by J. L. Berg
My brows furrowed. “Explain what?”
“Your accent.”
Curiosity got the better of me, and I pressed further. “What about my accent? I thought you found it rather sexy.”
“Oh, I do. But it’s not quite as pronounced as I’d expect.”
I chuckled. “And you would be the expert on British accents then?”
She puffed her chest and stuck her chin out. “I do watch a lot of Game of Thrones.”
I let out a laugh. “It’s true. I have lost most of the slang of my youth, but I’m all right with that.”
“Why don’t you miss it?”
“England?” I specified, shrugging. “I’ve moved on. This is home now.”
I knew she was looking for a deeper answer, but this was all I could give at the moment. Being back here, so close to the day we’d lost Ben, I felt raw and wounded.
“What about you?” I asked, changing the subject. “When was the last time you were here?”
She blinked several times, maybe a little caught off guard from my topic change but decided to go with it. “Um, last month,” she answered.
“Last month?” I found myself saying, slightly amazed that this remarkable woman had been roaming the same streets as me only weeks ago.
“Yeah. I’m actually here quite often for work. But, if you asked me when was the last time I was here without a phone glued to my ear, the answer would be never.”
“You’ve never really been to New York then.”
“Technically, no. I’ve been to several lovely hotels, a dozen fashion houses, and a couple of really nice restaurants. But, no, I’ve never been to New York. Not outside of work.”
“Well then, I guess I’ve got my work cut out for me,” I said, lunging forward in my seat to get the attention of our driver.
“Could you stick around?” I asked as he pulled up to the curb of my apartment building. Turning to Millie, I gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Don’t move.”
“But where are you going?”
“I’m taking your things inside.”
“And I can’t go with you? I want to see your place,” she argued.
Stepping out of the cab, I leaned my head in through the window, enjoying the adorable pout on her face. “No time,” I explained. “If this is your first trip in New York, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and I’m not about to waste it by showing you my poor excuse of an apartment. So, hold tight, and I’ll be right back.”
To my surprise, she reached up and planted a deep and urgent kiss against my lips. I returned it, cupping the back of her head through the open window as onlookers passed by, whistling and cheering.
“Don’t be long.” She grinned when I finally pulled away.
I did as I had been told, grabbing her luggage out of the back of the car and making my way into the apartment building with haste. I was in such a chipper mood after that kiss, I swore, I was singing show tunes all the way up the elevator.
That was, until I walked down the hallway and found James standing at my door.
“You were supposed to land this morning. What happened?”
Leave it to James to get right to the point.
I cleared my throat, my smile dying the moment I saw him. “I changed my flight,” I said simply as I noticed his eyes lingering on the scruff that had begun to accumulate across my jawline.
“You’ve got lipstick on your face,” he said, not bothering to wait for me to unlock my own door. He pulled out his spare key and did it himself, taking note of the luggage in my hand.
“So, who is she? Flight attendant? Waitress?”
“Jesus, James. Do you really think so little of me?”
“You have the track record. I’m just working off previous experience here.”
He pushed through the front door, and I followed him, going for the bedroom to drop off Millie’s things.
“She’s different,” I said.
“Oh?” he said from the living room, sounding genuinely interested. “How so?”
“I don’t know. She just is.”
“Come on, Aiden. I’ve heard this before. Every so often, you meet a woman, and you say she’s different. And then, two weeks later, she’s gone. So, please, do me a favor and—”
“I told her about Ben,” I blurted out, instantly ceasing his words.
I left out the part about how she didn’t quite remember, but it did the trick. His eyes widened, and he understood.
“Do I get to meet her?” he asked, taking a seat on my sofa, all doubts gone.
He had always been comfortable here, more so than I ever was at his ridiculous Manhattan high-rise. Even though I was at the top of my field, he would always make more.
But James had always been the most ambitious of the three of us. Ben had been the dreamer, and James was the take-charge, older-brother type. Me? I was the drifter. The one caught in between.
But that had all changed the night Ben died.
His death had given me a purpose.
And I’d been honoring his legacy ever since.
“No,” I said. “You won’t get to meet her.”
He let out a ragged breath. “So, she’s not different from the rest.”
“She is,” I replied, heading for the door. “She’s extraordinary. That is why I have to let her go, and you know exactly why.”
I knew he wanted to argue with me, but I couldn’t listen to it.
I had an entire day planned with Millie, and I was going to enjoy every second, because, soon, that was all I’d have left.
Days, minutes…and finally, seconds.
And then I’d have to let her go.
Forever.
When I’d promised Millie a day to remember, I hadn’t been lying. I wanted her to see New York—the real New York, not the tiny sliver she’d been accustomed to all those years of flying in and out for business.
So, first, we did a few touristy things—things I hadn’t even done in my fifteen years of living here. We went to the top of the Empire State Building and took cheesy photos together while wind whipped through our hair, and the world looked so small and far away.
