Not today.
I need to pick up the twins.
Bourbon soothes my throat, numbing my mind and plucking away the strings holding my heart together. I need to call Valencia. I know I do. Now is the perfect time with the twins in bed. My shoulders are tense and I don’t know if it’s due to the thought of her, the workday I’ve had, or because I’m in Addilyn’s nursery. Yet I fall into the wingback chair and take another swig.
It took weeks for me to step inside this room and now it’s the only place I can find refuge. The dusty pink walls. The lingering scent of vanilla. The abandoned bassinet. The godforsaken window. This is where it happened. This is where we lost her.
It still doesn’t feel real.
I pick up my phone and call Valencia. The line rings and rings. It draws out. All into one.
She doesn’t want to talk.
Why should she after how I acted? After all, I’m just a man. A man not happy with the world. Forced to hate it by external sources. Doing my best to accept it without falling into a conscious pit of terror.
“Giulio?”
She answered.
“Valencia.”
“Sorry, my phone was charging in another room. Are the kids okay?”
“They’re perfect.” My fingers drum against the rim of my glass. She sounds placid, not enraged like I initially expected. “I want to talk, but if you’re busy—”
She cuts me off. “No, it’s okay. We can talk now. Let me…go to the living room.”
“Take your time.”
Valencia’s hum vibrates straight down my body. The wave travels to my heart first, my abdomen, and then even lower.
“Okay. What is it you wanted to talk about?”
I exhale sharply. “I fucked up last night. I deeply regret speaking to you the way I did. Nobody deserves to be spoken to like that. Especially somebody who is battling through so much. I mean, slamming the pills like that…you know I don’t do that type of thing. The last thing I want to do is cause additional suffering. I’m so sorry and I know these words at times are not enough; if there was a way to demonstrate it I would, but it’s all I can say now.”
There’s a moment of silence until her voice cracks through the phone. “Thank you. However, you’re not entirely to blame as I was the one to initiate it. Last night was tough for both of us…I’m sorry.”
“It still doesn’t make it right that I acted that way.”
“We just really miss her, Giulio. We miss her and we take it out on each other.”
Valencia couldn’t have said it more perfectly. That’s exactly what’s happening between us. It kills me to know that as much as I someday hope we can be on the same team, all I see in our path right now is uncertainty.
“Exactly. Especially the way she was stripped from us.”
“It was the worst possible way.”
“I feel you.” I have a death grip on my phone, as if somebody is seconds from pulling it away, and I won’t ever be able to speak to Valencia again. “There’s…something else I’d like to discuss.”
“Sure, go on.”
Now or never, Giannotti.
“Would you be interested in working with me at Notti Designs?”
Silence greets me.
She wasn’t expecting this.
She’s going to say no.
“You want me to work with you?”
“Yes. Temporarily as my assistant with hours adjusted to suit,” I confirm. “It’s a six week paid contract. Amanda is on personal leave and issues arose with the internship program.”
“Giulio…I don’t know.”
“I know how it seems, but there’s no catch. Perhaps this will be…a good thing.”
Perhaps it will change everything.
It would mean seeing her almost every day as apposed only Sunday afternoon where we swap custody. I pick up the kids from school on Thursdays and have them through to Sunday noon. The encounter is always brief when I drop them off. Sometimes we barely speak.
Her voice softens. “How do we work together when we don’t agree on a single thing?”
“For our kids.”
“They would love it. The problem is apart from logical reception duties, I don’t have the skills. Even I were to say yes, I don’t want to be treated with leniency.”
“I know it’s not your field but no other company understands our situation. Nobody will judge you and everybody respects you. If you’re struggling with concentration, perhaps this can help it. If it doesn’t, then after the six weeks we don’t have to ever speak about it again.”
“That’s the appeal.”
She’s considering it.
Please, say yes.
I clear my throat. “The job would accommodate to finish before school hours on the days you have custody of the twins. On Thursdays and Fridays, I would expect a 5 P.M. finish.”
“When would I start?”
“Tuesday.”
“You mean this upcoming Tuesday? The day after Labor Day?”
“Well Tuesday typically comes after Monday, but yes that’s the one…”
It warms me to hear her beautiful laugh. It’s been so long. “You just had to add that in, huh?”
“You know me; I couldn’t let it slide.” I smile in the dark like a fool. A fool still in love.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Valencia murmurs. “Can I think abou—you know what? I’ll do it!”
The fool’s grinning now. “You will?”
“I will. Only because you need the help and I’ve been losing my mind doing nothing all day.”
I can hear the hint of a smile in her voice and it brightens every part of my being. With every single thing that went wrong today, she’s the one thing that’s right.
“Thank you. You won’t regret this.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I say, my voice low. “Anything at all.”
Beats pass, those that match my heartbeat.
“Before we met and you were taking anti-depressants too, did you suffer from insomnia? I have the occasional dizziness, nausea and sometimes my energy just isn’t there, but I’m talking extreme insomnia. Like some nights I’m okay, but others I’m lucky to get four hours. I haven’t spoken to my doctor yet but
