The first couple voicemails were similar to the texts, full of worry about why I hadn’t come to work or let him know where I was. With every new one, my heart sank, and my stomach churned. Then I reached the last.
Miss McNiven, as you have failed to show courtesy and respect toward your job, or to me, there is no need to contact me. You are in breach of contract, and your employment has been terminated. Your things will be delivered to your apartment. Should you have any questions, please contact my lawyer to discuss the penalties for breaking your contracts. Good day.
What. The. Fuck.
I stared at my phone as if that would make it less awful. Okay, I’d made a mess of things by not calling him before I left, for certain, but he hadn’t even given me the benefit of the doubt for twenty-four hours. Apparently, if I wasn’t in the hospital, then whatever reason I could have had for not contacting him wasn’t good enough. I’d inconvenienced him. Worried him. Made him waste his time.
The tension that had been building inside me didn’t break in a flood of tears. No, he didn’t deserve me to cry over him. Not when my mother was lying in a hospital bed. He didn’t know that, but he’d made assumptions, not based on what he knew of me, but on what he considered important.
He didn’t know me at all.
Everything I thought we had was now tarnished by the realization that it – that I – had never meant as much to him as he had to me.
A text alert came up from Colin, telling me he’d just arrived.
Fuck Alix.
If he didn’t have the decency to not believe the worst, then he wasn’t the man I thought he was.
My fingers shook as I tapped out a response. Once sent, I would put him aside and focus on the reason I was here.
26
Alix
I have no questions. You made yourself entirely clear in your final message. Should you wish to retain my last paycheck, consider it compensation for my breach of contract. We’re done.
I deleted the message two days after I received it, but it didn’t really matter because I’d read it so many times that I had it memorized. It played through my head whether I wanted it to or not. Morning, noon, and night. When I was showering. Eating. Driving. Standing. Sitting.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d been unconsciously planning a future with Sine until she was gone. Independence Day was tomorrow. Usually, the guys and I went to the Hamptons. We weren’t huge partiers, but we sometimes had people come with us, sometimes we didn’t. This year, however, Erik wanted to be with Tanya, which made things awkward for the rest of us. Reb because he and Mitzi weren’t together anymore. Me because of...her. And then Jace called tonight and said that he wanted to work on something new and wouldn’t be able to make it.
I stared up at the ceiling the same as I had for almost six days straight. The night I’d gotten the text from her, I drank myself into a stupor, her last two words echoing in my head until I finally passed out. I hadn’t really moved much since then.
I certainly hadn’t been working.
I thought I’d been blocked before, but it was nothing like now. I couldn’t see anything but her.
And I didn’t know how to stop.
Today made it five weeks since Sine had disappeared. Five weeks since I felt like the world no longer had any color, any meaning. I’d gone through all the stages. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.
I looked at my reflection as I crossed in front of a mirror and winced. Okay, so maybe I was still in the depression stage. I rubbed my hand over my jaw. I hadn’t shaved in days, and the only reason I’d done it then had been because Erik had threatened to kick my ass if I missed another night at the club.
Even well-groomed, I hadn’t been able to fool my friends. The worst part was, it wasn’t just me who was miserable. Reb was too. And Jace was distracted. Erik was preoccupied with Tanya.
Being with them at the club should have felt like getting back to normal. And that should have been what I wanted. A life like the one I’d had before she came along. Physically satisfying sex that didn’t have strings attached. Focusing on my career. A world that had been simpler.
But it wasn’t enough.
Having been with Sine, I couldn’t go back to the way things had been. I wasn’t the same man. She’d connected with me on a level I hadn’t known existed.
Or I thought she had.
But I’d been wrong.
She couldn’t have written that text if she felt the same way I did. Had. Not did. Because I was over her.
Except even now, as I stood in the middle of my studio, thoughts of her kept creeping in. Memories.
The blank space on the walls didn’t help. I’d torn down every picture of her. Since then, I’d been trying to find something to replace them, but I was worse off than I had been before I met Sine. Then, I hadn’t known what I wanted to do. I’d been in a creative blind spot.
Now, I knew what I wanted to do, but I couldn’t see anyone else in her place. Every time I tried, I found flaws, reasons why none of the models I’d worked with in the past could possibly make my vision come alive.
The only thing worse than not having any idea of what I wanted to do, was knowing exactly what I wanted but not being able to do it.
“You’ve been dodging my calls, Alix.”
The familiar voice made me turn, but I already knew it wasn’t the person I wanted it to be. Or didn’t want it to be. I was still torn as to which I wanted more. To be able to move on and forget about her, or see her again so I could have closure.
At the moment, however, neither one was an option.
“Giselle.” I didn’t even have the energy to attempt a smile, even if I’d wanted to be pleasant to the woman.
She strolled toward me, her blood-red lips curved into what I was certain she intended to be impossibly seductive.
It just made me more tired.
