I closed my eyes for a second, willing this awful nightmare that was rehab to dissolve before me. But when I opened them, it still loomed—the packed bag, the sad girl, my mother’s ominous presence in the car downstairs.
“I don’t want to ask you to wait for me, but if you feel the way I do, you will. I won’t have to ask at all.”
Nicolette nodded. A silent promise was shared between us.
I pulled her up from the bed, wrapping her in my arms again. She squeezed me tightly, her petite body shaking as her tears wet the front of my shirt. By the time we separated, her face was red and splotchy, her eyes wet. I wiped a tear from her face, licking it off my finger, before leaning down once more to capture her mouth for one last kiss.
When we came up for air, we were both breathless and disoriented.
“I’ll call you if I’m allowed, but they may take my phone.”
She nodded. “It’s okay. Be careful on your way up.”
I nodded back. “Bye, Nic.”
“Bye, Henry.”
I turned and walked from the room, dragging my suitcase behind me, unable to look back at her because I was afraid of what I would see. I was afraid the promise she made, to be here when I got back, was just an illusion.
Chapter 22
Nicolette
Six weeks later
“Is that it?” I asked, looking over at Dr. Harper where she sat back in her wingback chair, one leg crossed over the other, her notebook perched on her knee.
Dr. Harper glanced at the clock behind my head, but I didn’t turn around. She nodded.
“We’ve really made a breakthrough, don’t you think?” she asked me as she skimmed the notes on her notepad.
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure if we had. I just knew that since Henry left, I hadn’t had the urge to hook up with anyone. But I also wasn’t in the best head space because I missed him. Terribly.
To add to my depressive mood, Liza had moved out and into Jackson’s apartment and I was all alone. I hated being alone.
“Is there something else you wanted to discuss with me, Nicolette?” Dr. Harper asked, concern knitting her brows.
I shrugged again. Over the last month, we’d delved deep into the guilt I felt about my mother’s suicide. I also talked to her about Henry—how I felt about him and his addiction. Dr. Harper knew all of my dark secrets, and though we’d talked them out and worked through them, I was still not feeling one hundred percent.
“I don’t know. I’m happy that Henry will be home in two days. I’m happy for Liza and Jackson. And I’m happy that I was able to start coming to terms with my mother’s death. But something still feels off.” I was always honest with Dr. Harper.
“Do you think it has something to do with Henry’s return?” she asked.
“It feels like it. But I can’t figure out why.”
“Maybe you’re worried that he won’t be the same person now that he’s completely sober? Or are you worried he won’t feel the same about you now that he’s been away for so long?”
I nodded. “I think it’s both of those things,” I said.
“But what else?” Dr. Harper always knew when I wasn’t being honest with myself.
I sighed, resting my head back against the chair. I knew what it was, but I was afraid to say it. “What if he doesn’t want me anymore when I tell him about my promiscuous past? What if Liza judges me when I come clean to her? I have to tell them, but I’m so worried they’ll look at me differently.”
Dr. Harper looked at me again for a moment before she spoke. “Liza is your best friend, right?”
I nodded.
“She’s done a lot of things you haven’t agreed with, hasn’t she?”
I nodded again as the previous month with her and Jackson came rushing back—Paris, the lies, the baby that wasn’t his.
“Yes.”
“And have you ever judged her for those things? Or did you want the best for her?”
“I didn’t judge. Even though I wouldn’t have made the same choices, she had her reasons and they were hers. I respected that,” I answered truthfully
“Then you have your answer as far as Liza goes. She loves you and she will support you no matter what.” Dr. Harper set her notepad down on the table and stood.
My time was up.
I got up from the couch, smoothing my sweater over my leggings. Walking to the door, I mulled over what Dr. Harper said about Liza in my head. She was right. I would have to have a talk with Liza as soon as possible.
“What about Henry? Do you think he’ll judge me? Feel differently about me?” I asked her, my hand on the doorknob.
Dr. Harper shrugged. “I don’t know the answer to that, Nicolette, but if everything you’ve told me about Henry is true, I don’t think he will.”
I bobbed my head up and down. “Okay. Thank you, Dr. Harper.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you next week.”
I left the office with a few more answers and some clarity. But why did I still feel so anxious about seeing Henry in two days?
Over the last month, the only communication I’d had with him was a weekly email he sent from an email account associated with the facility. He’d update me on how he was and ask how I was doing, how the job was going, and if Liza and Jax had killed each other yet.
It was in these emails that we decided to see each other a few days after he came home. For some reason, I was terrified. None of it made any sense.
Hailing a cab, I made my way back uptown to my apartment. Because Liza had moved out so recently, I kept forgetting she wasn’t there, and today was no exception. There were so many things I wanted to talk to her about, but I was greeted with a quiet, lonely apartment. Something solid lodged itself in my chest at the realization. Sighing, I fished my phone from my purse to call her.
She answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Liza. I just got home and forgot that you moved out again,” I said with a little chuckle. I felt so foolish admitting that.
She laughed. “Did you walk in talking again?”
This time I laughed for real. “No, but in my defense, you had just moved out the day before.”