I took her to a restaurant with nothing resembling junk food on the menu and forced her to eat vegetables that were not fried or served with melted cheese. To her surprise, she actually enjoyed it, although I thought bribing her with sexual favors helped immensely.
I kept my promise, and we soon found ourselves at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“It’s huge!” she exclaimed as we walked up the massive staircase.
“Just wait until you step inside.”
The place was packed, but it usually was during the summer. Wall-to-wall people filled the place the moment you walked through the heavy wooden doors.
“Stay here, and I’ll go grab us tickets.”
She nodded, her head already moving in every direction, trying to capture the height of the ceilings, the beautiful stone sculptures, and the enormous floral arrangements. I made quick work of purchasing tickets, and thankfully, Millie didn’t stray too far from the spot where I’d left her; otherwise, in this crowd, I might never have found her again.
“Where do you want to go first?” I asked.
She shrugged, her face alight with excitement. “You lead the way. You’re the boss today, remember?”
I wagged my eyebrows. “I’ll remember that.”
She shook her head, a slight blush spreading across her lovely cheeks. Taking her hand, I headed for my favorite section of the museum.
“Oh my gosh!” she said the moment we stepped into the room. “It’s so bright.”
“It’s my favorite in the whole museum.”
We took a moment to appreciate it. I didn’t know how many times since moving to New York I’d come to this particular part of the museum for inspiration, for support.
For solace.
Looking up, I felt like we were in an ancient city with its Roman architecture and beautiful stone statues. But the light from the glass
ceiling almost gave the feeling you were stepping into a garden.
“It’s wondrous.”
I tried to sound impressive as we walked. I pointed out my favorites and told her about the history of stonework.
“Do you hope to have your own work in a place like this one day?” she finally asked as we wandered into the modern art gallery.
I swallowed hard, looking at a particular statue completed only a few years earlier, knowing I had only a finite amount of time before I had to give this all up.
“I don’t think I’ll ever reach this level of greatness,” I said.
I’m on borrowed time…
“Well, I’d like to be here when it finally happens, so I can lean over and whisper in your ear, I told you so.”
“I would love that,” I answered honestly, trying to imagine what it would be like to be surrounded by my friends and family. To have Millie by my side as my life’s work culminated to this one great achievement.
But it would never be.
Life would fail me once again.
“Do you want to say it this year, or should I?” James asked as we stood on the rooftop under the New York sky.
It was just past midnight, a warm breeze blowing through the buildings, reminding me of summer days long since past.
My back stiffened as I looked down at the still-bustling city below. Clearing my throat, I said, “Not by birth, but by choice. Brothers for life. Brothers forever.”
“He really was a sentimental son of a bitch, wasn’t he?” James said as we held our double shots of whiskey in remembrance.
“Yeah, he was. But he was the best of us.”
James nodded. “He really was.”
Our glasses came together with a definitive clink before we each downed the amber liquid, commemorating our fallen brother on the day of his passing.
It was something we’d been doing since we moved here a decade and a half ago. Piss poor and drowning in grief, we’d found ourselves on the rooftop of our apartment building on the first anniversary of his death, unable to do much else but drink away our sorrows.
Ever since then, we’d made it a yearly event. Our place of residence might have changed over the years, but this remained the same.
Ben would always be remembered on this day.
At least by the two of us.
“Have you ever wondered where we’d be in life if Ben hadn’t died?” James asked, taking a seat in the rickety folding chair. He poured himself another shot of whiskey as he leaned back and looked up at the sky.
“He’d probably be making statues for local churches—pro bono, of course, while living on crisps and biscuits.”
“He did love biscuits.” He smiled.
“And we’d be working our asses off at God knows where to make sure he didn’t starve to death.”
He nodded. “I’d be working my ass off. You’d probably be chasing tail at the local pub.”
I shrugged. “I’d like to think I would have done something better with my life eventually.”
He gave me a meaningful stare. “You would have. Ben would have made sure of it. It’s why he taught you how to carve in the first place.”
I let out a deep breath, remembering the moment I’d found Ben sitting outside, under a tree, humming to himself while he carved a rock with an old knife.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my eyes wide with fright. Usually, in my experience, a knife meant bad news.
“Making a bird,” Ben said very plainly.
My head cocked to the side as I sat down next to him. “A bird? Out of stone? How do you do that?”
He smiled. “Very carefully.”
I made a disgruntled face. “I’m not daft.”
At least, I didn’t think I was. But this kid was younger than me, and if he knew how to turn a rock into a bird, surely, I did, too.
“You simply have to carve away at it. Bit by bit. It takes a lot of patience.”
I looked down at his progress. So far, it only looked like a misshapen rock, definitely nothing close to a bird.
“How long have you been working on it?”
“A few months.”
