Come Alive (The Cityscape Series)

by Jessica Hawkins

  And would it matter if he did? In the end, things were as they were supposed to be. Who was he to me? A mistake. A mark that could never be erased for the entirety of my marriage. Long after I will have forgotten him, he will remain a part of my past.

  Long after I’ve forgotten him . . . . When will that be? How much longer until I forget?

  It felt like a lifetime had passed already since that night. But though I worked hard not to think of him, the way he’d made me feel persisted. When I was near him. When I watched him watch me. Kisses, whispers, sensations in the dark.

  I looked up at the night sky for a long time. In moments like these, I longed to be back in the suburbs of Dallas, where I could lie in the backyard and blanket myself with millions of stars. Tonight there were few. So this is how it goes.

  When a prick of light shot across the sky, leaving a faint silver streak in its path, I didn’t bother making a wish. I just turned and went back inside.

  CHAPTER 3

  GRETCHEN’S FISTS SHOT in the air. “Feel the burn!” she screeched.

  I quickly bit into a lime to abate my tingling jaw. My face scrunched, and I plucked the rind from between my teeth to drop it in the empty shot glass.

  “Nice,” she said. “Three in a row. I’m impressed.”

  I hiccupped and smiled. “I’ll take another Cosmo,” I told the bartender.

  “You’re going to make yourself sick, mixing liquors like that.”

  “I’m no rookie. Are you forgetting who taught you how to drink?”

  “That’s debatable. Still, tequila shots and Cosmos? Gross. And maybe even lethal.”

  I answered her with a shrill laugh that hurt even my own ears. I could almost feel the alcohol eating away at the pit in my stomach. It was just acidic enough to erase the toxicity of my shame for a night. It was relief, sweet and bitter. I took my drink and followed Gretchen back to our booth in the VIP section of the downtown club.

  “Anyway,” Bethany was saying. “That was it for them. After an affair, three years of counseling and two children, it was forgetting to replace the milk that finally did it.”

  Ava shook her head. “So sad. That happened to my colleague, too. One day she came home from work, and her husband said, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ Can you imagine?”

  “Not everyone is as lucky as me and Andrew,” Lucy said, shrugging as though she were helpless to the fact. “We have the kind of romance that most people can only hope for.”

  “It’s true. You guys are soul mates,” Ava said.

  “I know. How sweet is that?”

  I laughed into my Cosmo.

  “What?” Lucy asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” I said after a sip.

  “No, what? Why is that funny?”

  “It’s not funny, it’s just . . . idealistic, I guess.”

  “How so?”

  “I mean, Luce, really? You guys haven’t even walked down the aisle yet. It’s a little early to be so sure.”

  Her mouth parted. “Andrew and I aren’t like those people. We have something unique and special. True romance.”

  “Honey, romance is fleeting,” I said, waving a hand in the air. “When it fades away, you have to know that you and Andrew will still be able to stand each other.”

  “Call me naïve – ”

  “You said it!” I shrieked, giggling by myself.

  “Um,” Lucy continued, “okay, but I don’t think that for us, the romance will ever ‘fade away.’”

  “I agree, Lucy,” Ava cut in. “I think you and Andrew are meant to be. I envy you guys. I can’t wait to meet my soul mate.”

  “There’s no such thing as soul mates, Ava,” I said. “That’s just a bunch of fairytale bullshit. The sooner everyone realizes that, the better.”

  “Liv,” Gretchen warned.

  “What? It’s true. Marriage is work. You’ll see soon enough. That euphoric stage wears off pret-ty quick-ly. I’m not being cynical; it’s science.” When I noticed their frowns, I nodded. “Yep, science. Hormones, oxy- ” I hiccupped, “tocin, and shit like that. Not very romantic, is it?”

  “What about earlier when you went to call Bill?” Lucy countered. “Some might say that was a romantic gesture.”

