“I think you two need to catch up, and besides, I’ve been up since seven helping plan the opening. I’m exhausted.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you. Great job on the reception, I think. I’ve never been to a gallery opening before.”
She gave a small wave and was gone, out the door and swallowed into the New York streets.
I turned to Drew. “Was it something I said?”
“No, not at all. I think she just knew we needed some time together. She’s… like that. She knows what you need without asking, it’s so weird…” He gazed toward the door.
“You love her.” I hadn’t intended on saying it or even talking about Olivia. The words just came out.
He nodded. “I think I do.” His eyes searched mine. “I was more sure before today.”
“Why today?” It was a question with a known answer, unfair really.
He raked a hand through his hair. “You. Always you, Claire. My whole life…” He twirled the half-empty mug of his beer around in his hands, not making eye contact. “And now, here you are. Somewhat available. For the first time in our lives. But somehow, I’m not…”
I realized I was holding my breath. “What do you want, Drew?” I asked finally, watching my oldest friend wrestle with his emotions. I knew every line of his face, the curve of his jaw, every smile. I realized how unfair life had been to him, at least when it came to love. How unfair I’d been to him.
His eyes met mine, and his smile was wry. “I have no idea. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted only one thing. And now, I love two women. And even more unbelievably, two women seem to love me.” He gave me a look then: Am I reading this right?
I studied the marred table surface and then nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. My heart hammered. He shook his head once and smiled wryly. Figures.
We sat for a while, silent and consumed with our own thoughts, surely similar, but both of us unable or unwilling to vent them. Finally, he motioned for the waitress and paid the tab.
We walked back to his apartment in oddly comfortable silence. I linked my arm through his and wondered how our friendship had bounced back and forth across the line, and yet, we still felt so easy. I decided the answer was because he was Drew, because I could say anything to him, and he would always be there. He had been there for me, regardless of what it cost him, all my life. Had I ever repaid him? No, not likely.
I was struck with a sudden strong urge to go home, to do something, for the first time, for my old friend. I could leave him alone and let him love another woman, a woman so fantastic that she’d left him alone with me, his unrequited love.
Surely, she knew about us. Even if he had never explicitly told her, she was too savvy not to see it, plain in front of her face. She was also too smart to want a man who wanted someone else. I realized then that her leaving us alone was a way to ferret out who he really loved, and I smiled. In another lifetime, I would have liked being friends with Olivia.
When we got back to Drew’s apartment, I kissed him on the cheek and turned to go into the guest room. He grabbed my elbow and pulled me to him, his face inches from mine. His breath, hot on my neck, sent chills down my spine.
“Drew, think about it first, okay?” I pulled away. “Don’t throw away what you have. Be sure of what you want.” Gently, I disengaged his hand from my arm and walked into the guest room. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. I heard him go into his room and close the door.
I got into bed and slept fitfully. I waited for the creaking door, the soft pad of footsteps. I wondered if he slept any better than I did. When the first light of the morning shone in my window, a quicksilver of pink and gold, I got up and packed. I found an envelope and a pen in the kitchen and wrote a quick note:
Figure out what will make you happy and do it. For once in your life, do something for you, not me.
I slipped out the front door, into the streets of New York. Oddly for a place known as “the city that never sleeps,” the streets were deserted. I hailed a cab to Penn Station and hopped the first train to Annandale.
I cried the entire way home.
Chapter 27
That year, I cooked Thanksgiving dinner in its entirety. Mom and Dad came over, and I invited Rob and Robin Masters. Surprisingly, they didn’t have plans and happily accepted. I did not call Drew, and he did not call me. The evening felt festive, hopeful.