Love Like Theirs

“Since when was looking akin to flirting?” Keira replied.

“Um, ever since our species evolved distinct male and female parts?” Rob shot back.

He looked furious. Keira realized then that he was actually inebriated. He’d been holding it well before, but with those two shots of tequila in quick succession, he’d clearly crossed over the line of what his body could handle, and he was suddenly looking very disheveled.

Keira turned away, not prepared to have a discussion with a drunken idiot over the nuances of flirting. But as she walked away she was stunned by Rob grabbing her arm, attempting to hold her back.

“Hey,” he said. “You should apologize.”

“What?” she demanded, the tequila swilling in her stomach giving her confidence. “YOU should apologize. I haven’t done anything.”

“You led me on!”

Keira felt rage take over. “You’re a pig!” she cried out, reaching for the closest glass of alcohol. She found a discarded, full wine glass and threw its contents into Rob’s face.

She hurried away, grabbing her coat and scurrying from the house before anyone had a chance to stop her. She didn’t want Maxine or Shelby tailing her, trying to comfort her. She just wanted to go home.

Luckily, as she rushed down the street, a cab was coming her way, its light on. She hailed it.

It slowed at the curb and she leapt inside, telling the driver Bryn’s address. As she sped away, she saw Maxine and Shelby hurrying onto the doorstep, looking for her. She waved meekly at them from the back of the cab as it passed, then hunkered down in her seat. Humiliation made her cheeks burn. She rummaged in her purse, grabbing her cell phone to text Shelby an apology. But instead of messaging her friend, she found herself sending a message to Cristiano instead. Three simple words.

I miss you.

CHAPTER TWO

When Keira woke the next day, a feeling of mortification struck her. Memories of the party came flooding back, of the tequila shots with her friends and the whole unpleasant experience with Rob kissing her, and her throwing a drink in his face. But that wasn’t the worst thing. The worst thing that had happened was that she’d texted Cristiano.

She heaved back the covers, getting tangled in them in her haste to find her cell phone and falling flat on her ass. From the hard floor, she groaned and reached up to the coffee table, getting hold of it.

Once the phone was in her hands, Keira became too terrified to look. She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the button, before finally swallowing her anguish and pressing down.

Immediately, she saw she’d received several text notifications. Her heart leapt into her throat. Could one be from Cristiano? She clicked on the icon.

The first was Maxine asking if she was okay. The next; Maxine, again, asking her to let her know she got home okay. Then several from Shelby writing a stream of unconnected words spelled incorrectly, another from Maxine from earlier this morning stating that if Keira didn’t get in touch by midday she’d call the police, and finally one from her mom asking if she’d ever tried coconut milk in her latte. But nothing from Cristiano.

Her stomach sank. Disappointment settled deeply in her chest. But it was quickly replaced by a new sensation: relief. She’d taken the first step, broken the wall of silence between them, and Cristiano had chosen not to communicate in return. At least now she knew where she stood. She didn’t need to wonder anymore. As difficult as it was to know things were truly over, she was glad at least for some certainty.

She looked back at Maxine’s messages, no longer distracted by thoughts of Cristiano and able to pay them the attention they deserved.

Are you okay, hon? So sorry about Rob! What a jerk. I know you well enough to know you’re probably embarrassed about it, but you’re literally my hero right now.

She smiled to herself, her mortification of having made a spectacle of herself dissipating slightly. She typed a response.

Sorry for being silent. I must’ve fallen asleep as soon as I got home. Of course I’m embarrassed, but at least you’re proud of me.

She sent the message and went to put her phone away, then on second thought sent a text to her mom, Mallory. Yes. And it’s yummy.

She heard the sound of a key in the door then and jumped with surprise. As she turned to look over her shoulder, she saw Bryn enter the apartment, dressed in workout gear, her cheeks pink, hairline sweaty, and face grinning widely. Keira realized then that she was not alone. Felix was in tow. For an older gentleman he certainly looked all right in workout gear. He reminded her a little of the before model from an ad for male hair dye.

“You’re up,” Bryn said to Keira with a smile. “How was the party?”

“Could’ve been better,” Keira murmured in reply. “Where have you two been?”