  I glanced down at the table and took one of those painful breaths, the ones where you feel the simultaneous constricting of everything in your chest. I thought about confessing that I hadn’t gone outside to call Bill, but to remind myself of why things were better off as they were. It was only a brief moment though, and instead, I said, “That exactly proves my point. Being around all of you makes me want to call Bill and tell him that I love him.”

  “Which is romantic,” someone said.

  I nodded. “It is, but why should I have to be reminded of that? Because relationships aren’t always that way. Sometimes you forget that you’re madly in love.” I hiccupped. “Happens to everyone.”

  “Olivia,” Gretchen said again.

  “Sorry, but I don’t want Lucy to be disappointed.”

  “Are you disappointed?” Bethany asked.

  “No, because I learned early on what marriage is about. It’s work. Thinking that it will be easy because it’s ‘true love’ is stupid. That’s just another form of faith for those who can’t deal with reality.”

  “That’s enough,” Dani said.

  I shrugged at her. “Better to be prepared.”

  “I really don’t think Andrew and I are that way,” Lucy said. “We’re – ”

  “Different?” I interjected.

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. “I hope you are.”

  “I mean, I get what you’re saying,” Lucy continued. “I know you and Bill work at your marriage, but I’m excited to work together with Andrew. I love him. There’s no one else I would have wanted to do this with.”

  “Not even Kyle Medley?” I asked, giggling to myself as I took another sip. “Come on, you said the same thing about him in college.”

  “I think you’ve had enough,” Gretchen said, reaching for my drink.

  I recoiled, sloshing pink liquid on my dress. “Damn,” I muttered, swiping at the stain.

  “I didn’t know what love was until I met Andrew,” Lucy said.

  I blinked at her once and then burst into laughter. “Lucy, do you hear yourself? You’re just saying that because to admit otherwise would mean you could be marrying anyone right now. Including Kyle Medley.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I’m making perfect sense! If instead of dumping you, Kyle had proposed, you would have said yes. Hence, the eradication of the soul mates theory. At the time, you thought he was your soul mate. And if you and Andrew broke up and you met someone else, you’d say he was your soul mate.”

  “You’re putting words in my mouth. I never thought Kyle Medley was ‘the one.’”

  My face scrunched under the weight of my skepticism. “Okay,” I said, holding up my hands. “If that’s your story.”

  Lucy’s face etched with worry when she looked from her sister to Gretchen. “So are you saying that Bill isn’t your soul mate?” she asked after a moment.

  “I’m saying the whole ludicrous idea doesn’t exist. And I know Bill would agree with me.”

  “So what do you suggest, that nobody ever get married?” Dani asked.

  I felt my brows crease as I looked at her. “No,” I said emphatically. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Just don’t make it into something it’s not. Obviously Bill and I love each other, and we’re happy and we are building this life together – but to say that it’s this fairytale romance where we make love on a bed of rose petals every night, I mean . . . That’s what Lucy wants.”

  “No I don’t. But Andrew and I share something pure that neither of us could experience with someone else. Romance isn’t exclusive to sex. And even as we get older or fight or have kids, we’ll still have that passion for only each other.”

  I only raised my eyebrows and gripped the tab
le when the room undulated suddenly.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Dani said softly, but not soft enough.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Dani. How long have you been married?”

  “Liv!”

  “It’s fine, Lucy,” Dani said, pursing her lips at me. “She’s right. I’m not married. None of us are, so maybe she has a point.”

  I gave the table a hard nod and pointed to Dani. “See? She knows what’s up.”

  “I’m calling you a cab,” Gretchen said, digging in her purse.

  “Don’t make me the bad guy, Gretchen,” I pleaded, suddenly upset. “I’m just trying to be honest. It doesn’t mean I love Bill any less or that I’m not happy. I am happy. I just want Lucy to be happy, too.”

  Lucy came to sit next to me. I was enfolded in a lavender cloud when she hugged me. “I know,” she said, squeezing my shoulders. “Nobody thinks you’re the bad guy. Everyone is happy.”

  “Good,” I said. “You smell nice.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Thank you.”

