“Who are you?” I can’t help but ask. It looks like my mother but it sure isn’t acting like her, not the mother I’ve been around my whole entire life.
“I know, I know,” she says, patting my hand once more and heading for the door. “Sometimes it takes a lot to wake someone up.” She throws me a kind smile and then leaves the room.
I’m left wondering if she was referring to herself.
Or to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LINDEN
I’m in the hospital for two weeks. Two fucking weeks of boredom, itchy skin, fluorescent lights, crabby nurses, terrible food. Two fucking weeks of pure hell.
But it gives me two fucking weeks to think. To think about James and what he told me. To think about what my mum – who started visiting me every day, sometimes drunk, but always kind – advised me.
Two whole weeks to think about Stephanie. To decide to move back to San Francisco. To get my old job back and get my two best friends back.
But mainly to get Stephanie back. Because there was no point in having a heart if I wasn’t going to use it properly. If I was willing to risk life and limb again to go back into the sky, even after everything that happened, surviving the worst case scenario, then there was no reason I couldn’t do the same for her, for us.
It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t feel the same way. It doesn’t matter if she no longer loves me, if she will never forgive me. It only matters that I try anyway. I’d risked it all before on her and I failed us. I won’t let that happen again.
And then of course, those two fucking weeks have brought me closer to my birthday. My thirty-first birthday.
It’s tomorrow. And that means I have one day before the whole pact is up.
I haven’t forgotten about it. It’s been on my mind this whole time. Sure, it’s silly semantics but to me it’s still very real. As long as we are both still single, as long as we are both still thirty, I’m going to marry that woman.
Or I’m at least going to try.
So even though I had plans to drive my shit across the country, once again it’s all in the back of a moving van, heading for San Francisco. This time though, I’ve got Bram driving it. He volunteered and I wasn’t about to turn him down. I think he’s been looking for an excuse to leave Manhattan and I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up settling down in San Francisco.
He wouldn’t be staying with me, of course. I managed to move back into my old place – it hadn’t even gotten one offer this whole time it’s been on the market. But if he does decide to stay in the city, I admit it would be nice. I’ve grown a lot closer with him the last few months. He’s not really as big of a douchebag as I’d thought. Maybe, just a small one, like a pocketdouche.
When I arrive at SFO, I’m not really sure what my game plan is. Sure, I’ve had a whole bloody flight to think about it but there were showing a bunch of good films I’d been wanting to see.
Now I’m hailing a cab. It doesn’t help that I have to use crutches because my leg is in a cast and I can’t really bend over because of my ribs and I can’t really use my arm too much. Luckily the cabbie is a nice fellow and he helps me out. I hate feeling so immobile.
When he asks me where I want to go though, I draw a blank. I haven’t talked to James or Stephanie since they had to leave New York the next day, so I have no idea where they are and they have no idea I’m here.
I get the cab to take me to Stephanie’s place first and tell him to wait a wee bit. This is going to take a while. The ring I got for her from Tiffany’s feels like its burning a hole right through the coin pocket in my jeans. I have no fucking clue what to say or do and I don’t know how long the cab is going to wait if it turns out she’s home.
But she’s not. I buzz her flat four or five times but she never answers. Finally I limp back to the cab and tell the driver to take me to James’s place. I figure James will probably know where she is, or at least have an idea. I’m not sure if they stayed friends or not since everything went down but they did fly all the way to New York to see me.
It doesn’t matter. James isn’t home anyway. He must be at the Lion.
So the poor sucker for a cab driver takes me all the way there. At least then I’m able to send him on his way and I make sure he’s got a huge tip for all the effort and all the times he’s had to help me in and out of the car.
Ghostly fog moves around as I slowly make my way to the door. A hundred memories come with this place. With the muffled sounds and warm light from the bar, it’s like living in the past.
I open the door and am greeted by everything that’s good, everything I’ve missed. This place has a smell. It’s stale beer and cologne and smoke that clings to the walls from decades ago and greasy French fries and cut lemons. It’s actually kind of a gross smell but I love it all the same.
The first person I see is James. He’s behind the counter, wiping it, and I feel like I’m in an episode of Cheers because Dan walks past me holding a drink and says, “Linden!” And then says, “Holy shit dude, you’re fucked up!”
I pat him on the back and keep walking until James sees me. The cloth nearly drops from his hand. He’s speechless. But Penny – Penny! – is sitting at the counter in what was her usual seat, and she follows James’s vacant gaze to where I am.
“Hey!” she cries out happily, getting out of her stool and coming over to hug me. She’s gentle. “What are you doing here?” She looks me up and down, her fingers pausing at a few cuts I have on my cheekbones. “Oh god, you look so terrible. But it’s kind of hot.”
What are you doing here? I want to ask but then I guess it’s pretty obvious that whatever real reasons James had for breaking up with her, he’s over them now.
“I’ve moved back,” I tell her, eyeing James. “Thought I would finish my road to recovery here.”
His eyes bug out even more and finally he says something. “Are you serious?”