Bryn went over to the sink to fill up her empty water bottle. It was Felix who answered Keira’s question.

“We just went for a jog,” he said.

Keira had to stop herself from exclaiming, “At your age?” Instead, she managed to censor herself and instead asked, “At this time of the morning?”

“Best time for it,” Felix replied. He raised one of his legs, resting it on a kitchen stool and stretching to touch his toes.

He was fitter than Keira, that much was evident. She’d let everything deteriorate in that department and her waistline was starting to suffer for it. It was all well and good eating and drinking to her heart’s content when she was hiking up Italian mountainsides, but now that her evenings consisted of binge-watching TV and eating pretzels, it wasn’t so great. She poked her stomach. It was definitely squishier than it used to be. She’d have to do something about that soon.

Bryn turned back from the sink and took a long swig from her bottle. “Have you heard from Mom?”

“Just some random text about coconut milk latte,” Keira replied.

Bryn laughed. “She’s losing her mind. She was supposed to let you know about dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” Keira replied.

“Well?” Bryn probed. “What do you say? Swanson ladies dinner date?”

“Isn’t Felix invited?” Keira asked, curiously. Mallory seemed to love Felix; either that or she was just very relieved that Bryn had finally started a stable relationship.

Felix switched to stretching his other leg. He glanced at Keira, his hands outstretched clasping the toe of his sneaker. “I’ve got plans with my own family tonight. It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary.”

Once again, Keira had to bite her tongue to stop from blurting out something rude. But she really was surprised that Felix’s parents were alive and kicking. They must be well into their eighties, the age Keira’s grandparents would have been had either still been alive.

“That’s lovely,” she managed to say.

“What shall I tell Mom?” Bryn asked.

“Tell her okay,” Keira replied.

Maybe some mollycoddling could help kick-start her out of her funk. There really was nothing like Mallory’s maternal cloying to remind Keira how important her independence was.

Bryn and Felix exchanged a nod and then headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Keira asked.

“Second five K,” Bryn replied.

“Ten before breakfast has always been my motto,” Felix added.

They waved and swirled out the door. Keira blinked at it. It was hard to believe that anyone could be that physically active, let alone a sixty-something man. She wondered how long it took someone to train to run 10k and realized it wouldn’t take that long at all. Certainly less than a year. Felix could have started his fitness regime on his sixtieth birthday for all she knew. It was never too late to make a change.

She realized, suddenly, that she needed to stop sitting around feeling sorry for herself. Overcome by a surge of motivation, Keira grasped her work bag and pulled out her notebook. She quickly wrote a list of all the things she needed to change in her life, including losing a couple of extra pounds and getting her roots touched up. She scanned the list and realized there was one very important change she needed to make to get her life back on track, and that was getting herself into her own apartment. The longer she stayed sleeping on Bryn’s couch, the harder it was becoming to ever imagine herself being independent, standing on her own two feet again.

She fetched her laptop and went onto a real estate website. She hadn’t checked apartment prices for at least a couple of years, having been settled with Zach for so long, and the prices made her eyes water. But if she added up her work bonuses and the several grand she’d saved just from not having to pay rent or for any of her food for the last few months, she might just be able to scrape together enough to put down a deposit. On paper she looked like a safe bet, since she had a steady job with a decent income. She started to feel the first glimmer of hope in days.

She scrolled through all the apartments, looking for one to rent within her price range. Most of them looked a little worse for wear, but she liked DIY and didn’t mind having a fixer-upper. She just wanted something that was her own, somewhere she could call home after spending weeks on end in hotel rooms.

At last, an apartment caught her eye. A one-bed, one-bath condo farther west from Manhattan than she usually went. From the photos it looked like it had been a sad divorcé’s downsizer, but Keira could see past the drab, unloved decor. The windows were huge, the ceilings high. Without the graying carpet it would look even more spacious. The building had laundry facilities in the basement, and it was less than a mile from a subway station.

It felt like fate.

Keira grabbed her phone and punched in the agent’s number. After a few rings, a croaky voice answered, an older woman with a decades-developed smoker’s rasp.

“I’m inquiring about the apartment on your website,” she said, explaining which specific one she was interested in.

