Page 46 of Gray Area

VIVIAN

Ihad felt him before I saw him. I sensed in some weird way that he was there, in the same room as I was. It had been like years earlier when I could always sense his presence. And then I saw him. In my periphery, I saw him with Slade, and my mouth went dry. But I just kept nodding and laughing when everyone else nodded and laughed.

I wanted to stare at him, to go and say hello, to put my arms around him. But I knew that would not be well received by him or Kent or even my own pride. But I couldn’t just stay in thesame room as him. It made me dizzy suddenly, Declan being so close to me. I needed air, or I was going to go down.

I leaned to Kent’s ear. “I just need some air,” I said. He nodded to me and stayed conversing with someone I had just been introduced to but had no idea who they were. I wander outside to the terrace, where it overlooked the beautiful gardens below. I felt better with the air and the lush flowers to distract me. The stuffiness seemed to have been left inside, and the cool air livened me back up.

But then I felt him, closer this time.

I don’t know what I had expected of our conversation, but I guess it had gone as well as it could have. And I was proud of myself for ignoring my heart. I had wanted to slap and punch him and yell at him for abandoning me and then for standing there and pretending like he’d been the same man the entire time and I had just bailed on him, on us. Like I had been the one to just push us to the back burner, and just ignore everything I said to him.

I was glad when the dinner had started, the perfect excuse to get away. Even though I was happy to see Slade and Axel, I wasn’t sure how strong I could remain in Declan’s presence. Especially in a tuxedo. Declan had always been so fucking handsome, but that man wrapped in a tailored tuxedo… It made life so unfair. I also wasn’t sure how long I would be able to stand his dickhead treatment of Kent.

He keeps his back to me the entire meal and for all the speeches. He doesn’t search for me. Maybe I’d said enough, and maybe we truly were past it all. Truthfully, I had hoped to never see him again, because it was so hard to leave him the first time. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to do it again. But maybe this is what we both needed; maybe we need this closure.

Or so I tell myself as I push my food around on my plate and listen to the people at our table. I join in just enough of theconversation to have no one ask if I am okay. Because I am okay, I remind myself. Crowds and events do still bother me, so that is why I am having trouble eating. It has nothing to do with Declan.

I start to feel anxious during the speeches, however, when Ms. Shallow speaks. She is such an amazing speaker, and she speaks so fondly of all the donors, but especially Falco Enterprises. She says something about each of the brothers, but it is what she says about Declan that shakes me up.

She doesn’t call them out by name, but just describes them with such tenderness, and I think that is why it is a sucker punch to the gut. If she had said, “Oh Declan…” or “that Slade,” I could have tuned out whatever followed as soon as his name had been mentioned.

“This evening would not have been possible had it not been for the generosity of the Falco Foundation. Many organizations put their names on charity events and programs but very few follow through their monetary pledges with the hands-on help and attention that The Falco Foundation did. In fact, I can think of no other organization in my twenty years that has ever done it.

“And I have to say, that one CEO in particular was quite helpful when I received some backlash from certain industries or vendors. Sometimes a kind word only gets you somewhere, but a phone call with strong, um, encouragement to get things done goes a lot farther.”

I drown out the rest of her speech, and am only really brought back to the moment as applause starts around me. And then I watch Declan and his brothers stand to prompt a standing ovation from the crowd. I too stand, but sway a little. I am the one with the staring problem now, I realize.

“You okay?” Kent asks me, and I shake my head a little.

“I’m just a little dizzy,” I answer. “My stomach feels off.”

“I saw you didn’t eat much. Do you think you are coming down with something?”

“Maybe,” I agree. “I was rushing around a lot today, so maybe it just wore me out,” I tell him. It is a total lie though, because I love rushing around and being busy. But Kent doesn’t know that. To be honest, we don’t know each other as well as I think he would like.

“Do you want to leave?” he asks, his face full of concern for me. And it makes me feel insanely guilty because all I want to do is get the hell away from this room. And him. From everyone, really.

“You stay,” I say. “You need to network,” I remind him. He looks a little torn, but I grab my clutch. “Resting alone would do me some good,” I assure him, patting his shoulder as a man I am pretty sure is a congressman comes over to him. Kent is quickly distracted, and I make a quick escape from the ballroom.

On my way down in the elevator, I order an Uber, and when I get outside, it pulls down the block. I feel better as soon as the car pulls away from the event location.

Minutes later at the hotel, I’m helped out of the car by the doorman and I head to the elevators, giving the desk clerks a small smile at their greetings as I do. I get to the room I am to share with Kent, close the door, lean back against it, and slide to the floor as the tears fall. I’d left him again. Once again I am questioning if it was the right thing to have left Declan in the first place. Again. Really for the millionth time since it happened.

As a sob racks through me, I take in a deep breath and nearly choke on the smell of Kent’s cologne which is so strong it permeates the room. And my stomach turns, I’ve always hate the smell of it. Kent and I had met a couple of years ago, when he was the pro bono lawyer for a child I was helping in the system. I’d changed majors once I’d gone away to school, having been inspired by my own journey, and I had decided social work was where I belonged.

Kent has a good heart, and he has been so kind to me. He wants to make a difference in the world, to help make a change. We had spent long nights over the case, sometimes falling asleep at our desks. And after the case was over, he asked me out. I said no, but he kept calling, and eventually I thought why not. We aren’t a couple—I am clear about that with Kent. We are friends only, but Kent is invested in a way I just cannot be. But I am giving it all I have to give, and honestly I am so devoted to my work that doesn’t leave much of me to give.

And even though we aren’t anything, I feel as if I am cheating on him, because here I am, in a hotel room we are to share, and I am crying about another man. True, the room sharing of the suite was a complete shock to me. Kent told me he handled the accommodations when he asked me to accompany him to the event. I had wanted to return home, but Kent had insisted it would be easier to stay in the city. I had assumed that meant he reserved me my own room, not that he and I would be in the same room. And while I am annoyed with Kent for that lie of omission, I am still here with him as his guest. I should not be pining over another man.

Another man who I thought I had left behind. Who I promised my heart we never had to see again. A man I was certain would never be at a high-end charity event in Washington DC, let alone run the company who funded it. A man I’d left because we tried and it hadn’t worked, and it left me so, so broken.

I tried. God, I tried. Hadn’t I?

He left you, Vivian, I remind myself. He’d been absent. He’d ignored your questions, your pleas, remember, Vivian?

I’d been there, waiting, trying, asking. How could he think I had just left? How could he not see how hard I had tried? He was the one who put me aside, without explanation. He told me he was protecting me, but he treated me like an object to keep hidden and not like the equal I should have been.

But if that is all true, then why does it tear me in two that he said that? Why do I have guilt at his words, and at the pain I saw flash in his eyes as he tossed that accusation in my face?

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