5 years later
As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, for a moment I felt like time stood still. They say your 20s go by in an instant, so you better make them most of them. I hope I did. The second half, at least. The first one was very much wasted in naïve delusions of a lovesick heart.
Taking a deep breath, I dried my face with a towel, and forced out a smile. "Happy 30th birthday, Vivian." I muttered to myself. Or should I say happy 5th birthday? Five years since I left everything behind and worked hard to become my own person. No more Chris bossing me around, no more Sebastian lurking, no more being subtly pushed into this or that decision by anyone except my own self.
Five years should be a long time, but it's really nothing when you come out of the mist. I wouldn't call it rebirth, rather ... a reawakening. It's like I had been sleeping for most of my life and it took something so heartbreakingly devastating to wake me up from that slumber of naivety into the light of reality.
Even though there have been times when memories would creep upon me, in an effort to take over my mind with their sadness and guilt, amid those shadows I found strength in unexpected places. I discovered new passions, new dreams and hopes – all within my reach. Amazingly, you find the unexpected when you stop hindering your own self.
This is why now, as I looked at myself on this special day – a day marked by milestones rather than years –, oddly enough, only one thought crossed my mind: joy. As my smile slowly grew bigger, turning into a grin, suddenly time seemed irrelevant. Turning 30 is supposed to be some sort of angsty deadline, some kind of inescapable final exam that you either pass or you don't. Either you have everything figured out, or you failed and there's no chance for a do-over.
For me, it wasn't like that. After everything I went through, societal expectations seemed nothing but illusions. If life was a straightforward path, by now I'd be living in some cozy suburban home, married to the love of my life, watching our children grow. If life made sense, an innocent baby wouldn't have fallen victim of his mother's folly.
I'm not sure what's crazier, really. Believing that your best friend systematically sabotages all your relationships out of pure protectiveness and not toxic manipulation, or actually thinking that you can separate the charming man that claims to love you from the murderous drug lord that has definitely killed people in cold blood.
I don't regret running away. I could have become another Lola, forfeiting myself in the name of love – in both men's cases. The one true part about that insane drama was that we were actually alike, Lola and I. We both believed love conquers all. It doesn't. Never has, never will. What I learned from her, from her selfless yet utterly futile sacrifice, more than just to run from dangerously attractive men, is that we've been taught wrong.
We grow up being told that romantic love is the ultimate goal, the answer to everything, the holy grail of happiness, the final score on an endless chart. So, when we become adults and we realize it's not, we find ourselves lost in a world we don't recognize. If loving someone was supposed to give me all I ever needed, then how come I felt much freer when I got rid of all those misplaced feelings?
"You okay?" I woke from my reverie when a pair of arms slipped around me and soft lips kissed my shoulder.
I inevitably stiffened. "Of course." I nodded, pulling away, then grabbed my toothbrush. "I gotta get to work." At least that part was true, my boss is a stickler for punctuality. I guess I couldn't fault him, when your entire workday is based on Mother Nature's moods, you learn to exploit every single minute of daylight you have.
"Me too, we can carpool." Carpool where? To the lobby? Considering that's where my boss should be waiting for me. The last thing I need is for him to see me get out of the elevator with a random blonde.
When I didn't reply, the same grin I fell asleep to peeked through, but less cheerful. I hate this part. Putting some more physical distance between us, I poured some toothpaste on my toothbrush. "I prefer to walk." I mentioned, hoping that was a clear enough hint.
"We can walk together, then, I'm actually early."
Why is it the same script over and over? Why do they never understand? Closing my eyes for a moment, I heaved a deep sigh. "You're really gonna make me say it, aren't you?"
"Say what?" Her big doe-eyes stared at me in pure confusion. I felt bad, I always do.
"Look, it was nice and all, but there clearly was a misunderstanding here."
"I don't understand ..."
I calmly brought the toothbrush to my mouth, but before starting to brush my teeth, I said coldly: "You're nothing but a pastime. A good pastime, but not a permanent one."
"But I thought there was something ..." she went on whining.
