Page 112 of Until Now

I wink at him. “BU has a great architecture program. He’ll be able to get a job anywhere.”

“With DV Designs?”

I roll my eyes. “I guess, we’ll see what happens.”

“Oh, Michaela mentioned at Christmas you have a speech coming up at some conference. What’s that about?”

“Una bocca così grande. Does she ever keep anything to herself?”

“You know who you’re talking about, right?”

We laugh.

“I haven’t decided if I’m gonna do it. I mean, standing in front of a bunch of people who think if they listen to me they’ll find some get rich quick idea. I don’t know if that’s for me.” I shrug. “If I can find something interesting to talk about, I might consider it.”

“You’ve led a pretty interesting life, I think you can find something. I mean, from party girl, to fake boyfriends, to your mom sleeping with your ex…the list goes on and on.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” I check my watch, “Shit, I gotta go. I’m supposed to be picking up food for Elizabeth.”

“Thanks for the invite,” he jokes.

“Trust me, I don’t want to go. I think picking up the food was Elizabeth’s way of making sure I come.”

Alex pulls me into a tight embrace.

“Tell them I said, Happy New Year.” Alex knows I mean Nick. I haven’t seen him since he left my house the morning after Christmas. When I returned from the board meeting, we agreed he would stay until December 26th. Then, we would go our separate ways…for now.

When the day finally came, I was woken up by a kiss goodbye. “I love you, Davina Bay,” he whispered and kissed me one last time. The sound of the front door echoed straight into my heart. But, I didn’t cry. We’re doing the right thing for both of us. And, the thought that one day we might find our way back to one another brought a smile to my lips.

“Happy New Year, Nina,” Alex whispers and squeezes me gently bringing me back to the present.

“Happy New Year, Alex.”

Part Three

“There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.”

- F. Scott Fitzgerald, “The Great Gatsby”

Chapter Sixty-Five

TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER

I follow Michaelaand Elizabeth out of the restaurant along the Boston Harbor. Turning down Atlantic Avenue, I tighten my ponytail through the baseball hat and slip sunglasses over my eyes. The closer we get to the hotel, the more my nerves grow — they’ve tripled in size from the time I woke up. I have spoken to many different groups, including women’s conferences, business conferences, and college classes, but it doesn’t matter how many times I do it, I still get nervous.

“Relax, Nin, you’re gonna be fine,” Michaela says over her shoulder. I always get like this before a speech. Halfway through lunch, they both noticed I started to grow quieter as the time ticked by.

“Are you still meeting up with Alex tonight?” Elizabeth asks, trying to take my mind off things.

“Supposed to,” I shrug, I’m thinking about canceling.

“Is that why you’re so nervous?” Michaela asks. “You think a certain someone might tag along?”

I roll my eyes. Alex and I have talked regularly through the years and he kept me up-to-date on what was going on in the Davis family. Jimmy has semi-retired, hiring a few of the local boys who were looking for a job. They’ve been able to triple business at the shop. He visited Boston every few months and the boys would come home for a short time on breaks. Nick graduated a week ago, but refused to walk despite Jimmy’s best attempts to convince him. He has gone on multiple interviews, has been offered most of the jobs, but has yet to find the right firm. Alex has enjoyed having his brother in the same state again, they spend most weekends together and with some of Nick’s architecture friends. Alex started dating someone, Anna Grant, a chemistry major; they actually met through one of Nick’s friends, Dean Monroe. Alex has always made sure to remind me that his brother still hasn’t found anyone else. Each time, I roll my eyes and say goodnight before he can say anything more.

As we approach the Boston Harbor Hotel, I notice a couple on the other side of the street. The man looks familiar, too familiar. His hair a little longer than the last time I saw him, curls more defined. The girl is petite, long brown hair sweeps side-to-side with each step, but I don’t recognize her.

“Nina? You okay?” Michaela waves a hand in front of my face.

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