Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

  “Which is romantic,” someone said.

  I nodded. “It is, but why should I have to be reminded of that? Because relationships aren’t always that way. Sometimes you forget that you’re madly in love.” My nostrils flared as I held in another hiccup. “Happens to everyone.”

  “Olivia, for fuck’s sake—”

  “Sorry, Gretchen,” I said, shrugging. “But I don’t want Lucy to be disappointed.”

  “Are you disappointed?” Bethany asked.

  “No, because I learned early on what marriage is about,” I said. “It’s about stability, and partnership, and it takes a lot of work. Thinking that it will be easy because it’s ‘true love’ is stupid. That’s just another form of faith for those who can’t deal with reality.”

  “That’s enough,” Dani said.

  I frowned at Lucy’s sister. “Better to be prepared.”

  “I really don’t think Andrew and I are that way,” Lucy said. “We’re—”

  “Different?” I interjected.

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. “I hope you are.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Dani said, comforting her sister by taking her hand. “Just because her marriage is—”

  I didn’t catch what Dani said. All I heard was the echo of David’s warnings months ago.

  “If you want a satisfactory marriage with someone who’s incapable of loving you the way you deserve . . .”

  “I mean, I get what you’re saying,” Lucy said to me. “I know you and Bill work at your marriage, but I’m excited to work together with Andrew. I love him. There’s no one else I would have wanted to do this with.”

  “Not even Kyle Medley?” I asked, smiling to myself as I took another sip. “Come on, you said the same thing about him in college.”

  “You’ve had enough,” Gretchen said, reaching for my drink.

  I recoiled, sloshing pink liquid on my dress. “Damn,” I muttered, swiping at the stain.

  “Kyle Medley meant nothing,” Lucy said calmly. “I didn’t know what love was until I met Andrew.”

  I blinked at her once and then burst into laughter. Lucy had been lovesick over her last college boyfriend, Kyle. When he’d dumped her, she’d skipped a family reunion in Hawaii so she could stay in bed and wallow over how she’d thought he was going to propose. “Lucy, do you hear yourself?” I asked. “You’re just saying all this because to admit otherwise would mean you could be marrying anyone right now. Including Kyle Medley.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” Dani said.

  “I’m making perfect sense! If instead of dumping you, Kyle had proposed, you would have said yes.” I cocked my head. “Hence, the eradication of the soulmates theory. At the time, you thought he was your soulmate. And if you and Andrew broke up and you met someone else, you’d say he was your soulmate.”

  “You’re putting words in my mouth,” Lucy said. “I never thought Kyle Medley was ‘the one.’”

  My face scrunched under the weight of my skepticism. “Okay,” I said, holding up a hand. “If that’s your story.”

  Lucy’s face etched with worry when she looked from her sister to Gretchen. “So are you saying that Bill isn’t your soulmate?” she asked me after a moment.

  “I’m saying the whole ludicrous idea doesn’t exist.” I nodded firmly. “And Bill would agree with me.”

  “So what do you suggest, that nobody ever get married?” Dani asked, not bothering to hide her disdain.

  “What? No,” I said emphatically. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Just don’t make it into something it’s not. Obviously, Bill and I love each other, and we’re happy, and we’re building this life together—but to say that it’s this fairy-tale romance where we make love on a bed of rose petals every night, I mean . . . that’s what Lucy wants.”

  “No, I don’t,” she said. “But Andrew and I share something pure that neither of us could experience with someone else. Romance isn’t exclusive to sex. And even as we get older or fight or have kids, we’ll still have that passion for only each other.”

  I only raised my eyebrows and gripped the table when the room undulated suddenly.

  “She’s crazy,” Dani said softly about me, but I heard her anyway. “Don’t listen to a word of her horseshit ‘advice.’”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Dani,” I said, swaying slightly. “How long have you been married?”

  Lucy gawked at me. “Liv.”

  “No, she’s right.” Dani pursed her lips at me. “I’m not married. None of us are.”