“I was disappointed when I didn’t hear from you,” she said, stroking a hand down my arm.
She wore a skimpy top, the sort of miniskirt that barely covered her ass, and a pair of six-inch heels. Every inch of her screamed for attention, for people to notice her.
I stepped out of arms reach from her, but she didn’t seem discouraged. “I thought you’d found someone else for your great new series, but then I overheard some other models saying that you haven’t had anyone come in for more than a month. I thought you were still hoping that those pictures you took with that assistant of yours would become something. Then I heard she was gone too.”
My hands curled into fists for a moment, but the flicker of anger that went through me burned out almost as quickly as it came.
“I’m not feeling particularly creative today,” I said quietly. “Please see yourself out.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “There were rumors going around that you’d fallen for her. That assistant of yours. Was that the reason why you let her model for you?” Her beautiful face twisted into something ugly. “I guess I just got it backwards, right? You don’t sleep with your models. You just let the women you fuck become your models.”
“Leave, Giselle. Before you say something you regret.” I meant the threat, but there was no heat behind it.
She raised an eyebrow. “What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
I sighed and scratched at my beard. “It means that I’m not interested in you, Giselle. And I would hate to put the word out that you were behaving unprofessionally toward a photographer.”
She threw a couple choice words at me on her way out, but I didn’t acknowledge them. I didn’t really care what she thought of me. I didn’t need or want her approval. I was having a difficult time wanting anything actually.
Sure, I ate, drank. I went through the motions. But that’s all they were. Motions.
I scratched my cheek again, unsure of how much time had passed since Giselle had stormed out.
This beard itched like a motherfucker. I needed to shave.
I turned off the
lights as I left, more out of habit than anything else. If I didn’t snap out of this soon, I was going to sell the studio and talk to my cousin Izett about what I could do within the company. If I couldn’t have what I wanted, I might as well make myself useful to the family.
I’d come back tomorrow and see if anything changed.
I wasn’t hopeful, but it was something to do.
27
Sine
I’d only been gone a little over a month, but it felt like a lifetime.
“Coming or going?” The balding man in the aisle seat gave me a friendly smile. His accent marked him as being from Glasgow. “Are you going to visit or coming home?”
I answered honestly, my voice soft, “I’m not sure.”
He gave me an odd look, but I was already turning my attention back toward the window. It was evening, but since it was August, it was still light enough for me to see out the window. The Statue of Liberty was visible in the distance, reminding me of the first time I saw it.
Then, I’d been full of hope, eager to start the new adventure. Now, as I looked at the city I once considered home, all I felt was dread.
Staying in Ireland hadn’t been appealing either. Not with everyone giving me sideways looks, wondering just how much of the truth I was telling about my life in America. I hadn’t exactly given anyone much to go on either. I’d said it was because I wanted to focus on Mam, but it was a weak-sounding excuse that I doubted most of my family had believed. Once everything had started getting back to normal, my reason for being there faded.
Mam had been in the hospital only for a couple days, but the doctors had wanted to run some tests when they hadn’t been able to find an initial cause for her passing out. Of course, I stayed to see through the results, which had basically said she needed to change her diet, and then I’d spent time with each of my siblings and their families. But there was only so much time someone could claim to be taking as a vacation. I’d needed to make a choice.
Not that there really was a choice as far as I was concerned.
I couldn’t stay, not when I’d left things unfinished here.
Not when I didn’t know what I wanted.
The descent into JFK was smooth and drama free, but it didn’t ease the knots in my stomach. The text message I’d sent to Alix ending things had shown as being read, but he hadn’t sent back a response. I hadn’t expected him to, not after I told him we were through, but that lack of expectation hadn’t explained itself to my heart.
I missed him.
As hacked off as I’d been at him, I was hurt that he hadn’t replied, hadn’t fought for me.
Part of it was on me though too. I’d been on an emotional edge when I’d gotten his texts and voicemails, and I’d reacted impulsively rather than thinking things through like I usually did. I’d let what happened with my mom cloud my judgment when it came to dealing with Alix, and I shouldn’t have. I should have called him and explained what’d happened. Then, if he’d still behaved like a total asshole, my anger could have been justified.
“Here you go, lass.” The Scot pulled my bag from the overhead compartment and handed it to me. “You be safe.”
“Thank you,” I said as I took my bag. I kept my head down as I followed the other passengers off the plane.
I didn’t have anyone waiting for me since I hadn’t told anyone I was coming back. Not that I would’ve had anyone to call. I’d burned whatever ties I had to people here when I left without an explanation. I made my way to the exit where taxis would be parked, and as I stepped outside, the heat hit me hard enough to make me stagger back a step. Humidity so thick that it felt like breathing water. The cloying smell of pavement and diesel that would include other scents as I went into Manhattan.
I was back.
