Lily stared at the papers. She didn’t make a move to take them.
“Please,” he said hoarsely.
She looked up at his face again, taking in his clear desperation. She should tell him to leave. But the honest truth was that she was curious to know what he’d written. After a prolonged silence, she took the pages.
“Thank you,” he said.
She simply nodded and placed her hand on the doorknob, an obvious sign that she was done with the conversation. Nick backed away and she turned around and went inside, closing the door behind her. She peeked out the peephole again and Nick was still standing there, staring pointedly at the ground. Then he sighed and went down the hall to his apartment.
She was so angry with him. He’d lied to her. So then why did she still feel such a strong connection to him?
She sat on the couch again and flipped through the stack of papers. The email drafts spanned from January until just last week.
With Tomcat curled beside her, Lily read Nick’s first apology email, where he explained why he’d never shown up to their video chat, how he feared that she wouldn’t like the real him, how nervous he’d been to tell someone else that he was N.R. Strickland. Later, he wrote to her about New York City and how overwhelming yet thrilling it felt to live there. He wondered if he might run into her, and if that happened, would she somehow know who he was right away? He mentioned his writing and how he struggled with it, and the stress of suddenly experiencing so much success and being unsure if he could deliver again.
He wrote about how much he missed talking to her. Often, he mentioned how sorry he was that he’d hurt her, and he knew he’d messed things up.
He’d written his last email draft only eight days ago.
I just left you and Tomcat. You told me you were thinking of dating one of your coworkers. I think I could hear my heart breaking when you said that. I want you to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. And it’s selfish that I want you to be happy with me, because I don’t know if you can be. But I want to try. I would try my fucking hardest to do right by you. And that means I’ll have to tell you the truth. I hope you won’t hate me.
She gripped the piece of paper tighter as she reread Nick’s words. She wiped her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying.
Then the door opened, startling her. To her surprise, Violet walked inside, followed by Iris.
“Hey,” Lily said, clearing her throat. “I thought you were in the Bahamas for that photo shoot.”
“Angel caught the flu, so they sent everyone home early,” Violet said, wheeling her suitcase next to the couch.
Angel, the same R&B singer Violet had tried to hook Lily up with at her engagement party, was her newest client. Lily should have just tried her best to vibe with Angel that night. Because then maybe she wouldn’t have bothered to look twice at Nick. And they wouldn’t be in this messy situation.
“I picked her up from the airport,” Iris said, placing her purse on the kitchen counter. “I thought I’d stop in and say hi.”
“Sister night!” Violet flopped onto the couch next to Lily. Tomcat grumbled and hopped down, his serenity decidedly ruined.
“I’m hungry,” Iris said, opening the fridge. “But I see that my only options are sugary Trader Joe’s yogurt or wine.”
“Relax. I’ll order pizza.” Violet pulled out her phone, then groaned, tossing it aside. “Eddy still doesn’t have his tux. I know it took me a while to find my dress, but getting a tux is the one thing I asked him to do. I’ve done everything else for the wedding. I found the DJ even though he works in the music business. He booked the venue and that was it. I planned the rest by myself. Our honeymoon too.”
Lily frowned. Iris immediately paused in the act of opening a yogurt carton and turned around to face them.
“He’s never home,” Violet said. “I spend more time at his apartment than he does.”
“Vi . . .” Lily squeezed her sister’s hand, her problems with Nick momentarily forgotten.
“It’s okay.” Violet forced a smile. “His career is taking off with his new clients, and this is what it’s like when you’re in love with someone who hustles as hard as you, when you’re with someone who finally gets it. I’ve spent so many years dating men who were upset when they couldn’t get more of my time, or they thought my job was stupid, like I played dress-up for a living. Eddy knows the business. He understands my life. We’re both busy, but it won’t always be this way.”