"We met at a bar, got drunk, and fucked." I scoffed. "Believe me, there's nothing special about that, I've done the same with 3 other people this week."
Predictably, she looked outraged. She went back to the bedroom, gathered her things in a huff, and left – slamming the door, of course. Being called a one-night-stand is really the greatest equalizer among sexes. They all react the same way. You'd think men would be less sensitive about it ... nope, same hurt look on their face, same anger, same huffing.
I guess that, immediately jumping to conclusions and thinking Beth and I had done something, that time 5 years ago, should have been a hint. I didn't know I liked women more than just men until I got drunk and hooked up with a bartender and her boyfriend when I was in Australia. Threesomes are actually the easiest, nobody expects anything. You don't need to kick them out of your bed, they're gone before you wake up.
Once I was done brushing my teeth, I took a quick shower, then went back into the room to get dressed. Before doing so, I grabbed my phone. Just as predictably, I found texts from Laura and Beth. The first one sent me the latest stunt of her 4-year-old daughter – tying her own shoes. At the extreme opposite, Beth's picture was of her newest "girlfriend". And by girlfriend I mean the current girl she'll be sleeping with until she gets bored. Just like me, after Jen, Beth decided relationships aren't all that interesting.
Ever since I told her I started sleeping with women, Beth decided I needed a crash course in female anatomy, namely, how to spot a fuckable girl without staring too hard – her words, not mine. I did remind her that the whole point of my pansexual epiphany is that I'm attracted to a person regardless of their gender, but her whole answer was involving Shane in our talks. Funny how the only ones that welcome your newfound hoe lifestyle are the hoes themselves.
Laura thinks it's a phase, I'll soon ... fuck this hatred for relationships out of my system and move on to love someone else. Possibly someone not as toxic as Chris and not as murderous as Sebastian – her words, not mine.
I merely sent a few kissy emojis to Laura, not because I don't care about her beautiful daughter, but because her blatant attempts at showing me what I'm missing out on don't work on me. Not the mama life – she wouldn't be so cruel, given the past –, I mean my actual goddaughter, the sweet Lily, who according to her mom misses me too bad and needs me to come home asap. I get that kind of guilt trip every three days, but it didn't work when Lily started walking, it won't now that she's started reading.
I sent Beth's picture to the group chat with her and Shane, adding: Beth is into brunettes this month. Before closing the app, I eyed my archived chats section. It's pretty cruel to just put it there without giving you the chance to hide it. Then again, I could delete everything, I just haven't found it in me yet. It's more of a reminder than a way to hang onto the past.
I ignored the new texts from the group chat, clear sign that Shane was awake, too, and I got ready to go out. After two years spent traveling without a real destination or plan, I realized that traveling is my plan.
I had never gone anywhere, Chris hated traveling, and like the idiot I was, I obviously didn't think I could do it without him. Be it that I needed to find a job, since my funds were never bottomless to begin with, when I found an ad for Assistant Photographer, I sent an application, not expecting anything, given my complete lack of knowledge in the field.
Surprisingly, they hired me. On condition that I took a photography course and was willing to travel almost constantly, of course, but they did. I realized why they hired someone with no experience and no background when I met my boss. Or should I say the absolute pain in the ass that he is.
Take the most annoying sides of Dr. House and Sherlock Holmes, and you get the absolute workplace nightmare that is Noah Cooper. Even the HR manager that hired me was stunned at my ability to not only resist longer than 3 months, but to not be fired by the man himself. He goes through assistants quicker than how long the lions he photographs take to eat a wildebeest – her words, not mine.
I made sure to have everything ready, and I stood by the door, waiting for my boss. I learned soon enough that either I arrive early or test my own nerves by dealing with a grumpy Noah all day. Today, we were supposed to work on undersea volcanoes in the Mediterranean Sea. When my phone rang, however, I knew my day was already ruined. "Ye-"
"Where are you?" Noah's gruff voice interrupted my monosyllable.
