with her. I want to trust her. But I don’t. Running into Kelly just brought it all home for me. Everyone I have ever trusted has lied to me. Anyone I ever put myself out there for, has let me down.
I think I’d rather take a bullet to the head than put myself in that position again.
I lost Logan. And then I lost Kelly and Grace. If I lose Gia after having her, well, that will be it for me. I know it will. I’ll never make it back from that. I’ll end up like my father.
An angry alcoholic who only found joy in hurting others.
I refuse to turn into that. And I refuse to hurt Gia any more than I already have.
So I leave Gia’s street and I flag down a passing cab and I go home.
But I’m not even safe here. The moment I walk in my front door, I spy Gia’s Christmas present sitting on the island in my kitchen. I bought her an Apple Watch because she doesn’t have a watch and she was complaining she should probably get one. I got her one with a lavender sports band for work and a pretty leather band which I think she’ll like for when she’s out.
But I didn’t stop there because her iPhone is old and she’s too lazy and indifferent to get a new one. But I wanted her to have a new one because I want her to have the best of everything. Even if that will never include me.
I was eager to see the expression on her face when I gave it to her, but now I’m thinking it’s best if I send it. I can’t return it. I want her to have it too damn badly. Have this small piece of me, like the mug I gave her for her birthday which she uses for her coffee.
I need to sever all ties and go back to my small world which Gia Bianchi is not a part of.
I knew how to do that life. How to live in a world with nothingness and emptiness. I can do it again. A place where I’m untouchable.
Chapter 34
Gia
My eyes close slowly, my exhaustion catching up to me the way it’s apt to do when you’ve been working too much and sleeping too little. I swear, I could fall asleep right here in line.
“You want your usual, Gia?” Josephine, the barista in the small coffee shop off the main corridor of the hospital asks me.
“Yes please,” I say through a yawn. “It was one hell of a shift.”
She smiles at me, no doubt having heard the same words from many others who frequent this shop. Moving back so I’m not in the way while I wait, I accidentally step on someone’s foot. Turning around, I apologize to the woman and then shift off to the side. My eyes flutter shut as I lean my head against the wall of the shop.
Tonight is Christmas Eve which also means it’s Monique’s and Mike’s Christmas party.
Chloe is coming too so it should be fun, but I think at this point, I’d much prefer to go home, have a bath and a glass of wine and go to sleep. I can’t though. I promised I’d go. Which means, I need to suck it up and deal. Hence the caffeine.
“You look tired,” Finn says, but I refuse to open my eyes to him until I can get control of the sudden pounding in my chest his voice elicits. I inwardly sigh. I wish he would have continued on without talking to me. Finn is much easier to manage if I avoid him and he avoids me.
“I am,” I reply. “But thanks for pointing that out. You do know when people say you look tired, they’re basically telling you that you look like shit.”
Finn chuckles and I ignore the way that sound makes me feel. The way I get chills from it every damn time like a Pavlovian response or something. It’s been fucking weeks, you’d think by this point I would be further along than I am with this whole getting-over-Finn thing. But I have yet to reach a steady state with this.
“You don’t look like shit. Just tired. Beautiful and tired.”
I sigh, because that’s just infuriating. Pick a side, Finn and stick with it.
Slowly opening my eyes to him, I want to sigh all over again, but for a different reason. It’s been over three weeks since I’ve seen him and it’s like no time has passed. My feelings and emotions are still what they were when he walked out of my apartment that day. I want to be angry at him for this, but I’ve been finding that emotion nearly impossible to conjure up.
I’m more sad than anything else and a lot of that sadness is for him.
“Gia,” the barista calls out my name, but before I can move to get my coffee and get the hell out of here, Finn steps forward and retrieves it for me, holding it and me hostage. I’m tempted to leave them both here, but I need that freaking coffee, dammit.
“You’re not typically an evening coffee drinker,” he says, handing me my to-go cup. “Hot chocolate?”
Does he have to smirk at me? Maybe I should ask him to stop doing that. It’s distracting and counterproductive.
“No. Coffee. Just plain old coffee.” Not even cappuccino.
“How come, Gia.”
“Because, Finn, I’m going to the Christmas party in a couple hours and as you were so gracious enough to point out, I’m tired.”
“And beautiful,” he says, stepping into me. “I believe I said you were also beautiful.”
“Stop flirting. You’re not allowed to flirt with me anymore.”
“How’s Mason,” he asks, and right now, I want to punch him in his nose. On that small bump which gives him just the right amount of character. I bet it was broken once before and that’s why it’s there, so if I punch him directly on that spot, I’m liable to break it again.
“He’s in Denver,” is all I say because I really wouldn’t know how Mason is, because I haven’t spoken to him since I broke up with him weeks ago. I hated to do it, but it needed to be done.
It just drove home how unfair life is. How unjust it can be. Mason cares about me. He loves me, a fact he threw out when he was asking me not to end things. He was my boyfriend and had zero issues committing to that. He was all for it.
