Page 65 of Tangled Up In You

“Ah, perfect. Here we are,” Gavin said with forced brightness as the cab slowed to a stop.

He quickly got out and beckoned Sophie and Conor to join him. They stood across the street from the ten-story brick and sandstone apartment building known as the Dakota. A dry moat encircling the building was surrounded by a low cast-iron fence. Behind them, leafy Central Park was a peaceful contrast to the four lanes of traffic still humming by at almost two in the morning.

“I always wanted to see the spot. Morbid, I guess,” Gavin mused.

“And why are we here?” Sophie asked.

“This is where John Lennon was murdered,” Conor replied flatly.

“Oh,” Sophie said, brow furrowed.

Gavin gazed at the features of the building. Its protruding dormers, dark brown corner masonry, oriel windows, and intricate niches lent it a gothic feeling. In truth, it was a prestigious home to multi-millionaires. The doorman at the main arched entrance eyed them with suspicion, and in return Gavin gave him a mock salute.

“And yes, it is morbid. Let’s go, Gav. You need to get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning,” Conor said.

Gavin laughed. “Con, if this feeling ever left me, even for a minute, I’d be only delighted. But it doesn’t and that’s why I’m a great fucking musician. So, I guess I should thank my ma for that, shouldn’t I?”

“Stop giving into this,” Conor said. “You work yourself up into misery and?—”

“I’d thank her if only I fucking knew where she was,” Gavin continued.

Before Conor could try some other argument, Sophie went to Gavin and held his face in her hands. She looked intently into his eyes and whispered, “It’s okay.”

He reached up to take her hands from him. “Don’t?—”

“It’s all going to be okay,” she insisted.

Gavin froze as this declaration washed over him. Conor’s entreaties for him to let go this rant had fallen on deaf ears. But Sophie’s loving, dare he say it, maternal approach made all the difference. She had witnessed him coming apart and, rather than fleeing, she had given him the kind of assurance he so desperately needed. It made him feel both seen and accepted. In response, he crumbled gratefully into her embrace.

They stayed there on the street for a while longer, Gavin and Sophie holding each other tightly while Conor paced.

The sheer curtainsthat made the hotel suite so elegant also failed to block the morning sun and woke Gavin well before he was willing. He tossed and turned, too tired to get up to draw the heavier curtains and darken the room. Finally, he pressed his body against Sophie’s backside and squeezed her waist.

“Sophie, wake up. I have something to tell you,” he whispered.

“Hmm?” she moaned.

She turned around and her hair fell over her face as she leaned into him.

“I’m going to miss this,” he said. “Waking up with you. You’re so beautiful.”

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” she asked, and looked at him sleepily.

He smiled and brushed the hair from her face. “No. I wanted to tell you that last night, well, I didn’t plan on letting you know how fucked up I was until after we were married. Now I’m afraid you’ll run back to California and I’ll never see you again.”

“No such luck, baby. I’m hooked on you and that’s for good.”

“You’re more than I deserve, darlin’.”

“We deserve each other, Gavin.”

“I don’t ever want to let you go.”

“So don’t,” she whispered, and kissed him.

He would have to let her go later that day so she could go back home and continue to get ready to move to Ireland to be with him. But he gratefully accepted her assurance that they deserved each other. He would count the days until they could be together again.

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