I looked at myself in the reflection of the glass windows, fixing my bangs - nothing says new life like a new haircut, so that was the first thing I did after I left. "Waiting for you by the door, where else?"
"Wrong answer." He scoffed.
"If you're gonna fake-fire me for the 4th time this month, do it after payday, please. I keep getting weird looks from the lady that handles paychecks."
"That's cos they assume we sleep together." His voice held a hint of dry amusement. "I may or may have not fueled that rumor."
"It's not a rumor when you notoriously either sleep with your assistants or drive them insane." I pointed out.
"To be fair, both involve a lot of riding." He joked.
"Yeah, old men don't have the stamina for doggy anymore." I quipped. Here's a secret, when you stop living like a pure virgin solely dedicated to waiting for the love of your life to realize you're doing the wrong kind of sleeping together, you realize that sex jokes are actually a lot of fun.
"You're 30 today, Dawson," Noah retorted in his usual sharp tone that most people mistake for insulting, "you don't get to play the old man card any longer."
"I'm still not as ancient as you." I scoffed. "Now, care to tell me why I'm standing by the door like an idiot?"
"Because you are." Predictable answer. "Change of plans, we're going birdwatching in Camargue."
"Ugh, I hate birds."
"I'm sure the feeling is mutual. Now move it."
"You need to get laid more, Noah." I teased, starting to grab all the equipment. At the very least, this job keeps me in shape.
"Well, I would if my assistant wasn't such a frigid witch."
"You can't handle me, I keep telling you." Maybe there has been some sexual tension between us, but we've never done anything and, it'll sound surprising, but despite his complete lack of respect for HR guidelines regarding sexual harassment, Noah has never even tried to touch me.
"And I keep telling you, try me." In all honesty, I would. Not many men that are exposed to all kinds of weathers for years get to the age of 34 as handsomely as Noah Cooper. However, despite my newfound hoe calling, he's still my boss.
"Is this the part where I hand your ass over to HR and sue you out of your villa?"
"No, this is the part where you admit you like this." Noah quipped. "And also the part where I fire you if you're not here in 30 seconds."
"You know, when you're the pain you are, you don't get to decide to fire the sole assistant that's ever been able to put up with your moody ass." I mentioned while walking – thank God somebody invented wireless earbuds.
"I actually don't need an assistant, I just like the sight of that ass swaying."
"And that's the comment that'll grant me your beach house in Sicily."
"You talk as if I haven't caught you staring at my cute bubble butt."
I almost laughed, but I caught myself, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. "You don't have a bubble butt, Noah."
"If you know, you've been staring." He teased.
"Where, exactly, am I going?" I changed subject, not wanting to admit my guilt. Hooking up with strangers does help when you spend most of your day with your annoyingly sexy boss, just you, him and animals or landscapes.
"Straight into my bed, hopefully."
"You really wanna die young, huh."
"You're that good?" He teased, and because he was in sight, since he'd sent me weird indications via text, I could spot his flirtatious smirk.
"You'll never know. Now, come help me with this stuff." Thankfully, I found out long ago that my back pains were more psychosomatic than actually physical. As it turns out, heartbreak induces stress, stress induces psychosomatic pain.
"I can't do your job for you, HR would see that as a sign we're sleeping together."
"Seriously," I huffed when I got in front of him, ending the call, "get laid. Your abstinence is showing."
"Well, there's a restroom nearby." He hinted at the door not too far from him.
"If we're going to Camargue, why did you make me walk back into the hotel?" I grumbled, since he'd led me back to the bedrooms.
Noah grinned, that devilish glint in his eyes sending shivers down my spine. "Because I wanted to see you walk," he claimed, taking part of the equipment from my hands, "and because there's something I want to show you."
"In your room?" I scoffed. "Really? Does that line ever work?"
Noah threw his head back, laughing. The sound echoed off the walls of the empty hallway and I couldn't help but smile at how carefree he looked in that moment.
"Believe it or not," he said as we made our way to his room, "this isn't about sex."
I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Color me surprised, then." I replied dryly.