“Oh yeah, that one’s a beaut,” the woman replied. “Great location. How tall are you?”

Keira was taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“’Cause the last two guys I showed it to were the size of basketball players and wanted more space. Waste of everyone’s time. And time is money, kiddo. So? How tall?”

“Five two,” Keira said.

“Perfect,” the woman rasped. “When d’ya wanna look?”

Keira thought of her job, of the long hours she often had to work at Viatorum. “A weekend would be better.”

“Whatcha doin’ today?” came the woman’s response. “I had a cancellation so could fit you in.”

“Today?” Keira repeated, surprised. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do. “Okay, yes. Today is fine!”

They made the necessary arrangements and Keira hung up the call, feeling a little dazed from the speed with which it had all happened. It really did feel like fate.

*

Keira left the subway, finding herself in an unfamiliar but rather pleasant part of New York. It was one of the things about the city she loved so much, how it changed, evolved, and developed so constantly it was always reinventing itself. Not that long ago this area must have been a bit rundown and the public hadn’t yet caught on, because there was no way she’d be able to afford to rent a place here otherwise!

She hurried along the sidewalk, scanning the door numbers as she went, searching for the correct building. As she drew closer to the correct number, she noticed a woman standing ahead in a fuchsia pink two-piece and matching heels, smoking a cigarette. That must be the real estate agent she spoke to on the phone.

The woman turned, presumably at the sound of Keira’s footsteps, and threw her cigarette to the ground. She put it out with the toe of her shoe and headed toward the door, gesturing for Keira to follow her, blowing smoke from the side of her lips as she went.

“Let’s get inside,” she called out when Keira was still a few paces away. “I’m freezing my butt off out here.”

Keira blinked in surprise at how rapidly things continued to move. Without even introductions, she followed the woman inside the apartment building.

Inside, it was as dingy as Keira had expected, but the staircase was in one piece and the elevator smelled fine. They went up to the thirteenth floor and Keira was pleased to see there was no graffiti anywhere in the corridor they emerged into.

The real estate agent put a key in the lock of a plain white door and then pushed it open.

The smell of dust wafted out. It smelled like the condo hadn’t been vacuumed for years. They stepped inside.

“The landlord lived here for a bit before moving to another place and renting this out. He’s a bachelor,” the agent said, wiping her fingers across the balustrade and picking up dust. “You can probably tell.”

But Keira didn’t care about the layer of dust. She didn’t even care about how much smaller the apartment was in real life compared to the pictures, or how the wallpaper was covered in smudgy handprints. She could see past all of that. The condo to her meant freedom, independence, the beginning of her life. A reboot. An anchor.

“I love it!” she cried, clapping her hands.

The agent didn’t seem moved by her gushing. “Good,” she said simply. “Bedroom’s through there. That’s the reason it’s cheap. Not enough room for a proper double, just one of those European-sized ones. But you’re short so you’ll fit fine.”

Keira peered into the bedroom. It was indeed little more than a closet. But what else did she need from a bedroom than a place to sleep? It wasn’t like she had a partner to share her bed with, it would just be her. Her and maybe a cat…

“Looks big enough for me,” she said. “I don’t actually own a bed so it will just be a case of getting something that fits.”

The real estate agent nodded in her characteristic lackluster way. “Great. Wanna rent it?”

Keira needed a moment to think. This was happening too fast. She ducked back out of the bedroom into the living area and walked over to the large windows, looking out at the view. She could see Central Park from here.

Suddenly she could imagine herself sitting by this window, gazing out at the streets, drinking coffee, writing. It was like her own Paris hotel window. Perfect for her. She didn’t need anything fancy, not when she was abroad for work so often. She just needed somewhere to call her own. A fresh start.

She swirled to face the fuchsia-clad real estate agent. “Yes. I’ll take it.”

CHAPTER THREE

Mallory leaned across the table and filled Keira’s now empty glass with more rosé. Keira grimaced. She didn’t care for the sickly sweet pink wine her mother favored, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. When it came to Mallory Swanson, refusal was futile.

Bryn caught Keira’s eye from across the table and smirked. She hated the pink wine just as much as Keira did. At least it provided them with a private joke they could share.

