Page 111 of The Singles Club
She held a hand over her mouth thoughtfully for a few seconds before bringing it down again. “Has he told you about Anna?”
Who is Anna?
“No.”
She seemed to be struggling with something internally before finally continuing. “Anna was his wife.”
Wife?
Wow.
“She passed away three years ago.”
Every word was like a stab to the gut. I hugged my arms around my waist. “I didn’t know.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, it’s not my place, I know that, but you don’t know what her death did to my son.” She clasped her hands together tightly, pausing for a breath. “I didn’t think he would ever move past that… and I thank the heavens every day for Brock because I couldn’t get through to Justin for months and months. He closed off from everyone, and he’d never been like that before. He was so open and affectionate and generally happy… even when things weren’t going so well. He always had a way of putting a smile on your face.”
My hands shook, and I could barely breathe.
“After a year, Brock did convince Justin to get out there again, and he did… but didn’t find a successful relationship. He pretty much gave up… until you.”
She grabbed both my hands, squeezing tight. “If you love Justin and know what you want, then you have my blessing over and over again. Iwanthim to love again and be happy and have that family he always wanted.”
My eyes burned, and I took my hand away to wipe away a tear streaming down my cheek.
“Relationships are hard enough, but a successful one needs a common goal to strive towards. For Justin, his marriage and family would come first; all the rest is secondary. Goals and aspirations would be fine, but I tell you he’d give up any one of them if it conflicted with what is most important to him.” She stroked my arm. “I can’t tell you what to do. Ultimately that decision belongs solely to you and Justin. But I do ask that if you’re unsure or not ready… please don’t string him along. I’m not sure how he would handle another heartbreak.”
I looked down at my hands hanging limply in my lap. The warmth from a fresh tear splashed off my skin.
“I’m sorry,” Gwen whispered.
“No. I understand.” I got up from the bed, avoiding her eyes. “Sorry… I just… need to be alone for a little while before we leave.”
As I walked up the stairs in half a daze, anger started to fill my chest, but I couldn’t even figure out where, or at whom, to lash it.
I was angry at Gwen for telling me. At Justin for not telling me. I was mad that a woman he loved—a woman who knew what she wanted and obviously loved Justin—was taken from him. I was angry at my parents for their fights and my mother for her coldness. Angry at myself for my past relationships and my stupid theories about love. By the time I got to the guest room, I closed the door and curled up on the bed, wanting nothing but to forget all of it and sleep.
* * *
Justin
Vivian was unusually quiet on the ride home. She said she had a headache, but my gut told me it was way more than that. She texted on her phone a few times, but never uttered more than a few words to me. When we reached Boston, she shifted in her seat, her face forward. “Would you mind stopping at my family’s apartment?”
“Not at all. Did you need something?”
She didn’t answer and looked out the window. When I pulled up in front of her brownstone, I shifted into park. Vivian didn’t move.
“Do you need me to go up for you?”
She shook her head. “No...I think it would be best if I stay here until I go to Paris.”
The unmistakable sadness in her voice was like a punch in the chest, ripping the air from my lungs.
This was a breakup.
“Vivian, what is going on?” I reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “You were fine when I left with my father this morning. Did my mother say something to you?”
She covered her face with her hands and wiped at her eyes. “This has nothing to do with your mother. It has to do withme.” She turned her head toward me, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m a mess, Justin. I don’t know what I want. I never did. I wasn’t brought up like you with parents who adore each other and make their family a number one priority.” She threw her hands up. “I can’t even make a relationship work with someone who lives in the same city. Do you really think I could make it work while living in separate countries?”
