The New York Project

15. Let it go

They danced a lot, had a few drinks and mingled a little with Cecilia's funny and motley guests.

What they really wanted, however, was to be together. They didn't stop touching each other, even if it was just his hand in hers or his arm around her waist while dancing or talking to someone else. Whenever they had to leave each other for a couple of minutes, to fetch a new drink or to visit the loo for instance, Victoria would feel incomplete, lonely, uneasy.

As if it could all disappear as quickly as it came.

At some point, late into the night, he placed a kiss on her neck and murmured to her ear.

"Hey, it looks like a good time to go to your place, don't you think?"

"Oh, lad, I'm not at all opposed to this idea," she answered, "but we can't because I'm supposed to sleep here and to help Cecilia in the morning."

"Oh, I see. Can I stay as well?"

She found him adorable. She vehemently nodded and kissed him again.

Once the guests had left, Robbie gallantly offered to use the couch and to let the ladies sleep in Cecilia's bed. After a sly remark from the bold journalist – "Are you sure the two of you can refrain from jumping each other?" – Victoria thanked him in a cackle and kissed him tenderly to say goodnight.

A few minutes after having turned the lights off, lying next to her friend under the colourful ceiling of her bedroom, she spoke in the now silent flat.

"Hey, C., just after midnight, I told Robbie that I love him."

"Wow, girl, that's huge, I'm proud of you."

She gave her a high-five and asked, after hearing the complete summary of the events: "Are you afraid of your parents finding out the truth about you two and freaking out?"

Victoria thought for a moment before answering.

"I reckon I'll be afraid eventually, but today I'm not. And I'm not even drunk. I've never felt this good in my whole adult life."

Cecilia concluded the conversation with a "good for you", and blew her a goodnight kiss.

A few hours later, they found him preparing a homemade brunch in the kitchen, and their hostess joked about the fact that, if only for this, he was a keeper. Victoria seemed to agree and gave him a long and strong kiss, which brought another sly remark out from Cecilia – something about getting a room.

They ate, helped her clean the living room and finally went to Victoria's place, on foot. It was only a few blocks away and they wanted to enjoy the cold sun that was shining on this first afternoon of the year.

***

Once home, they stared at each other on the door way, almost shyly. She eventually took his hand in hers by saying "viens, mon chéri" in French – which was unusual for her and felt just right at this moment. She led him near the bed and slipped into his arms. He rocked her for a few minutes, his head bent towards hers, the floral scent of her hair filling him with plenitude.

They began undressing each other, very slowly, to discover each other once again. Kisses, caresses and stares for unveiling the tattoo on her left flank, the birthmark near his belly button, the constellation of beauty marks on her arm, the crease at the bottom of his back.

This embrace was as sweet and languorous as their last brief encounter was furious and hasty. It was like a dance: he would move his lips, his fingers or his hips, and less than a second later she would respond to his motion by moving in turn.

"Do you know what I miss the most when we're broken up?" he asked her after the tide of pleasure inside them had receded.

"I have a pretty good idea."

"No, no, not this. Well, a little bit of this, sure," he specified while caressing her bare flank and nuzzling her neck, "but mostly I miss your accent. It's so cute. You'd be a whole different person without it. This really is what I miss the most, I swear."

She chuckled, muttered a "liar" and placed a hundred kisses on his chest and his belly, his hands above his head, imprisoned in hers.

Later, sitting on her couch under a blanket, her legs on his lap, she thought about their last conversation between two sips of Christmas tea.

"You know, when we're broken up, it's myself that I miss the most. The woman I become when I'm with you. She's fun, less controlling, less uptight. It's ironic because of the family ties that should keep her constantly freaked out, but, I don't know how, she's just carefree and happy. I like this woman."

"So do I," he declared, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair.

"Sure you do," she retorted in a chuckle.

In his eyes, she could see the radiant glint of love that used to frighten her before.

It didn't anymore.

It was so much easier to acknowledge his feelings for her.

It was so much easier to acknowledge her feelings for him.

It was so much easier to let go.

***

A second honeymoon began.

It wasn't exactly like last summer, because of work and college, yet it was more intense, more real, more true. Their summer had been an unreal bubble, whereas, amid that cold winter, they found themselves in a both normal and extraordinary period of their life.

They would meet on at least two evenings during the week, and they would spend the weekends together. Robbie had to cook a lot of stories up to explain his being away from home so often: stories about a current crush or an important project to finish with his work group, or even about Colin in Boston.

Speaking of cooking, he would cook for her at her place – mostly pasta and risotto, and she would sometimes bake for him. He even asked her, one Sunday, to bake her infamous chocolate chip muffins for one of his work groups. As she wasn't feeling so keen to do it, he reminded her that he owed his comrades because he stayed the day before with her instead of working with them. She caved in, not after having labelled him devious, which made him burst in laughter and kiss her aplenty.

They would also spend some evenings with Cecilia, and the collusion between her and the young man never ceased to impress Victoria. Either talking about a movie or a book, or about politics or society in general, they would bounce assertions back at each other, without tiring and without never arguing. Victoria's heart would leap with joy each time her best friend would call her lover "kiddo".

They used his Christmas gift, the tickets to a Muse concert, and they used it well.

The show was fantastic.

Victoria had always preferred more intimate gigs. She thought that piano bombast, slashing guitars, geysers of fog, and an endlessly morphing pyramid of lights, lasers and flashing images could be a tad distracting. She however had to admit that the lights, sound and performances of these three fellow Brits were astonishing. It wasn't even in a huge stadium, but the energy, obsession and sincerity that the band members put in the rendition of their thoroughly written songs were remarkable. It was a show that carries you far away, and that stays within you for a while.

When they began playing Starlight, Robbie moved to stand behind her, his arms around her and his chin on one of her shoulders. He held her very tight and gently swayed her. At some point, she squeezed his hand, which was on her belly, to make him understand that she knew – he had told her that this song triggered something in him at Colin's New Year's Eve party, and she remembered, obviously.

"I just wanted to hold

You in my arms"