Liza laughed harder at that. “I guess you’re right.” She paused, and I heard her move the phone away and mumble something before she came back on the line. “So, what’s up?”
I bit my lip, stalling a moment. “Are you free for a girl’s night this weekend? I was thinking we could order in and watch an old cheesy movie, like we used to.”
“Sure! Jax is going out of town on Saturday, so I’ll be all alone anyway. We should do a sleepover!”
Relief washed over me. I wanted to get everything off my chest sooner rather than later. Because Henry would be back Sunday and I was going to see him Monday.
And Dr. Harper told me it was time to come clean with those I cared about.
We chatted for a few more minutes, making plans for the next night, before hanging up. I felt better and less anxious about everything that had changed over the last month. Not that everything that had occurred was terrible. My new job was wonderful and working with Henry’s mom was surprisingly pleasant. Liza and Jackson had worked out all of their problems and they were “crazy in love.”
But I was all alone.
It was funny how I kept coming back to that.
Growling in frustration, I stood up from where I had sunk into the couch and marched to the freezer. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s would take care of it.
* * *
“What should we watch?” I asked Liza as she unpacked the cheese fries and chicken tenders from the takeout bag.
“Hmmm, let me think,” she said, popping a fry into her mouth.
“Dirty Dancing? Save the Last Dance? Footloose?” I called out a few movies as I set out plates and napkins on the coffee table.
“Why are they all dance-themed?” She giggled as we set up the food buffet style on the coffee table.
I shrugged. “Maybe I’m in
the mood to dance.”
Liza rolled her eyes. “Do not even suggest a club, Nic. Jax would lose it if he called and I was in a club without him.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “What is he, the boss of you?” I asked her with mirth, shoving her in the side.
She shook her head. “He’s a little possessive, I’ll give you that. But he’s far from the boss of me. He almost canceled this business trip because I was worried about being alone in the new apartment and he felt bad leaving me. That’s why we were both glad you invited me over. I don’t do well on my own.”
“Who you tellin’?” I said, trying to make it sound like a joke.
Liza set down her wine, her eyes meeting mine. She saw right through me.
“What’s going on, Nic? You’ve been distant. That’s not like you. And you seem so down. Is this about Henry?”
I looked away from her, wondering if I should stall until later before I told her everything, but I was ready to get it over with.
“Sort of. I mean, I miss him and I’m worried that when he comes home, he won’t feel the same way he felt before. But there’s something else. Something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
Liza scooted closer, food and wine forgotten as her eyes widened with worry. “What is it? Are you all right? Is something wrong health wise?”
I shook my head quickly to dispel her worry. “No, no, nothing like that.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve been talking with Dr. Harper a lot, about my past and, I think it’s time to share with everyone close to me a secret I’ve been keeping.”
Liza leaned even closer and whispered, “A secret?”
“Yeah. I, uh, well, for a couple of years, since college, I’ve been sleeping with random men as a way to cope with my depression and anxiety. Mostly because I haven’t been able to deal with the guilt of my mother’s death and feeling like I could have helped her.”
Liza’s face changed. She sat back against the edge of the couch and held her chest. “That’s all? God, Nic, you scared the hell out of me.”
I looked at her as she picked her glass back up and downed a gulp of wine before wiping the back of her mouth on her sleeve.
“You don’t feel like I’ve been living a double life? Like I’ve been lying to you?” I’d expected a worse reaction than this. Any reaction at all.
Liza shrugged. “I think I would be more worried about you if it was something you were still doing. But I can tell by the way you told me, and how much you’ve been going to see your therapist, that it’s in the past. I’m a little hurt you didn’t come to me sooner, but I’m sure you had your reasons. We all cope differently with loss, Nicolette. When my mom left us, I slipped into a pretty gnarly eating disorder, but my dad was so diligent about it that I was able to get the help I needed.”
It was my turn to be shocked. “I didn’t know you had an eating disorder.”
Liza nodded. “From age twelve until I was almost fifteen. I got down to almost eighty pounds. Dad put me in a residential facility for a while. I’ve been healthy since, but even so, if I feel like the old habits are starting back up, I have the means to cope with them.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I asked her. I wasn’t angry, just surprised. Now I understood her reaction to my news.
She shrugged. “I was worried about the same thing you were—I thought you would think less of me. I told you now because you shared something personal with me.”
We stared at each other, not speaking for a moment before embracing in a tight hug. When we let go, I let out an awkward laugh.
“I think it’s time to chow down and watch a movie now that we have the heavy stuff out of the way,” Liza said.
I nodded, reaching for the cheese fries.
One down, one to go.
Chapter 23
Nicolette
My stomach fluttered as I shot a glance at the clock over my office door. It was almost noon. Henry would be getting back from the rehab facility soon. In just under an hour. I wasn’t seeing him until Wednesday, yet here I was, on a Sunday afternoon, in the office so I could distract myself. Working on the weekend wasn’t my thing; I liked to keep a regular nine-to-five schedule and let work be work, especially since my previous boss made me work so much overtime. But today, I needed to keep busy, to keep myself from going to him though my stomach was in knots about having dinner with him on Wednesday.