  I gave the table a hard nod and pointed to Dani. “See? She knows I have a point.”

  “I’m calling you a cab,” Gretchen said, digging in her purse.

  “Don’t make me the bad guy, Gretchen,” I pleaded, suddenly upset that nobody understood. “I’m just trying to be honest. It doesn’t mean I love Bill any less or that I’m not happy. I am happy. I just want Lucy to be happy, too.”

  Lucy came to sit next to me, enfolding us in a lavender cloud as she hugged me. “I know,” she said, squeezing my shoulders. “Nobody thinks you’re the bad guy. Everyone is happy.”

  “Good,” I said. “You smell nice.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Thank you.”

  “Do you want me to call her a cab?” Gretchen asked, ignoring me.

  “Actually, I think it might be time to call it a night,” Lucy said. “I don’t want to be puffy on Sunday.”

  We all emphatically agreed that we did not want to be puffy for the wedding, either, so Ava and Bethany went to hail cabs while Lucy left for the restroom.

  “You know, you really should keep your marital problems to yourself,” Dani said to me as we settled the bill. “Lucy doesn’t need to hear that a couple days before she walks down the aisle.”

  “I don’t have marital problems,” I said, eyeing her.

  Did she know something?

  No. No matter how badly I’d hurt David, he wouldn’t betray me by telling our secret. Especially not to Lucy’s sister.

  “All the same, don’t spoil this for her,” Dani said. “She already worries about you too much when she should be focusing on herself right now.”

  I looked over at Gretchen for backup, but she only shook her head. “I’m with Dani on this one, Liv. Remember what we talked about? This weekend is about Lucy. You promised, and so far, you’re doing a shitty job.”

  Fine. Whatever. So I’d had a few drinks. So I’d managed to forget, for a moment, the agony of my life. Of how I’d fucked up and often thought about doing it again. Of what was coming for Bill and me, especially if we bought the Oak Park house. Of having and losing a man like David Dylan in the course of one night.

  My eyes drifted back to Dani, narrowing. I imagined David sitting next to her, touching her hair and rubbing her back. He would smile mildly at me, and that’d be the worst part. His impassive eyes would regard me like an old friend. Someone he once knew. Maybe he still had that passion, but it would be for her or for someone else. Not for me. He wouldn’t look at me the same way anymore.

  * * *

  I stumbled into my apartment and shut the heavy door quietly behind me. I tossed my keys at the table but missed, so they landed on the floor with a clang. I kicked off my heels and moved through the dark, trying not to wake Bill.

  Tiptoe, tiptoe, shh . . .

  My shin knocked against the bedframe. “Shit, fuck!” I hissed.

  “Liv?”

  “Sorry, babe, I hin my shit. Er, I hit my shin on the bed,” I said, stifling a laugh.

  The bed rustled with movement. “How was the bachelorette party?”

  “Good,” I responded, and I could see his teeth flash in the dark. “We drank pink Cosmos at dinner and then tequila and . . . other stuff, I don’t remember.”

  “So you had fun?” he asked.

  “Yup. You?”

  “Yeah, we had a good time, too. Andrew’s brothers are a little immature, but whatever.”

  “Gretche
n fell off a curb on our way out of the club.” I snickered and then broke into a fit of laughter, clutching my side. “She’s worried about her skinned elbow in the bachelorette dress.”

  “You seem better,” Bill said cautiously when I’d recovered.

  Am I? I didn’t know how to respond, because I wasn’t sure. Since my talk with Gretchen, I’d tried to be more affable. I didn’t feel back to normal, but I wasn’t sure I ever would. How could I, knowing what I’d done? How could things ever go back to the way they were?

  “Bill,” I said softly. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

  The sheets rustled again, and I jumped when he touched me. He rotated me by my hips and unzipped my party dress so it fell to the ground. His figure rose from the bed, and he found my lips with a gentle kiss.

  “Wait,” I said when he pulled away. I wrapped my arms around his neck. It felt nice to be kissed and touched after months of loneliness. Maybe being with Bill again would remind me of our love. He could end all my inner battles.