Finn is perpetually the opposite of this. Yes, Finn said he loves me, but he doesn’t want me the way Mason does. He doesn’t want that love to proliferate. He doesn’t want commitment.
But the fucked-up thing is, I want Finn. But I can’t have Finn and Mason deserves so much more than second best. Than being the consolation prize. He deserves someone who is one hundred percent invested.
I am not that person.
And sure, I could have stayed with him. Ridden things out. Hoped that Mason eventually eclipsed Finn. But I won’t use him like that. It’s not Mason’s fault.
It’s mine.
If I had never accepted that birthday present, things would be different. If I had never begged him to come to dinner with my mother and George. If I had never asked him to be friends or gone to the ballgame or flirted or returned his texts or had lunch with him every damn day, none of this would have happened. I would have met Mason and I would be happy because he’s the type of man any woman would be happy with.
But that’s not what happened and truth be told, I’ve only missed Mason a little. Not a lot. Not enough that I would ever consider going back to him. But it didn’t end well. It was messy. And sad.
I’ve missed Finn a whole hell of a lot more. Why? I have no clue.
“You’ve been working a lot,” he says, taking another small step into me, playing with my personal space the way he always does.
“How do you know that?” I clip out, wondering why I’m still entertaining this conversation and yet, at the same time, knowing the exact reason why.
Finn smiles, his fingers brushing an errant piece of hair off my face and tucking it behind my ear. I shudder at his touch and cringe at myself for reacting like that.
“Because I check up on you. How else do I know when to leave your cappuccino or hot chocolate?”
“I should go,” I say, taking a step back and bumping into the freaking wall and nearly hitting the fire alarm in the p
rocess. “I have the party to get ready for. You’re not going, right?”
Finn shakes his head slowly. “No. I won’t be there.” His expression turns impossibly dark.
What happened to you, Finn? How did she ruin you? Why did you have to ruin me too?
“Well then, have a good Christmas.”
He looks down at the floor, breathing hard, that dark look only growing more ominous, before he manages to find my eyes again. “You too, Gia. Sorry I’m going to miss seeing you in your gold dress.” He leans in and kisses the corner of my lips, pressing his forehead against mine and then he’s gone. Like he was never there.
But I still feel him.
I wonder if that will ever go away. If time really does heal all wounds, it doesn’t seem to where Finn is concerned.
I walk home in a daze which neither my coffee nor the cold night air helps. The dull ache in my chest is growing more pronounced with each step. The sensation of his touch, his kiss, lingers.
Fucking, Finn. Asshole. Bastard.
That helps a little.
When I reach my front door, I find a package waiting in front of it with a sticky note on top from one of my neighbors.
Intercepted UPS for you. Merry Christmas–Eliza
I have no idea what’s in the box, but I pick it up and bring it inside, setting it down on the counter in my kitchen. Walking into my bedroom, I strip off my nasty scrubs and shower off way too many hours spent in the hospital.
My gold dress is hanging on the outside of my bureau. I stare at it for a minute and wonder what Finn would think of me in it. Then I give myself a mental smack and get to my hair and makeup. Gold eyes to match my gold dress and very minimal lips and cheeks. My hair I’m leaving down, but I use the curling iron to give it some soft waves.
And once I’m fully dressed, I stare at myself in the mirror. I wish I felt as good as I look, because my reflection is pretty damn good. My heels click against my wood floors and just as I’m about to grab my nice coat and head out, I spot that package sitting on my counter and my curiosity gets the better of me.
Opening it up, I find a large white card covering a brand-new iPhone and Apple Watch. I don’t have to open the card to know who these are from. Sometimes I can’t stand how thoughtful he can be. Like those freaking coffees and hot chocolates he still delivers and the birthday present and the fact that he always picks up a tab whenever we went out, leaving a ginormous tip. If I ever had a bad day, he’d call to make sure I was okay, even if he was in the middle of a shift.
And now the new watch and phone.
The bastard even got me a band for work and a band for going out and a pretty lavender phone cover, to match my pretty lavender band, because he knew I lied when I said that bright blue is my favorite color. He knows that it’s lavender. He’s always known.
I haven’t bought him a present. Why would I? Our friendship is long since over. But honestly, even if I was going to get him something, he’s impossible to shop for. He has everything and wants for nothing. What do you get a man like that? My plan had been to cook him a really amazing dinner, because I know that’s the one thing he’s missing and he asked me to that night at Mike and Monique’s.
No one ever cooks for him. No one ever takes care of him.
I wonder if his wife did that for him. Put him first.
I know he came from an abusive home. That his mother isn’t the warmest or kindest woman on the planet. I know he’s an only child. I know he was married for three years and hasn’t been with anyone since, and I know something happened to make him give up on love even though he said he loves me.
Oh, Finn. What happened to you?
And why despite the fact that he ruined me, do I find myself feeling sorry for him?
Yeah, I have no answer for that one.
Finn loves me and he’s throwing away a shot at something incredible. And I don’t know why. He’s never told me. He’s never opened up to me about it.
I don’t know what to do.