He led me out onto a small balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and gestured for me to come closer. "Technically, it's not worth much." Noah said, pulling a paper scroll with a red ribbon from behind his back.
"Where did that come from?" I wondered, confused.
"I pulled it out of my ass." He sassed, then handed me the paper scroll. "It arrived yesterday. You're officially a photographer, Dawson."
I couldn't believe my eyes. Or rather, I could, I knew the certificate was due soon, I just didn't expect Noah to make such a big deal out of it. "Is that your way of firing me?" I joked.
"Please," he scoffed, "there's still a lot you gotta learn."
"Thanks ..." I mentioned truthfully, because despite his arrogant and sarcastic attitude, he's been a great teacher.
Noah went into the room for a moment, and took something out of his suitcase. When he came back, I saw it was a box wrapped in red gift paper. "Happy 30th birthday, Vivian." He said with a small smile as he handed me the present.
"Thank you ..." I took it, confused as ever. Having worked with him for over two years now, I've learned that he doesn't like being predictable, but out of all the things he could have done, not only remembering my birthday, but even buying me something was the most surprising one. When I opened it, I was surprised to find a DSLR camera.
"It was my first professional camera," Noah mentioned with a small smile, "take it as some sort of ... passing the baton moment." He joked, his smile unfaltering.
"This must have many memories for you," I mentioned, eyeing the piece of equipment – it did look old and used, but still functioning, "you shouldn't get rid of it."
Noah rolled his eyes. "Jesus, what happened to you?" He scoffed, albeit amused. "What made you such a hard ass?"
I gave him a sarcastic look. "Aren't you projecting here, sir?"
He fell onto the chair next to the breakfast table, "Well, fuck me for trying to do something nice for once." He grumbled, seemingly annoyed.
I couldn't help but smile a bit. I placed the camera on the table, to make sure it wouldn't break accidentally. Someone like him that treats his equipment like treasure and loves his job unconditionally, for him to gift me his first professional camera, it was a big deal, no matter how much he tried to debase it.
Going to stand in front of him, I smiled a bit wider. "Thank you. Really."
Noah stared at me for a long moment before smiling back. When he opened his mouth, I thought he was about to make another one of his dirty jokes, but he didn't. "Why don't we take the day off?"
"What about the birds in Camargue?"
"Fuck birds." He rolled his eyes, standing up. "It's your birthday, let's celebrate."
"Since when you care about birthdays? You haven't celebrated a single one since I know you. Not yours, and definitely not mine."
"You ask too many questions, Dawson." He claimed, grabbing my hands. Before I could realize it, he'd pushed me against the railing, a small smirk playing on his lips. When he eyed mine, I realized it wasn't one of his games. "Fuck it," he said, "this is worth getting fired."
"What-"
Noah kissed me. It was a hard, rough kiss that took me by surprise. His hands gripped my waist tightly as he pulled me closer to him. I could feel the heat radiating from his body and it made my head spin. The way his tongue explored every inch of my mouth sent shivers down my spine.
At first, I was taken aback, but as his lips moved against mine, my body was lit on fire. I wrapped one arm around Noah's neck while the other found its way to his hair, tugging at it in response to the sensations running through me.
When he pulled away, I felt like I hadn't been breathing for a long time, yet I craved to get back into it. Thankfully, Noah felt the same, therefore he barely gave me a couple of seconds before kissing me again, this time even more passionately. I was so lost in it that I barely noticed he'd started guiding me back inside the room.
"This means nothing." I pointed out as Noah frantically worked to take off my clothes. I didn't want to break the spell, but I don't have Beth's coldness when it comes to these things. Be it that it was my boss, be it that I don't like hurting people, I didn't want him to think there was more between us.
He didn't answer, but because he didn't stop me when I went to undress him as well, and neither did he cease kissing me and exploring my body all over, I knew he understood. This wasn't a romantic moment, it was an escape.
Noah and I were two people looking for something that would make us forget about reality, if only for a couple of hours. We wanted to be in control but at the same time, we wanted to surrender ourselves completely and get lost in each other. And so we did.