I pressed a hand to my stomach as it flipped over. Shaking my head, I opened the file I had been working on and glanced over the graphics and information we were planning to use to update Lori Radcliffe’s website. Everything was in order. This was my first big project for the fashion house, and I wanted to get it right. Beatrice loved my ideas and raved about the new designs I wanted to put on our advertising and web space, but I was still anxious.
I didn’t feel like I’d earned the job, though Beatrice reassured me she still would have hired me without Henry’s input.
That didn’t stop me from feeling like a fraud.
My phone buzzed on my desk with a text from my dad.
Dad: Hey, baby girl! How’s your Sunday? Want to grab dinner downtown tonight?
I groaned, not because I didn’t want to see my dad, but because sometimes he was too present, too available. He was too in my face. We’d had lunch just yesterday—our standing Saturday lunch date. Sometimes it felt like he was trying too hard to make sure I was happy.
He had no idea that his actions had no bearing on my happiness. I was solely responsible for that.
Me: I’m working today. I’m going to use tonight to unwind and regroup. It’s been a long week.
Dad: On a Sunday?! Don’t work too hard, darling.
Me: I won’t! Call you later! Love you!
Dad: Love you! XOXO
I set my phone down, rubbing a hand over my face. Truth be told, my heart wasn’t in work right now, and beyond that, there wasn’t anything pressing that I had to work on. Standing, I stretched my arms over my head. I needed to go home.
I shrugged into my heavy winter coat, prepared to walk a little in the late January air, because I needed the chill to clear my head. Packing up my bag, I shoved the files for tomorrow’s meeting in behind my laptop, zipped it up and swung it over my shoulder. Thoughts of Henry swam in my head, and I looked at my watch again to see the time. He would be back in the city soon, within reach.
My stomach turned over again and I groaned. I missed him—his smile, his easy conversation, his cheesy jokes. In just over two weeks, I had become dependent on him. Then he left and it was like I was back to being the lonely, anxious girl I had been before I met him, except without the crutch of promiscuity that I’d leaned on to numb my pain. I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. I wasn’t sure if it was co-dependent and unhealthy for me to wish to have him back.
Would we destroy each other again? Would we undo all that we had achieved during the month we had been separated by being together again?
I realized, for the first time, that this was my biggest fear and the reason I was so scared to see Henry again.
I froze on the sidewalk in front of the building, the loud click of my stilettos on the concrete halting. The city was dead at this time of day in the Garment District, on a Sunday, and I was virtually alone. My breath clouded in front of me as I stood there, mulling over the fear that I had finally been able to manifest into words.
After a little while, the cold began to seep into my wool coat and under my dress, despite the thick tights I wore. Shaking my head, I walked on. I would need to catch a cab at some point or risk frost bite, but for now, I was going to walk. Shoving my hands farther into my pockets, I hunched against the frigid air that whipped through the large buildings as I headed back uptown. My head was a whirlwind of thoughts, jumping all over the place but ultimately landing on Henry. By the time I looked up, I had walked farther than I thought, and my building was only a block away. There would be no need for a cab.
“Hello, Miss Fowler,” the doorman sa
id with a smile as I entered the building.
“Hello,” I answered cordially, though my head wasn’t in it.
The chill from outside seemed to follow me into the elevator, chasing me into my apartment, and settling inside my gut. A hot shower and bowl of soup couldn’t chase it away, and I soon realized it wasn’t the January chill but dread that was chilling me to my bone. I went to bed early that night, my mind racing and shivering as I tried to will away the terrible thoughts that had chased me all the way home from work.
I knew what decision I would have to make. But would it break me in the end?
* * *
Wednesday dawned bright, cold, and snowy, and lodged what felt like a solid block of ice in my gut. I was up early, which was unusual for me, dressed and ready for work. From the kitchen I could see out the large windows that faced Central Park. Snow blanketed the tops of the trees and grass, but for now, the streets were still a slushy mess. I picked up my phone from the counter, opened the Uber app and ordered a car. While I waited, I prepared a travel mug of coffee, sipping on it gently so as not to burn my tongue as I packed my bag for work. I was meeting Henry for dinner after work. That morning I had dressed carefully, pairing a sweater dress with heeled boots, swept my hair to the side and pinned it up. I had obsessed over what to wear the night before, tossing every dress I owned out onto the bed to sift through the pile. But I knew it was only my nerves at seeing Henry that was making me obsess. He didn’t care what I wore.
The doorman buzzed from downstairs to let me know the car was there. I grabbed all my belongings and headed downstairs, patting my hair as I looked at my reflection in the glass of the elevator.
“Have a good day, Miss Fowler,” James said as he held the door open for me.
“You, too, James.” I gave him a slight nod before climbing into the car.
The ride downtown took a while because of traffic, but I got to work earlier than normal because of my early start. I was worried it would give me too much time to think and worry, but my workday sped by with meetings, consultations, and paperwork. When I finally had time to sit and glance at my watch, it was already quarter after five.
One Chance Page 13