Do I call him and thank him? Text him? Send it back?
No, I won’t send it back. I might not understand what’s going on with him, but he obviously put a lot of thought into this gift and wanted me to have it.
Which is exactly why I should send it back.
Setting my new toys down on the counter, I order up my Uber and head out into the cold, dark, Christmas Eve night.
The party is in full swing by the time I arrive and it’s decorated to the nines. Twinkling lights and scented candles and beautiful wreaths. But the showstopper is the Christmas tree. It looks like something out of a magazine.
I could never create something like that. My tree–if I did one–would look like something a second grader put together and that’s if I did a decent job.
I spot Monique and Mike over in the corner, talking with a few other people so I head in that direction. “Hey,” she says, her dark eyes lighting up when she spots me. “There you are. You look gorgeous.” She gives me the up and down once over.
“Thanks,” I say, giving her an air kiss so I don’t get my lip gloss all over her. “You do too and your place looks phenomenal.”
Monique looks over to Mike who bows proudly. “I did good, huh?”
“You did good, Mike.” I pat him on the shoulder.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks, waving his hand over toward the bar.
“Sure, thanks.”
Mike walks with me over to the bar and begins to pour me a cup of some sort of red punch, but before he can hand it to me and leave me to my own devices, I blurt out, “What happened to him?” Mike stands up tall, but if he’s surprised by my question, he doesn’t show it. “I mean,” then I sigh, deflating just a little, “he loves me, Mike. He told me he did. And here’s the kicker, I love him too. But he won’t be with me and I know he hasn’t been in a relationship in three years and I want to know why. I don’t think I can move on until I know it’s never ever going to happen, and maybe if I know why he is the way he is, I’ll understand and stop holding onto something I’ve needed to let go of for months.”
Mike smiles at me and it’s really not the reaction I was expecting from him. “He told you he loves you?”
I nod. “Yeah, but he followed it up with another riveting speech about how he’ll never be with me.”
“Did you tell him you loved him back?”
“Well no, but I don’t think that’s the hold up.”
“No,” he says, rubbing his smooth jawline, “it’s not, but it’s really not my story to tell.”
“But you know it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he says slowly and then he takes my arm, guiding me through the main room past the kitchen where Chloe is. She gives me a bewildered look as I pass her, but doesn’t comment. We step out onto the back deck, into the freezing night and I wrap my arms instinctively around myself to ward off the chill. Mike turns to me, his expression bleak. I’m instantly anxious as to where this is headed. “He told you he was married, right?” I nod. “Did he ever tell you more about Kelly?”
Kelly. I guess that’s her name. Somehow, I imagined it to be more sinister than sorority girl. Something like Maleficent or Wicked Queen.
“No. Just that he hasn’t had a relationship since her.”
Mike nods, his dark eyes piercing into mine for a very long minute before he speaks again.
“Gia, Finn hasn’t had the charmed life everyone who looks at him believes he has. He had a rough upbringing and then his father died and he met Kelly. I’m not going to tell you everything. As I said, it really isn’t my place. But I will tell you Finn lost a piece of himself and then the rest was taken from him. He’s experienced more pain and loss than anyone ever should, and then some. Some men just don’t come back from that. I’m not sure I would.”
Chapter 35
Finn
“Why are you here?” Ophelia says to me as I slide into one of the wooden bar stools across
from her. “Shouldn’t you be at the party with everyone else?”
I shake my head, because no, I shouldn’t be there. I should be exactly where I am. About to drown my many sorrows in a vat of scotch. Because tomorrow is the worst day of the year and this bar isn’t open then, which means I’ll have to suffer through it alone. But I can’t tolerate doing that right now. And I can’t tolerate being around happy people at a Christmas party. I certainly can’t tolerate being around Gia in her gold dress, so here I am.
“Johnny Walker Blue. Four fingers, no ice and you can probably just leave me with the bottle.”
Ophelia gives me the long once over and I wait patiently while she decides if she’s going to aid me in my journey to total self-destruction.
Ophelia is pretty. I’ve always thought so. If I could have gotten away with fucking her and never having to see her again, I might have done that once upon a time. But I like this bar. It’s close to my condo and it’s close to the hospital. And it’s comforting in an inexplicable way.
So I never tried it.
“Coming up,” she finally says. “But you do know it would be like a fourth of the price to just go out and buy the bottle in a store, right?”
“Does it look like I care if I spend five hundred dollars on scotch right now?”
“No,” she says, leaning across the well of the bar so that she can put her elbows on the wood and level me with her eyes. “Money has never been your issue.”
I laugh humorlessly at her choice of words. “You got me there.”
“I’m not stupid enough to think this is all about Gia. I knew you before I knew you with her. But you should know she broke up with that Mason guy weeks ago. So, if by some weird miracle this drinking binge is about her…” she trails off with a shrug.
“My son would have been six tomorrow.”
It’s the first time I’ve said those words out loud. To anyone. The impact of them slams into me with so much force that it knocks the wind out of me and I have to clutch onto the edge of the bar for support.