No more putting off thinking about it or pretending that it wasn’t happening. The time I spent in Ireland felt like some sort of dream, an out of body experience. I’d focused on my family and hadn’t let myself think about New York too much. I hadn’t been able to put it completely out of my mind, but it’d still been enough to keep me from having to acknowledge the full extent of what awaited me until this very moment.
The little bit of psychology I knew said that the sense of smell was the one most powerfully linked to memories. One whiff of something could bring back a host of memories and emotions, and with every breath I took, I was pulled back into the life I had abandoned five weeks ago.
I scrubbed at my cheeks, wiping away the evidence of the tears that had spilled over without my consent. I’d spent too much time over the past five weeks crying to start it all over again now. Once I was safely in my own apartment again, I might allow myself to give in, but I wouldn’t do it here.
I opened the door to the cab and slid my bag into the backseat next to me. I gave him the address and settled back in the seat. I’d arrived not too long after the worst of rush hour traffic, so the streets were still going to be crowded, but as much as I wanted to be back in my own place, I was grateful for the slow pace.
My landlord had been understanding when I’d called to tell him my predicament. He’d agreed to hold my apartment as long as I kept him in the loop about when I’d be coming back, and I’d sent him a letter last week with August’s rent, letting him know I planned to return this month. That, plus a plane ticket back, had drained my bank account. I had enough left for the necessities, but I’d need to start looking for work right away.
I paid the driver, then headed to the door. I rubbed my palms against my jeans and flexed my fingers. My heart thudded against my chest as adrenaline flooded through me. I could have waited to do this, gathered my courage. Called first.
If I put it off, though, things would only get harder. I needed to have this done so I could start planning for my future.
I knocked and waited. It was possible he wasn’t here, but I was hoping he was. If not, I’d have to figure out a way to get past the doorman at his building, and that would just make matters even more complicated than they already were.
After a couple minutes, I reached for the door. If it was locked, I’d go to his apartment. The door opened easily though, and I stepped inside. I knew there was a chance I’d be interrupting Alix and some woman, but if that was the case, then I deserved the heartache such a sight would offer. What had happened between us was as much my fault as it was his.
The first thing I felt when I saw him standing by the table was relief that he was alone. Then I really saw him, and a stab of pain went through my heart. Even from his profile, I could see dark smudges under his eyes. A bit of scruff on his usually close-shaven face. Clothes rumpled.
As that all registered, I also saw that there were no pictures on the walls. No equipment or props to be seen. The place was virtually empty.
“Alix.” I said his name softly, not wanting to startle him, but he jumped anyway.
He turned the rest of the way toward me, eyes widening.
Before he could say anything at all, I blurted out the words that had brought me here straight from the airport. The words that were the reason I hadn’t had a choice about coming back to New York. The words that had changed everything for me...and would do the same for him.
“I’m pregnant.”
28
Alix
I’d come back to the studio to pack things up. It’d been more than a month since I produced anything decent. I’d never gone that long without taking a single picture, not since I first started my own professional studio. I wasn’t giving up, I told myself. I was just taking a break until I figured out what I would do next.
The common sense part of me knew that I was just making excuses. This wasn’t simply a loss of inspiration. It was a loss of desire. All I’d ever wanted to do from the moment I picked up my first camera was to be a photographer.
Until now.
Everything was numb. Gray.
And I was pretty sure my friends were going to stage an intervention for me in the near future if I didn’
t snap out of it soon.
That was the main reason why I didn’t answer the door when someone knocked. I loved my cousin, but I hadn’t been able to stomach being around Erik this past month. He was too fucking happy. Even when he and Tanya were arguing, he was obnoxious. He said it was because he knew that what they had was stronger than a disagreement.
Bastard.
I heard the door open but ignored it. Whoever it was could go and–
“Alix.”
I jumped. Fuck me. It was her.
I turned around even as my brain kept trying to tell me that I’d imagined it. That it couldn’t possibly be Sine. She was gone. She’d left me.
But it was her.
Some part of my brain registered all of the physical things. Her wild curls. The bruised-looking flesh under her eyes. Her clothes hanging on her. How the skin on her face looked stretched too tight over her bones. The way her once sparkling eyes were dull.
But most of all, I was consumed by the fact that my heart seemed to have stopped, frozen. My lungs burning as I forgot to breathe.
I only had a few seconds for it all to sink in because then...
“I’m pregnant.”
I gave my head a shake because I must have heard her incorrectly. There was no way she was pregnant. None.
“I’m sorry to be blurting it out like that,” she continued, her accent thicker than it had been when she’d...left. She twisted her hands together and took a step forward. “I meant to be...I mean...dammit.”
Seeing her flustered broke me out of my daze. “Why?” The question came out flat. “Why would you leave if you’re...” I couldn’t finish the question. Saying the word would make it real.
“I didn’t know,” she said. Her eyes flicked to mine for a moment. “When I left, I didn’t know. I found out on Monday but didn’t want to be telling you over the phone.”