  “Do you want me to call her a cab?” Gretchen asked.

  I frowned. “I’m sitting right here.”

  “Actually, I think it might be time to call it a night,” Lucy said. “I don’t want to be puffy on Sunday.”

  Everyone agreed emphatically that they did not want to be puffy either, so Ava and Bethany went to hail cabs while Lucy left for the restroom.

  “You know, you really should keep your marital problems to yourself,” Dani said to me as we settled the bill. “Lucy doesn’t need to hear that a couple days before she walks down the aisle.”

  “I don’t have marital problems.”

  “All the same, don’t spoil this for her. She already worries about you too much when she should be focusing on herself right now.”

  I looked over at Gretchen for backup, but she only shrugged. “She’s probably right, Liv. Remember what we talked about? This weekend is about Lucy.”

  My eyes drifted back to Dani and narrowed. I imagined David sitting next to her, touching her hair and rubbing her back. He would smile mildly at me and that’d be the worst part. His eyes would regard me impassively, like an old friend. Maybe he still had that passion, but it would be for her or someone else. Not for me. He wouldn’t look at me the same anymore.

  ~

  I stumbled into the apartment and shut the heavy door quietly behind me. I tossed my keys at the table but missed, so they landed on the floor with a clang. Stifling a laugh, I kicked off my heels. Tiptoe, tiptoe, shh . . . .

  “Shit, fuck!” I hissed.

  “Liv?”

  “Sorry babe, I hin my shit. Er, I hit my shin on the bed,” I said, giggling.

  The bed rustled with movement. “How was it?”

  “Good,” I responded, and I could see his teeth flash in the dark. “We drank pink Cosmos at dinner and then tequila and . . . other stuff, I don’t remember.”

  “So you had fun?”

  “Yup. You?”

  “Yeah, we had a good time too. Andrew’s brothers are a little immature, but whatever.”

  “Gretchen fell off a curb.” I snickered and then broke into a fit of laughter, clutching my side.

  “You seem better,” he said cautiously when I’d recovered.

  Am I? I didn’t know how to respond, because I wasn’t sure. Since my talk with Gretchen, I had tried to be more affable. I didn’t feel back to normal, but I wasn’t sure I ever would. How could I, knowing what I did? How could things ever go back to the way they were?

  “Bill,” I said softly. “Do you believe in soul mates?”

  I heard the sheets rustle again and jumped when he touched me. He rotated me and unzipped my party dress so it fell to the ground. His figure rose from the bed, and he found my lips with a gentle kiss.

  “Wait,” I said when he pulled away. I wrapped my arms around his neck. It felt nice to be kissed and touched after months of loneliness. Maybe being with Bill again would remind me of our love. He could end my ongoing inner battles.

  He removed his boxers quickly as we kissed and then urged me backward onto the bed. He climbed atop me, and I held his face to mine. When he nudged between my legs, I whispered, “Slow down. Kiss me first.”

  I ran my hands over his long back and shut my eyes while he kissed me excitedly. I sought a connection with my hands and my tongue, but my head began to spin. I opened my eyes, but the room was spinning too. He pecked me on the lips before pulling away.

  I blinked up, focusing on the ceiling. What have I done? Something is lost, I’ve driven a wedge between us – does he feel it too? He was back suddenly, his hands sliding down and spreading me open. “Wait,” I groaned as dread and tequila flooded me. He started to push into me. “Wait, just – just slow down! Jesus.”

  He jerked back and hovered over me. “What?” he asked, bewildered.

  “You’re . . . moving too fast, can’t you feel that I’m not ready?”

  “All right,” he said sitting back on his calves. “What do you want me to do? You don’t like foreplay.”

  I heaved a sigh. I had told him that once, because it was usually a tedious race to see if I could finish when I knew I wouldn’t. After all these years with Bill, I’d gradually given up the chase for my orgasm.

  “Never mind,” I said, getting up and righting my underwear.

  “Seriously? What do you want?”

  “I want you to know what I want.” My stomach knotted, and I swallowed.