“So Keira,” Mallory said, addressing her youngest daughter.

Keira broke her gaze from Bryn to regard Mallory. She could tell by the way her mother’s eyes were slightly narrowed, and the way her wine glass was askew in her hands, that she was slightly tipsy. Which meant that she was about to ask something very personal, as was her way when she’d had a glass or two.

Keira braced herself. “Yes, Mother?”

“Have you heard from Cristiano?”

There it was. The gut punch.

Before Keira had a chance to even groan, Mallory flinched and flashed angry eyes at Bryn.

“Don’t kick me, young lady!” she exclaimed. “If I don’t ask she doesn’t tell. How else am I supposed to know what’s going on in my daughter’s life? One minute he was Mr. Right and then he was Mr. Gone. I want to know what happened.”

Petulance was another one of Mallory’s tipsy habits.

Keira sighed. “It’s okay. It’s about time I talked about what happened.” She put her wine glass down. At least if she was the one commanding the conversation she’d have an excuse not to drink any more rosé. “I haven’t heard from him since I broke it off. I really thought we’d be friends. It felt like a mature separation, you know? Like we could both tell it wasn’t right. But then he disappeared off the face of the earth. No communication whatsoever. I mean, am I an idiot for ever thinking you can be friends with an ex? The same thing happened with Shane.”

“Oh, darling, I’m not the one to ask,” Mallory replied. “You know too well how disastrous my love life has been.”

If Keira had a bingo card for things her mom discussed when she was drinking, she’d probably have ticked all the boxes by now. Career. Tick. Painful broken heart. Tick. And now, the real kicker: Dad.

Keira knew the story all too well, but that didn’t stop Mallory from bringing it up constantly. He was her one true love, they were young but thought it would work, he couldn’t handle the responsibility of children, he’d left her destitute in a big city with two young kids. Though she’d never met her dad, Keira was absolutely certain his absence played a role in her own inability to sustain a happy relationship. And he was definitely the reason Bryn was setting up house with an old man.

Mallory waved her glass in front of her face, sloshing some pink liquid onto the table in front of her. “I will say this though. Broken hearts, like broken bones, are stronger once they’re repaired.”

Keira quirked an eyebrow. That was actually quite insightful coming from Mallory.

“Who are you quoting that from, Mom?” Bryn piped up. “Oprah Winfrey?”

“I don’t remember who,” Mallory snapped. “It might have been in a fortune cookie. It doesn’t matter. The point is, you will get over this and you will learn something and you will heal and your heart will go on.”

“Ooh, I know that one. That one’s Celine Dion,” Bryn said.

Mallory frowned at her. “Will you stop with your jokes, Bryn! I’m trying to make Keira feel better.”

“You are, Mom,” Keira said meaningfully, speaking for the first time in ages. “You’re actually helping a ton. Bryn is too, in her own way.” She smiled at her sister. Bryn had put up with a lot from Keira over the last few weeks, from her moping around all day in unwashed clothes to her short temper. Now felt like a good time to let them know about what had happened with the real estate agent earlier that day. “Actually, I have a bit of news. Good news.”

“Oh?” they both asked in unison.

Keira felt suddenly shy. Renting a condo was such a big step for her, for all of them really. It would mark her transition, finally, from young adult to woman. For Mallory, it would be the end of her constant worry about her youngest getting along in the world. For Bryn, it would mean the return of her own independence, the lessening of responsibility, the lightening of the burden she’d always had to carry as the older of the two sisters.

“I’ve put a deposit down to rent my own apartment.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Bryn began to whoop. Mallory broke into a wide grin.

“Darling, have you really?” she asked.

Keira smiled shyly and nodded. “Yup.”

Bryn was out of her seat suddenly. She came up around Keira and threw her arms about. “Oh THANK GOD!” she cried.

Keira laughed in her tight embrace. “Okay, okay, I know I’ve been a pain, but really!”

Bryn released her grip a little. “It’s not that you’ve been a pain,” she said. “It’s just that Felix… well, he asked me to get a place with him. I’ve been dragging my feet…”

“I knew it!” Keira exclaimed.

