Page 57 of If It Can't Be Us

She buries her face in my chest, her sobs muffled against me. I stroke her hair gently, trying to offer what little comfort I can. “Let it out,” I murmur. “I’ve got you.”

Her cries gradually subside, leaving us in a quiet, intimate embrace. I can feel her heartbeat against mine, her breath slowing as she calms down. Slowly, she lifts her head, her eyes searching mine. Then, with hesitant vulnerability, she leans in and presses her lips to mine—a brief, tender kiss, more of a thank you than anything else, and it ends almost as quickly as it began.

Holy shit.

“Can you just hold me and stay until I fall asleep?” she asks softly, her voice raw but steady.

“Of course.”

As she turns around, settling herself into the curve of my body, we find ourselves spooning. Normally, in an intimate position like this, I’d be turned on. But right now, all I feel is a fierce need to be here for her, to take away her pain.

I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as she nestles against me. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper.

* * * * ** * * * *

I make my way back to my housearound 5 AM. Ashley’s still sleeping, and I desperately want her to be gone. I turn on the cold water for the shower and immerse myself.

The icy sting hits me, but I need it. I need the numbness, the clarity it brings. The water cascades over me, washing away the remnants of the night, but not the weight of her pain. Vivian’s nightmares, the trauma and sadness in her eyes—it’s all etched into my mind, haunting me more than I’d care to admit.

Under the relentless cold water, I feel my composure cracking. My chest tightens, a lump forming in my throat.

Tears threaten, but I hold them back. The freezing water mingles with the emotion buried deep inside me, and I let out a shuddering breath.

I brace myself against the shower wall, taking deep breaths. My mum’s angry voice echoes in my mind, yelling at me for reasons I never understood. Lately, I’ve been wondering if there’s more to my mum treating me like shit than I’ve let myself admit. Fuck, that’s a mess I’ll have to untangle someday.

I’ve done the work—hell, I had to unpack loads of shit in grad school. I’ve forgiven my mum, processed the trauma, come to terms with it. But the scars? They’re still there.

The water keeps pouring over me, each drop a bitter reminder of my own loss and the pain I see in Vivian. I take another deep breath, exhaling slowly, finding a strange sense of release. It’s fleeting, but it’s enough. Enough to remind me why I keep my distance, why getting too close is dangerous. But also enough to show me that, despite everything, I care more than I should.

The water eventually feels tepid against my skin, and I step out, wiping my face, washing away any evidence of the few tears that I shed. I drag my hands through my hair, “Get it together,” I mutter to myself. I glance at a framed picture on the wall, a quote I came across during jiujitsu as a teenager: “The obstacle is the way.”—Marcus Aurelius. I repeat it silently, finding strength in the words, reminding myself that every challenge has made me who I am.

Chapter 17

VIVIAN

Wednesday, December 6

I fling my purse onto the sofa and collapse beside it. Exhaustion washes over me. This week at work has been a whirlwind of deadlines, new clients, and preparing for my upcoming trip to Utah. I’m eager for the getaway but determined to avoid working while I’m there, which means cramming extra hours into my days until I leave. No time to dwell on my fatigue, though, Nick is picking me up in an hour for a night out at a winter rooftop bar. He’s been raving about the phenomenal chef and the incredible view of Millennium Park for days. Since weekend reservations are nearly impossible, I suggested we go tonight.

My phone dings with a text.

Leo:Fall semester officially over… Let’s go celebrate?

I glance above his message at the last text I sent him this morning. I hadn’t heard from him all day and had forgotten that today was his last day of the semester.

Vivian:I can’t tonight… I have dinner reservations with Nick. Tried to text you this morning. Congrats on last day tho, yay! Rain check?

Leo:I leave tomorrow…

Vivian:I know! How about later tonight? I can text you when I get back… we’ll have a celebratory toast.

Leo:Sure. Text me when you get back. Enjoy yourself, love.

Dammit. I really want to spend time with Leo before he leaves tomorrow, and I can’t believe I forgot his last day of the fall semester. Right now, all I want is to slip into my pajamas, curl up on the couch, and watch TV. But I am excited to see Nick. I’m liking him more and more, and while I’m not ready to have sex with him yet, I love kissing him. I grab my purse and walk up the two flights of stairs to my bedroom and stare at the clothes in my closet. What to wear? I choose a black sweater dress and knee-high boots. It’ll be cold, but we’ll only be outside for a minute. I think we plan to Uber to the bar. I freshen up my hair and makeup and stock my cream Valentino tote with my essentials for the evening.

I have thirty minutes to spare, and I’m not about to waste any of them. I turn onLove Island.Leo is always nice enough to watch it with me because he knows I love the mindlessness of it.

Nick texts me that he’s one minute away with the Uber. I grab my wool trench coat, throwing it on as I walk outside, lock up, and walk down the row of townhouses to the street.

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