“Yup,” I tell him. “Bram is moving my shit across the country again as we speak.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?” he asks. “It’s probably a lot more comfortable being in a vehicle than being all banged up on an airplane.”
I exhale loudly. “Well, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”
“I know,” he says with a wry grin.
“Thirty one,” Penny adds excitedly.
“Yes. Well, I came back to follow through on something.” I look around the bar. “Have you guys seen Stephanie?”
“Oh,” Penny says, her voice drops a register. She exchanges a look with James.
“What?”
“Uh,” James says, scratching at his neck. “She’s here but she’s, uh, on a date.”
Fuck. Why the hell did I just assume she was going to be single?
“A date?”
“Yeah.” His eyes light up hopefully. “But the good news is that I think it’s only her second one with him. I mean, this time around. It’s her ex.”
“Who? Surfer dude?”
“Aaron? No. The douchey accountant.”
“The vodka swiller who cheated on her?” I ask incredulously. “Captain Assbag No Fun?”
“Yep.”
“Fuck that,” I say. “Why is she with him? Where is she?”
James jerks his head in the direction of behind the bar, near the washrooms. The last time I was in those washrooms, I was fucking Steph against the wall. This time I want to grab Owen and try to flush his head down the toilet. Why the hell is she with a guy who treated her like crap?
Suddenly I don’t feel even mildly ashamed of what I’m about to do.
I take off around the bar, James calling after me, “What are you doing Linden?” but I ignore him.
There, in the corner booth, is Stephanie and Owen. He’s cutting up a salad with a fork (what guy orders salad at a pub?) and blabbing on about something. He’s wearing a suit, now has glasses, and he’s barely got any hair left. His ears are started look like Bilbo Baggins’s.
Steph is sitting
across from him, twirling her (very dirty) martini glass around between her fingers, looking bored. She’s also looking so beautiful that I feel like I’m on morphine again. How fucking surreal it is to think about how long I’ve known her, to have been inside of her, to have her tell me she loves me. At that moment I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from it.
She’s wearing ankle boots, jeans and a long-sleeved top. She has no skin showing except for her collarbone, one of my favorite places to bite and lick. Her hair is tied back into a ponytail and she barely has any make-up on. It feels good to know that she didn’t doll herself up for him, that she’s not trying to impress anyone. But the thing is, she doesn’t need to. She’s even more stunning when she’s just being herself.
She is so god damn beautiful I think I could bloody die.
But now Owen is looking over at me. Frowning. He remembers me. He hates me.
He’s about to hate me even more.
Steph turns her head and once she sees me, her jaw comes unhinged. She looks so fucking cute that I’m glad for the surprise. She doesn’t look angry either, which is a good thing.
She looks to Owen and then back to me. She seems like she’s about to panic.
I’ll make this easy for her.
I move toward them, trying to look as cool as you can look on crutches, and stop right in front of their table. “I’m sorry to interrupt the lovely evening you’re both having,” I tell them, looking between the two as they stare up at me dumbfounded. “But I have something important I need to ask Stephanie here.” I give Owen a look. “If you wouldn’t mind giving us some privacy.”
Owen dabs his napkin on his mouth and then throws it on the table. He clears his throat. “Whatever you have to say to her, you have to say it in front of me.”
Oh really? No sympathy for the cripple? I didn’t exactly plan for spectators but if I don’t roll with it, I might lose the chance. I look behind me and see James, Penny and Dan at the edge of the bar, beers in their hands and staring openly at us like we’re some performing act. I give them a wink and then turn back around.
“All right,” I say to Owen. “Stay if you must. But if you say one word, I’m going to whack this fucking crutch right in your Hobbit ears, okay?” He gulps, looking indignant but doesn’t say anything. I glance at Stephanie and can see her wheels turning. She has no idea what I’m about to do. But I know with one sentence, I can put her on the right track.
“Stephanie,” I say, squaring my body toward her. “Tomorrow is my birthday. I turn thirty-one.”
And now she knows. Surprise and fear and something I hope is a wee more positive than that all swirl in her big blue eyes. “I know,” she says softly, warily.
“Then you know that once upon a time, we made a promise to each other.” My chest feels tight but I push through it. “And I know that the promise was lost. Ruined. And it was my fault. But I can’t pretend it’s over. That it doesn’t exist. I want to know that there is still time. I want another chance to give you my heart. And of course, other things beside my heart.”
Owen makes a disgruntled sound and I jerk the crutch toward him, shooting him a deadly look. To his credit, he shuts up.
I turn back to her, stoop over as much as I can, and grab her hand. It’s so small and soft. It’s so mine.
“I did a terrible thing. The worst thing. I had your love – it was all the love in the world – and I threw it away. Because I was an idiot. Because I was scared. Because I was afraid of doing the wrong thing and being the bad guy. But then I became what I feared and I lost thing I cared about most of all. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for giving up on us and for letting go when I promised I wouldn’t. But I hope and pray that you can. That you will give me another shot. Because I’ve seen your soul, baby, and it’s real and it’s rare. And once upon a time, you were kind enough to give it to me. I want to have you again. I want what’s true.” I take in a shaky breath. “We are true. We always have been. I hope we always will be.”