  He removed his boxers quickly as we kissed and then urged me backward onto the bed. He climbed on top of me, and I held his face to mine. When he nudged between my legs, I whispered, “Slow down. Kiss me first.”

  I ran my hands over his long back and shut my eyes while he kissed me. I sought a connection with my hands and my tongue, but my head began to spin. I opened my eyes. The room spun, too. He pecked me on the lips before pulling away.

  I blinked up, focusing on the ceiling.

  What have I done? Something is lost. I’ve driven a wedge between us—does he feel it, too?

  Bill returned, his hands sliding down and spreading me open. “Wait,” I groaned as dread and tequila flooded me. He started to push into me. “Wait, just—just slow down! Jesus.”

  He jerked back and hovered over me. “What?” he asked, bewildered.

  “You’re . . . you’re moving too fast, can’t you feel that I’m not ready?”

  “All right,” he said, sitting back on his calves. “What do you want me to do? You don’t like foreplay.”

  I heaved a sigh. I’d told him that once, because foreplay had grown long and tedious, a frustrating race to see if I could finish when I knew I wouldn’t. After all these years with Bill, I’d gradually given up the chase for my orgasm, only to have David Dylan find it in one night.

  Fuck. What was wrong with me, thinking about David right now? “Never mind,” I said, getting up and righting my underwear.

  “Seriously?” Bill asked. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to know what I want,” I snapped. My tongue soured with the unfair words that had been rotting in me for too long.

  “I thought I did.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” I backed away and stumbled over my dress. “It’s my thing. It’s not you. I’m really sorry.”

  “Babe, the sex . . . I know it’s been a while . . .” He paused. “But you don’t mean that, do you?”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed them. “No. No, of course not.” The world moved behind my lids, and my jaw tickled. “I’m sorry,” I repeated and took off for the bathroom.

  He called after me. I scrambled to my knees and leaned over the toilet seconds before throwing up.

  “Oh, shit,” I heard as Bill gathered my hair in his hand. “Did you eat anything at dinner?”

  I shook my head into the toilet and released a stream of pink liquid. I sat back against the wall, closed my eyes, and repeated, “I’m sorry.”

  He crouched down beside me. “It’s all right. You had too much to drink, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll get you some water.”

  I let my head fall into my hands. I was awash with shame for spurning Bill and for letting the alcohol incite memories of David all night.

  I just want it to end. I want to rid myself of David and of everything I’ve been holding inside. The guilt, the shame, the lust, the longing.

  When I was hit with another wave of nausea, I gripped the toilet and vomited every last thing inside me.

  * * *

  I’m running, but I’m not moving. I’m being chased, but my legs are heavy. Impossible to lift. The leadenness rises up my arms and settles in my chest, strangling me from the inside out. And someone’s hands are around my neck. My chest is collapsing, and I am gasping, rasping for air . . .

  I sucked in air suddenly, and my eyes flew open. When I couldn’t move, panic filtered through me until I realized why. Bill was holding me. It had been a while since he had, so I fought the urge to break free and move to my side of the bed.

  “Liv?” he murmured sleepily.

  “It’s all right, just another nightmare,” I said.

  “Hmm? Nightmare? Must be the alcohol.” He pulled me closer, and I sighed, yielding to him.

  4

  I pulled the zipper of my bridesmaid dress up over my ribs and wondered if I could get away with wearing a shawl. It was loose and revealed too much. Up until now, I’d been consciously disguising my weight loss. But I knew a shawl wouldn’t be approved. Lucy had worn a serious expression as she’d warned us about altering our bridesmaid dresses in any way, because she wanted us looking identical as we stood next to her.

  “Where’s Liv?” I heard from the next room.

  “In here,” I called.

  At Andrew’s family’s behemoth of a house in Winnetka, we took up a few rooms in the “east wing,” as Andrew’s mother had called it. I leaned into the mirror and gave my makeup a once-over. Because my face had become thinner, my eyes looked even larger than normal. The deep Bordeaux gown perfectly complemented their shade of green and the dark honey color of my hair.

