Page 36 of If It Can't Be Us

“I’m good, how are you?” she asks, giving me a squeeze.

“I’m great. I’ve got one more session, and then I’ll wrap things up for today,” I say, sitting down and taking a bite of my steak. I purchased an indoor steak griller a few months back for the break room because I hate microwaved food—it tastes like shit. The aroma of freshly grilled steak fills the room, adding a touch of comfort to the hectic day.

Wednesdays are my therapy days, and I have one more couple that comes in at six.

The break room is homey, carpeted with two round tables and chairs. There’s a kitchenette area with a small fridge and microwave, a couch and coffee table, and large windows that let in plenty of natural light. It’s a cozy space that provides a much-needed respite.

Meredith takes a seat, crossing her legs casually. “So… Vivian is sweet…” She pauses, watching me as I eat. “I like her a lot.”

“Yeah, she’s great. I knew you’d like each other.”

She continues to watch me, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “And she’s smart, and beautiful, and cool, and fun…”

I drop my fork. “Stop. I know what you’re doing.”

“What? What did I say?” she asks, giving me an innocent look and smiling sweetly.

My eyes narrow and my jaw tightens slightly. “I know you, Meredith. It’s not about what you’re saying, it’s about what you’re not saying; so just fuckin’ say it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Leo, you’re not fooling anyone. You couldn’t keep your eyes off her the entire night.”

“Oh, bloody hell. She’s my friend. We see each other a lot; she lives right next door…” I take a swig of my water. “And yes, Vivian is gorgeous. I’m not in denial about that. There, you done?”

“You sure about that? Because it looked like you were gonna pounce a few times there, Tiger.”

“May I ask what your point is?” My patience is wearing thin.

“My point is, the way you were looking at her wasn’t just about her being beautiful, Leo. Hell, it’s no secret you can fuck a beautiful girl. You were looking at her with admiration. Different than I’ve ever seen you look at someone before.”

“I admire you,” I say, taking another bite. “Does that mean I wanna fuck you, Mer?” I smirk.

“Just be careful… For her sake. I know you. You’re stubborn…” She pauses, drumming her fingers on the table, her eyes watching me with intent. Like a goddamn therapist.

I stay silent. I’m not giving her the satisfaction right now.

She continues, “However, if youdoever stop being such a stubborn ass, she’s great, and I approve.” She smiles as she stands and strides toward the door.

“Thanks for your concern, Meredith!” I yell, while flipping her the bird.

Christ. Sometimes I hate how insightful she is. She reads people better than a bestselling novel. Having therapists as friends is one thing, but having Meredith, who specializes in substance abuse, is another. She deals with professional bullshitters all day, so there’s no point in ever trying to bullshit her.

Shit—was I that transparent with Vivian?

Chapter 9

Vivian

Thursday, November 2

I hate today.

It’s the worst.

It’s harder than all the other days. Harder than Christmas. Harder than Ben’s birthday. Harder than Thanksgiving.

There is only one day that’s worse than today, and that’s January 21, the day of the accident.

But today is my wedding anniversary. The day Ben and I chose to declare our love. The day hundreds of people came to celebrate our union after seven years of being together. The day we committed to each other for the rest of our lives; Ben’s being cut short decades too soon. Today represents all the hopes and dreams that I once had: the family we were going to raise together—three kids, the trip to Paris before my 30th birthday, and Japan for Ben’s. The second home we wanted to buy in Maui. Growing old and still drinking our morning coffee together, maybe with more silence as we sat, but a comfortable silence. Today is a punch in the face to my reality. Afuck youto Vivian Walker and her dreams… to Ben’s dreams. Today would have been six years married.

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