  “I thought I did.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m drunk.” I backed away and stumbled over my dress. “It’s my thing, it’s not you. I’m really sorry.”

  “Babe, the sex . . . I know it’s been a while . . . but you don’t mean that, do you?”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed them. “No. No, of course not.” The world moved behind my lids, and my jaw tickled. “I’m sorry,” I repeated and took off for the bathroom.

  He called after me. I scrambled to my knees and leaned over the toilet seconds before throwing up.

  “Oh, shit,” I heard behind me as Bill gathered my hair in his hand. “Did you eat anything at dinner?”

  I shook my head into the toilet and released a stream of pink liquid. I sat back against the wall and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  He crouched down beside me. “It’s all right. You had too much to drink, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll get you some water.”

  I let my head fall into my hands. I was awash with shame for spurning him and for letting the alcohol incite memories of David all night. I just want it to end. I want to rid myself of David and of everything I’ve been holding inside. The guilt, the shame, the lust, the longing. When I was hit with another wave of nausea, I gripped the toilet and vomited every last thing inside me.

  ~

  I’m running, but I’m not moving. I’m being chased, but my legs are heavy. Impossible to lift. The leadenness rises up my arms and settles in my chest, strangling me from the inside out. And someone’s hands are around my neck. My chest is collapsing, and I am gasping, rasping for air . . . .

  I sucked air in suddenly, and my eyes flew open. When I couldn’t move, panic filtered through me until I realized why. Bill was holding me. It had been a while since he had, so I fought the urge to break free and move to my side of the bed.

  “Liv?” he murmured sleepily.

  “It’s all right, just another nightmare,” I said.

  “Hmm? Nightmare? Must be the alcohol.” He pulled me closer, and I sighed, yielding to him.

  CHAPTER 4

  I PULLED THE ZIPPER UP over my ribs and wondered if I could get away with wearing a shawl. I was already cold in the revealing dress and up until now, I had been consciously disguising my weight loss. I remembered Lucy’s serious expression as she had warned us about altering our bridesmaid dresses in any way, because she wanted the three of us looking identical as we stood next to her.

  “Where’s Liv?” I heard from the
next room.

  “In here.”

  We were at Andrew’s behemoth of a house in Winnetka, taking up a few rooms in the ‘east wing,’ as Andrew’s mother had called it. I leaned into the mirror and gave my makeup a once-over. Because my face had become thinner, my eyes looked even larger than normal. The deep Bordeaux gown perfectly complemented their shade of green and the dark honey color of my hair.

  Lucy had hired professionals to transform the four of us for her big day. She was the glowing princess while Gretchen, Dani and I were sultry triplets. We donned identical messy chignons and dramatic makeup, with wine-colored pouts to match our dresses.

  I swiped a lipstick smudge from the corner of my mouth. In the day’s chaos, it had been easy to avoid my thoughts. But now I braced myself against the vanity table. Tonight I would see David again, and I had no plan. I could see beads of sweat forming on my upper lip just thinking about it. Good, then. Perhaps I won’t need a shawl after all.

  Gretchen breezed in, still dressed in one of the red satin bridesmaid robes we’d all received. She halted when she saw me. “Liv,” she said, passing her eyes over me. “You’re really skinny.”

  “Stop,” I said, crossing my arms into myself. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  She walked over and pulled on the armhole of the dress. “This is big. I knew you’d lost weight, but this is too much. I can like, see your ribs.” She ran a finger over my chest that left chills in its wake.

  “You cannot,” I countered, puffing up. “I just know I’m going to be cold, though. Do you think Lucy will let me wear something over my shoulders?”

  “After this weekend, will you please go talk to someone? You’re depressed.”

  I reeled back at the accusation. “I am not depressed. Yes, I’ve lost weight, but I have been working a lot.” And how can I eat when I feel so sick to my stomach all the time?

  “Don’t make me call your father. I will, I swear.”

  I scowled and turned sideways in the mirror, which only made it worse.