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “A few months? No offense, but I don’t think it’s working.”
He shrugged. “I’ll get there eventually. Patience, remember? Let me teach you, Aiden.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my most precious possession. The stone bird my brother had carved.
It had taken him months, and I’d watched him with skeptical eyes, convinced he was half-crazy. But then, slowly, I’d become enamored by the process.
And so, I’d finally taken him up on his offer and learned.
It hadn’t been easy.
We hadn’t exactly been blessed with the correct tools or equipment, but Ben had been resourceful. He’d created tools out of household items our foster parents had thrown out and used rocks from the garden.
It had been his talent, but it’d soon become my passion.
Placing the tiny stone bird on the ledge in front of us, I held out my glass and saluted it in a silent nod to my brother, the dreamer.
“We need to talk about your diagnosis,” James finally said, cutting through the silence like a knife.
“No,” I answered, a note of finality in my tone.
He ignored it and pressed on, “Aiden, I told you, this doesn’t have to be the end. There are dozens of things we can try. Please don’t shut me out. I’m not the bad guy here.”
I let out a dark laugh.
“Did you ever think that maybe I went into this field, so I could one day help you? My own brother? That maybe this isn’t a cruel twist of fate but actually a good thing?”
“There is nothing about this that is good,” I growled.
He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes level with mine. “How would you even know? You checked out the moment I broke the news to you.”
“Because you ruined my life!” I roared. “And what’s worse is, less than twenty-four hours later, fate handed me the perfect woman! And I can’t have her because what kind of life can I offer her now that I…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“A few days ago, it was just my career I was losing, which, at that moment, was my whole life, but then I met Millie, and suddenly, this whole other world of possibilities was shown to me. I could get married, have children.”
“You could still have all that,” he said.
Ignoring him, I went on, “It was like a knife to the gut. I wasn’t only losing my livelihood as an artist. I was losing an entire future.”
“Have you even told her?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“No.”
“Why? Don’t you think she deserves to know? To have the choice?”
I let out a deep sigh as I leaned back in my seat, the empty shot glass still in my hand. “She’ll stay,” I said. “She’s good and sweet and kind. She’ll stay, James, and then what? Maybe it will be great for a while. Really great. But, eventually, I’ll just become that mistake she made, and I can’t be the reason she ruined her life. She’s ambitious, James. She has dreams—some she hasn’t even realized herself. I can’t stand in the way of that.”
“Then, why do this at all? Why bring her here? Why prolong the agony?”
Running my hand through my hair, I avoided his gaze and finally settled on the little stone bird. “Because I’m the selfish one, remember?”
I heard him sigh. “No, I don’t remember that at all.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “Ben taught you to carve because he loved you.”
“And look who’s famous for it,” I snidely replied.
“He would be proud, Aiden.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not here,” I said, rising from my chair in search of the only thing that could bring me solace when my mind was filled with chaos.
Millie.
“What if we don’t remember?” I asked, our bodies still slick from sweat as we lay side by side on
the bed, wrapped in silk sheets.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” he said, his hand gently cupping my face.
“But what if we don’t? What if I wake up tomorrow, and this”—I reached forward, placing a tender kiss on his lips—“is gone? Just another drunken night forgotten.”
He pulled back, his eyes downcast. “Then, maybe it’d be for the best.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
“Because I’m nothing but damaged goods, love. And you deserve more than that.” His gaze found mine once more, and I was struck by the pain I found. “So much more.”
I awoke in Aiden’s bed, the smell of him so fresh on the sheets, it was as if he were here with me. Pulling the pillow close to my face, I inhaled his woodsy scent as I listened to the sounds of the city below.
Over the years, I’d been offered a handful of jobs here, and a few of them had been tempting; after all, New York was an epicenter for fashion. Much more so than Miami where Lorenzo had based his thriving business. But my parents had instilled a sense of loyalty in me that forced me to stay and work for my success rather than jump the line.
That, and the thought of braving a New York winter really scared the crap out of me.
But part of me wondered now, if I’d taken a position here, would I have met Aiden? Maybe at a bar after a long day at work, or perhaps at a fancy art gallery?
Or would we have been destined to be close but never near?
I turned my head, gazing out the window onto the tall buildings that surrounded us. I sounded like a lunatic.
Fate and future?
None of it mattered. Not when he lived here, and I was going home in a few days.
“Guard your heart, Millie,” he’d said.
I’d do well to heed his words.
As I settled back against the pillow that smelled far too good, my ears perked up at the sound of the front door unlocking. As I was in an unfamiliar place, in an unfamiliar city, my heartbeat rose in my chest but soon settled at the sight of Aiden in the doorway.
He was quick; deliberate even, as his shoes hit the floor with a thud, followed by his jeans and belt. He swiftly removed his shirt and dropped it as well before sliding into bed alongside me.
