The New York Project

10. All my will

A little while later, they came down in the living room to wait for Henry and Brooke without raising any suspicion. They caught up on their time apart, sitting on one of the black leather couches, with only their hands joined.

Afterwards it was frustrating, as it had been a few weeks before at the beach, to lie in different beds, in different rooms, while in the same house. A smile reached Victoria's lips while she visualised him thoroughly pulling the sheet out to intertwine his legs with it. Curled up on herself like a child, she then sighed, clenching a piece of sheet in a fist and trying to sleep.

Gratefully, she was in a state close to inebriation thanks to the cute, incessant twittering of the birthday celebration, and thus soon fell asleep.

The next morning, Charlotte couldn't stop talking about her perfect party and about Victoria's awesome dress.

"Yes, your gown was amazing, Victoria," commented Brooke, almost warmly, "and thank you for your involvement in your sister's birthday."

If only you knew what I did with your son right after.

Victoria squirmed a little, thinking of their messed-up situation. There wasn't a single scenario where this could end well.

How awful will it be in the end?

"Oh, thanks, Brooke, it was a delight," she declared nonetheless while hugging the girl.

Her eyes caught Robbie's for a few seconds. As always, his smile soothes her, and, just like that, she could get past her previous dread.

Brooke became Brooke again anyway when she made everybody feel bad about themselves because of their alleged insanely high sugar intake of the weekend – everyone but her had some leftovers from the birthday party instead of a bowl of porridge for breakfast.

Victoria took this as her cue to leave, and Robbie casually offered to help her get her stuff back home. After one last hug with Charlotte and a kiss to her father, they rode the subway to her place without talking much – perhaps a touch of awkwardness was settling between them after all.

***

A few evenings later

"You're back together then?" asked Cecilia once Victoria was done talking about her sister's birthday.

The two friends were hanging out, after work, in one of their usual haunts in the Village. Victoria suddenly felt uneasy, probably because of the high metal stool on which she was sitting – so uncomfortable, of course, albeit modern and perfectly paired with the black ceiling and the large light bulbs coming down from it.

"Yes. Well, we're having fun, we're keeping things casual. We've decided that we will be seeing each other one or two nights a week."

Cecilia raised her eyebrows whereas her friend said nothing more and persisted on looking at her, daring her to comment on this piece of information.

"So he's just a booty call, right?"

"No! Well... And so what if he is? You, of all people, aren't going to judge me for this, are you? You're part of the reason why we hooked up in the first place," marked the young woman in a defensive tone.

"I'm well aware of that, Vee, but, since then, I've met him, I've seen the two of you together, and, um, let's just say that you're important to him. If he isn't that important to you, or if you're telling yourself this because you don't want something serious at the moment or because you think it's too messed up, or both, maybe you should call it off. Again."