We Are Us

Chapter 32 New York City

One and a half Years Later

It’s been ten years since I first met Gavin. A decade since I went for a walk in the woods and was startled by a beautiful boy with wild tawny hair and wide bee-stung lips and a fading bruise beneath his left eye.

A lot has happened in that time. Laughter and love, tears and heartbreak. I went from a child to an adult, from a girl to a woman. Next week, I will be a bride, then a wife.

But whatever maturity I’ve gained, the experiences that have informed my composure…

All of it is ripped away from me in an instant, as if it had never been there at all.

Stolen by the one man who will always hold a slice of my heart in his hands, a piece of my soul in his stare.

Gavin.

At the sight of him, leaning oh so casually against a marble pillar in the lobby of my apartment building, the blood drains from my face, a ripple of awareness cartwheeling down my spine. Holy shit, Gavin. The struggle to process my shock is compounded a thousand times over by an instinctive, unfiltered, undiluted joy.

When my footsteps slow, Gavin closes the distance between us until we are so close that I can see the stubble dusting his jaw like the fine-grained sand. So close that his cerulean gaze cuts right through me. So close that the magnetic pull between us draws me even closer.

Silence stretches out as I force myself to stand my ground. I ca

I’m so sorry, Gavin. So sorry that I’ve done this to us.

“Is it true?” he finally blurts, his voice leaden as he pins me with a broken stare.

“Is what true?” I finally manage to say, although what I want to do is throw myself at Gavin’s feet and beg his forgiveness. To leap into his arms hold on tight.

To find out if Gavin still smells like clean laundry and pinecones. If our hearts will still sync to the same rhythm.

I want to go back in time, to the way we were, to the place we fell in love, to the people we used to be.

I want…

“You’re getting married.” Gavin’s eyes drop to my left hand, not a question but a statement.

“I—” Words fail me and I look over Gavin’s shoulder, as if I can make sense of everything that’s happened to keep us apart. I don’t find an explanation, but I do catch the interested stare of one of the building’s security guards. “Let’s not do this here. Will you come up?”

I immediately regret it. Not because I don’t want to talk with Gavin privately, but because I know Tucker will be furious if he finds out. I should have suggested that we go to the Starbucks around the corner, or for a walk.

But Gavin gives a terse nod, and I lead him to the bank of elevators at the back of the building, the guard’s disapproving stare penetrating the thin fabric of my blouse. We stand facing front, the subtle chime as we pass each floor emphasizing our awkward silence.

“Can I get you something?” I ask as soon as we get inside. “Soda, water? Something stronger?” Isla, the housekeeper Tucker hired, was here this morning. Every pillow has been fluffed and puffed, the edges perfectly straight. There is not a speck of dust to be found on any surface. And the airs smells of lemons and bleach.

“I’m fine,” he replies.

I drop my purse on the console table and walk to the couch. Gavin follows, taking a seat in the adjacent chair. “I’m sorry. I—” My voice falters and I look down at my hands, fighting the urge to twist my engagement ring around my finger until the sparkling diamond is hidden. Not that it matters, Gavin has already seen it.

“When’s the big day?”

I clear my throat. “Next week.”

Gavin leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Poppy, are you sure about this?” His eyes make a quick sweep of the room before landing back on me. “Is this really what you want?”

The disapproval in Gavin’s tone reminds me uncomfortably of Tucker’s parents, and I bristle at the implication that my marriage is merely a ploy to get a nice apartment. Which isn’t true. And even if it was, what difference would it make? I’ve made my decision. Too much has happened, I can’t go back now. Gavin deserves to move on, too.

“Yes. I’m happy.” I reach for Gavin’s arm, stopping myself just in time. I can’t bear to know if I’ll feel the impact down to my bones.

Because Gavin wouldn’t say Tucker’s name, I emphasize it now. “Tucker makes me happy.” The apartment, the clothes, the ease that comes from financial security—all of that is window dressing. Tucker makes me feels safe. Truly. We’re building a life together. Gavin needs to know this.

“No.” Gavin shakes his head. “Poppy, I don’t know what lies you’ve been feeding yourself but there’s no way—” He breaks off, his eyes dragging over my body. But his gaze isn’t adoring, it’s anguished. As if looking at me physically hurts. “For God’s sake, have you been eating? What has he done to you?”

I don’t have to look in a mirror to know I look different than I used to. These days I wear designer clothes that have been tailored to fit my body perfectly. I don’t buy secondhand clothes or throw my badly cut, tangled hair into a messy ponytail. My makeup is artfully applied, my hair blown out and pin straight. I’m thin, but not nearly as thin as I could be, as thin as Wren.

Anger wells up inside me, and I embrace the searing warmth that floods my body. It is infinitely preferable to the doubt and uncertainty that are my usual companions. I don’t need to explain myself to Gavin. How dare he come back into my life, acting as if I’ve betrayed him by moving on and forging a life of my own—after he left me?

“Get out,” I say flatly, pointing at the door. “Get out and don’t come back.”

Gavin doesn’t move. “You can’t answer me, can you? You don’t even realize what he’s done. This… plastic person he’s turned you into.”

“He is going to be my husb—”

Gavin cuts me off. “I was supposed to be your husband!”

I stare at him now, slack-jawed and dizzy. Gavin’s words have knocked the wind out of me. I fumble for something to say, something to do. And maybe because I’m light-headed and off-balance, my thoughts become disordered and nonsensical, my imagination taking me to a place that doesn’t, ca

But, for a moment… No, longer than that. A lifetime, condensed into the span of seconds, I see what we could be, feel the life we could have as if I’m holding it in my hands. My heart swells with happiness, and I’m warmed by the glow of the white light that accompanies a near-death moment. But instead of actual memories, I’m flooded with sparkling, mystical glimpses of a path not yet taken. Memories that have yet to be made.

“Poppy?” Gavin’s voice cuts into my consciousness, bringing me back to reality.

I open my eyes, blinking away the fantasy even as it slips through my fingers, evaporating in front of me. It’s not real, and I’m not in some faraway future. I’m here, in New York City. In Tribeca. In the apartment I share with Tucker.

If it wasn’t for Tucker, my mom would still be in jail, or maybe even dead. If it wasn’t for Tucker—I couldn’t spend my days helping kids thrust into the foster system, as lost and aching as I once was.