Page 110 of If It Can't Be Us

I pause, her question hanging in the air. What would I tell my clients? I’d ask them to confront their fears, to challenge their negative beliefs. I’d tell them that self-sabotage is a cycle that can be broken. I’d tell them they deserve to be happy. Why can’t I follow my own advice?

She takes a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to lecture you all night. You’ve succeeded in every other aspect of your life. Why not this? If you want something bad enough, you’ll find a way to get it.” She moves to stand, pausing at the door. “And Leo, if you decide to bet on yourself, don’t take no for an answer. I like Vivian.” She smiles wide. “By the way, are we still on for dinner Friday night?”

“Yeah, of course,” I reply, managing a small smile.

“Great. I’ll see you then,” she says, and walks out.

As the door closes behind her, her words echo in my mind. What would I tell my clients? Maybe it’s time I start taking my own advice.

* * * * ** * * * *

When I get home, I decide to go for a run to clear my head. The pounding of the pavement and the warm summer breeze melt away some of the stress built up over the past week.

Running along the Riverwalk, I pass the spot where I scared the living hell out of Vivian. I laugh to myself as I think of her yelling at me and shoving me, the fear in her eyes, and how they softened as she melted into me when she realized it was me.

God, my life wasn’t as great as I thought it was before she came into it. Everything has been more exciting, more fun, and full of laughs since I met her.

I think of the first night we met, the witty banter we shared. I think of her beautiful smile and contagious laugh, and the way she playfully nudgesme when she’s teasing. I think of the way my body responds when she looks at me or touches me. I think of her confessions and her tears, the way she’s clung to me when she’s sad, and how she’s trusted me with the most vulnerable parts of herself.

I think of our morning coffee dates, our nights spent at Craft’s. I think of her dedication to her job and the way she challenges me, making me want to be a better man. I think of Paris… and the first time we had sex.

Jesus Christ, I love this woman so bloody much.

For the first time in my life, my fear of not having her is greater than any other fear I’ve ever had—the realization hits me like a ton of bricks—and what I want more than anything is her. I want her more than any one-night stand. I want her more than the freedom I’ve always enjoyed as a bachelor. I want her more than the safety and predictability of being single.

I imagine my life with Vivian, and it’s a stark contrast to the single-bachelor existence I’ve always envisioned. Instead, I picture Vivian in my home, in my bed. I envision her greeting me with a kiss after a long day, our vacations together, family dinners… maybe even starting a family of our own. The cool air stings my eyes, and they begin to glisten. My vision blurs as a profound sense of calm washes over me.

What I need to do is show her that I’m committed to being there, supporting her, and growing together, one day at a time. It’s not just about her trusting me to move forward; I need to trust her too.

I slow to a walk, catching my breath as my heart races. I pull up my Delta app and check flights to Salt Lake City. There are no flights after 7:30 PM on Friday, and my last lecture ends at 7:00. I check Saturday and find an early flight that arrives around 10:30 AM. I book it, not having a solid plan yet but hoping I can come up with one in the next few days.

I’m unsure about what the future holds or if I can ever commit to marriage, but I can commit to being with Vivian, to staying loyal to her. I hope that will be enough because I fucking miss her. I’ll do anything to get her back. She makes me happy… I love her.

I text Sarah again, knowing I’ll need her help if I have any hope of another chance with Vivian.

Chapter 33

VIVIAN

Two Days Later

My watch vibrates, drawing my attention to the message from Leo that flashes on the screen. I press the side button to clear it, then pick up my phone.

“Sorry,” I apologize, distracted. “Leo just texted me again.” He’s been sending these sweet, persistent texts over the past few days, and they’re making it really hard for me to stay mad at him.

“Well, what does it say?” Sarah asks.

We’re on the patio ofThe Spur Bar and Grill, enjoying drinks and live music. Sarah is sipping on margaritas while I’m sticking to sparkling water.

Leo:Do you remember how Jacob falls for the girl from the bar, at the end of “Crazy, Stupid, Love"? And how I

said that would never be me?… It turns out I was wrong.

A smile tugs at my lips as I read his message. I turn my phone toward Sarah so she can see.

“Ahhh, that’s sweet,” she says, taking a thoughtful sip of her margarita. “What are you going to say back?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. It’s not like a few text messages mean he’s going to commit to me,” I say, resting my elbow on the tabletop and propping my chin on my fist.

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