I grip her hand, feeling her pulse and then, while she’s gazing at me with heartfelt eyes, I attempt to drop to one knee.
But of course, I’m on crutches and I can’t. I wobble there for a second, nearly tilting over, before Owen actually sticks his arm out to steady me. That was nice of him. Douche.
“Normally I would go on one knee,” I tell her, feeling my cheeks go hot. “But I might not ever get up again. So let’s just pretend that I am.” I reach into my ring pocket. “I can still give you this though.”
People in the bar gasp. Someone lets out a giddy squeal (Penny, probably).
But Stephanie isn’t shocked. There’s a single tear rolling down her cheek and she has one hand to her chest but she doesn’t seem surprised. I guess she knows me better than I think. Or maybe she’s feeling sorry for me. Not many men would propose on crutches.
I keep my eyes glued to her, trying to convey everything that isn’t coming out of my mouth. “I have been your best friend for nine years. I want to be your whole world for ninety more. You are everything I could ever want – a friend, a lover, family – wrapped up in one fantastically hot package.” I grin at her and she blushes. “I’ve learned so much with you all this time and I want to learn more. I want to grow with you, evolve with you, laugh with you, and please you, until I’m old and grey, until I can’t speak or hear, until the only thing I can do is love. That’s the one thing that will never end – my love for you.”
The insides of my nose grow hot and through blurred vision I present the ring, holding it out for her. It’s platinum, with a big honking diamond framed by tiny black ones – beautiful but edgy, just like her.
She whimpers a little at the sight of it, a little “Oh my god,” escapes her lips and she’s starting to shake.
I clear my throat, determined to stay strong. “Stephanie Robson, baby blue, my best friend and the woman with my heart. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” I take a moment to compose myself. “Will you marry me?”
The whole room seems to collectively hold its breath along with me.
It feels like a fucking eternity.
She stares at me, the ring, then me again. Seconds tick by. You can practically hear people across the room swallowing.
I feel like I might just die. My heart is prepared to plummet.
But then she laughs. Loud. A wide, gorgeous grin spreads across her face.
“Yes!” she cries out. “Yes, yes, yes!”
My heart is bursting out of my chest. I am almost too overjoyed to slip the ring on her finger but somehow I manage to get it on. It’s only then, that her sleeve slips up a bit and I see that she’s wearing the bracelet I had gotten her for Christmas. She must have still opened it, still loved it. She still loves me.
I couldn’t be happier. She gently throws her arms around me, laughing, crying, holding me tight. It hurts my chest a little but I don’t care. Beside us, Owen slips out of the booth, grumbling, and takes off. Suddenly corks are flying across the room and people are cheering and gathering around us.
But I only see her. I’ve always only seen her.
I carefully grab her face in my hands. “I love you,” I tell her fervently. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I never stopped.”
“And I’ve barely even started,” she says back. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
I pull her into me and kiss her forehead. “Thank you for saying yes. To the pact. To this. To me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You know, I can’t wait to play nurse to you again.” She kisses me on the lips, soft, sweet, wet with tears. I kiss her back, lost in it, in her, in joy.
Suddenly James and Penny are standing beside us with four glasses of champagne.
“I know we toasted to this almost five years ago,” James says, beaming at us. “But let’s do it again.”
I straighten up and give him a heartfelt nod as I take the glass from him. Even though our friendship has been tested and is no longer the same, I’m confid
ent we can survive it and possibly come out of it better. Maybe that’s what all friendships need to do – evolve, adapt and change. Just like life.
The four of us raise our glasses in the air.
“To Steph and Linden,” Penny says.
“To friendship,” says Stephanie.
“To love,” says James.
“To us.”
EPILOGUE
31
STEPHANIE
You know how they say it’s bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding? Well, I think it’s good luck if they fuck each other before the wedding. But, you know, with blindfolds, so it’s not actually breaking the rules.
Okay, that was actually all Linden’s idea but I’m obviously game for it. That’s why I’m standing outside of the downstairs coatroom at the Corinthian Yacht Club in Tiburon, in my wedding dress and with a blindfold in one hand.
I knock on the door and wait, nervously looking around to see if any wayward guests have spotted me. The ceremony is starting pretty soon but this was one of those things we promised to do. We pinky swore on it the other day, and I know we don’t break those with each other.
“Who is it?” Linden asks from the other side of the door.
“Disney princess,” I answer, adding, “bride.”
I hear a chuckle. “All right baby blue. You better have your blindfold on. We can’t see each other, remember?”
“Hold on,” I tell him. I take note of where I’m standing, how far away the doorknob is and then slip the blindfold on, tying it behind my head. “I would much rather you tie this. Much sexier that way.”
My world goes dark. My hand goes on the knob. I slowly turn it and cautiously step inside the coatroom.
It smells of leather and potpourri and sage. That last scent is all Linden. Big, strong hands grip my arm and then pull me further in. Heavy breathing fills the room as the door clicks shut behind me.