  Lucy had hired professionals to transform the four of us for her big day. She was the glowing princess while Gretchen, Dani, and I were sultry triplets. We donned identical messy chignons and dramatic makeup, with wine-colored pouts to match our dresses.

  I swiped a lipstick smudge from the corner of my mouth. In the day’s chaos, it had been easy to avoid my thoughts. But now I braced myself against the vanity table. Tonight, I would see David again, and I had no plan. Beads of sweat formed on my upper lip just thinking about it.

  Gretchen breezed in, still dressed in one of the red satin bridesmaid robes we’d all received. She halted when she saw me. “Liv,” she said, passing her eyes over me. “Shit. You’re really skinny.”

  “Stop,” I said, crossing my arms into myself. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  She walked over and pulled on the armhole of the dress. “This is big. I knew you’d lost weight, but this is too much.” She ran a finger over my chest that left chills in its wake. “I can, like, see your ribs.”

  “You cannot,” I countered, puffing up. “I just know I’m going to be cold, though. Do you think Lucy will let me wear something over my shoulders?”

  “After this weekend, will you please go talk to someone?” Gretchen asked. “You’re depressed.”

  Depressed? I reeled back at the accusation. As far as she and everyone knew, I was in mourning. That was allowed, wasn’t it? “I am not depressed. Yes, I’ve lost weight, but I have been working a lot.”

  And how can I eat when I feel so sick to my stomach all the time?

  “Don’t make me call your father,” Gretchen said. “I will, I swear.”

  I scowled and turned sideways in the mirror, which only made me look gaunt.

  Lucy’s glossy brown locks were twisted up and away from her face, not a single strand astray. Her simple dress had delicate, beaded cap sleeves and a fitted bodice that emphasized her small waist. Thankfully, she didn’t comment on my weight. Instead, she told us all that we looked perfect and that she was honored to have us in her bridal party. We met at a window and watched from the second floor as guests gathered on the house’s sprawling, vibrantly green lawn, then followed a walkway lined with candles to their seats.

  “Are you ready?” Dani asked, touching Lucy’s shoulder. “I think it’s time.”

 
Everyone filtered out of the room. “Lucy,” I called before she left.

  She turned and linked her arm with mine.

  “I’m sorry about what I said the other night,” I said.

  “I know,” she said, her smile genuine.

  “Of course I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. You and Andrew will be so happy. I’m not sure why I said what I did. I mean, except that I mixed Cosmos and tequila.”

  “It’s no big deal,” she said. “Andrew and I are meant for each other, and we know that. That’s all that matters.”

  I nodded, but something about the confidence in her voice gave me a sinking feeling. I hadn’t doubted anything on my wedding day. But had I ever felt so sure and secure in my love for Bill? And why was doubt creeping in now, five years later, with the obvious next step on the horizon?

  Downstairs, on the lawn, we found Lucy’s wedding planner. She led us to where our corresponding groomsmen waited. I’d gotten Bill into a tuxedo. The fabric hung nicely from his tall, slender frame because I’d insisted that he see a tailor despite the cost. He extended his hand to me, and I slipped into place comfortably beside him.

  “You look gorgeous,” he whispered in my ear as we waited behind Gretchen, whose arm was linked with Andrew’s brother.

  “Thank you.” I rose up on the balls of my feet and kissed his crooked nose. “Our turn,” I whispered, stepping forward. I squeezed his hand with the intention of hanging onto it all night.

  * * *

  The ceremony was Lucy-style perfect without any glitches or awkward pauses. We all clapped and grinned giddily as Andrew and Lucy were declared husband and wife, and Andrew dipped her for a kiss. After congratulations had been dealt, we, as a bridal party unit, broke off from the crowd for pictures. Having kept my eyes glued forward during the ceremony, I hadn’t seen David. Because of how desperately I wanted a glimpse of him, I knew it would be best if he’d changed his mind about showing up.