From the other side of the table, Mallory began to cry. “My two girls, growing up so fast.”

Of course, the last box on the bingo board could now be ticked. Cry!

*

Keira headed out into the cold evening, pulling her coat about her. The dinner with her mom and Bryn had been rejuvenating. She’d enjoyed it far more than she’d expected.

Bryn had headed off to Felix’s for the night, so Keira would have the apartment to herself. She was tired, though, and felt like going straight to bed. She’d be back in the office tomorrow and wanted to be fresh for it. She’d been a grump for the last few weeks. Hopefully her positive attitude would carry over until tomorrow.

The subway sign appeared up ahead. As she headed toward it, Keira felt a vibration in her pocket. Her cell phone. She reached inside and took it out.

To her surprise, this time it was a text from Cristiano. Her heart seemed to stop beating as she opened it up.

Whoever this is, leave Cristiano alone. He’s moved on.

Keira stared at the message, blinking in shock. It wasn’t from Cristiano at all, but from someone using his phone. A new girlfriend?

Her stomach sank. All the good work that had been done that evening seemed to suddenly unravel and spool inside of her. How could he have moved on so quickly? After all those conversations they’d had about him only wanting to date women he could imagine marrying. How many were there for him to have found a new one in such a short space of time! Being marriage material in Cristiano’s eyes clearly didn’t mean that much after all. Had Keira been duped?

She thrust her phone back into her purse. Fuming, she hurried down the subway steps and on to the waiting train. She slumped into a seat and gazed at the blackness out the window.

Her mind raced a mile a minute, picking apart all the times they’d spent together, searching for new meaning, new clues in the moments they were together.

But the more she thought, the more her anger lessened. Instead of holding on to the worst possible scenario her mind could conjure – that Cristiano had lied to her about being careful with his heart – she managed to talk herself down to a place of reason. Sometimes the rebound relationship was the best relationship. He’d been her rebound from Shane and the time they’d spent together had been wonderful. Perhaps this new woman was just his rebound rather than his next wife. Perhaps he’d learned that from Keira, that sometimes it was okay to be with a person just because you wanted to, rather than always having some grand plan in place.

She remembered Mallory’s words, about each relationship being an opportunity to learn and grow, to move onward and upward. Cristiano might indeed be going through the same thing. And Keira could feel, tangibly, that she was as well. Rather than holding on to her fury, to her bruised ego, it had only taken her the subway ride to start to let it go.

She got off the train and headed back up to street level, exiting the subway a wiser woman than she’d been when she entered. When she’d gotten on the train she was upset but as she left, she was relieved. This was the real line in the sand with her Cristiano. This was the real ending. It was time to move on, once and for all.

CHAPTER FOUR

Keira wrapped her knuckles against Elliot’s office door. It was open, but she still felt the need to be polite.

“Morning, Keira,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at her. “Come in, come in.”

Keira entered, taking a seat opposite him. She always felt intimidated by Elliot’s office, like she was a school kid facing the principal.

“Everything okay?” he asked, tipping his gaze up to meet hers.

Keira swallowed the little lump of nerves that always formed in her throat when speaking to her boss. “Yes. I wanted to apologize, actually.”

“For what?” Elliot replied, frowning.

“For the last few weeks since I got back from France. I haven’t been my best.” Now that she’d begun speaking, she wanted to get it all out, and her words spilled off her tongue quickly. “And I know I’ve been avoiding picking a location for the new assignment, I think I just needed time after Cristiano. I was worried, you know? Another assignment, another broken heart. But I should have just been honest rather than avoiding the topic, so I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath, then smiled, feeling satisfied to have finally aired her worries.

“Oh,” Elliot replied, a bit blankly. “To be honest, I hadn’t noticed.”

Keira frowned. “You hadn’t? But you’ve emailed me pretty much every day asking where I wanted to go on my next assignment.”

Elliot shrugged. “I send a lot of emails, Keira. Look, I’m writing one to you as we speak. Guess I don’t need to now.” He clicked some buttons and then folded his arms and looked at her.

There was a long pause. Keira blinked. “Well, what was in the email?”

“Oh yes,” Elliot said, snapping back to attention. “It was about your new assignment abroad.”