Page 34 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)
Chapter Eighteen
LAURA
“I was so focused on falling and getting hurt, I forgot I could fly. Or maybe it was the vodka red bulls that helped me sprout wings.”
I can ’ t believe I just told Val all of that. What must he think about me? I ’ m such an idiot...
My heart feels heavy, and I can’t shake the fear that I’ve said too much. But deep down, there’s also a flicker of relief—like maybe, just maybe, I don’t have to carry it all alone anymore.
The other half of my soul…
Sam never said anything romantic, so Val’s confession warms my heart.
Maybe he’s right…the other half…
The waterway glistens as we pass over the bridges connecting us back to the city, casting shimmering reflections of Manhattan's lights in a mesmerizing dance.
The sight is almost hypnotic, and I feel a strange mix of awe and comfort watching the way the city lights ripple across the water's surface. It’s like the city is welcoming me back, even with all my mess.
Val guides the car into the underground garage of his building, where the space is sleek and modern. The air smells faintly of concrete and motor oil, and the echo of our footsteps as we step out of the car feels almost reverent after his confession in this quiet.
We take the elevator up to his place, the quiet hum of the lift adding to the anticipation. What will I do? Am I actually ready for more? When the doors open, they reveal his cozy yet sophisticated condo.
I glance around, a soft smile tugging at my lips. “I always forget how incredible this place is, Val.”
Val walks to the kitchen area where he pours us each a shot of vodka, the crystal-clear liquid catching the light as he hands one to me in a shot glass covered in Russian nesting dolls.
I giggle at the cuteness of the little cup.
“It’s yours, and only for the best vodka,” Val winks as he raises his own shot glass covered in scenes from Moscow. “Found them online and couldn’t resist.”
“Here’s to a relaxing night,” I say with a grin. We clink glasses and take our shots, the smooth warmth of the vodka spreading through me.
It’s not just the alcohol—it’s the feeling of being here, in this safe space, that makes me relax. It reminds me of the times I’d sneak a drink with friends, pretending we were grown-ups with no cares in the world. “Thanks for letting me cry all over your shirt.”
“It was my pleasure, Laura baby. Come, sit with me. Did you know,” Val begins as we settle on his sofa, my feet tucked under my body as I rest against his side.
“The East River kind of reminds me of the Don River back in Russia. My uncle Volva lives in Rostov-na-Donu. It’s similar to here in New York, but from what I’ve been told, with more of a Louisianan cajun vibe. ”
My eyes light up with interest. “Really? Tell me more.”
“Well,” he continues, “Rostov-na-Donu is the largest city in southern Russia, known for its historical architecture and vibrant culture. It’s actually older than the United States.
The Don River flows through it, dividing the city and providing a beautiful backdrop to the country side.
Every family in the city has a dacha, or farm house, in the country to escape.
It’s rustic, old concrete, small park, and the area is rich with history, and the blend of charm from Peter the Great’s Era with modern touches makes it quite special.
Sometimes I think Brighton Beach is just a miniature version and that’s why I like to go there so much. ”
Listening intently, my curiosity is piqued. “It sounds beautiful.”
Val nods, a sense of nostalgia flowing in his eyes. “It is. Maybe one day, I can show you. For now, let’s just enjoy the night here and while we watch a movie, maybe I can show you some pictures from the internet?”
Val starts the movie, the new Alice in Wonderland , and we snuggle under blankets on the sofa after he stretches my legs over his.
The glow of the TV lights up our faces, and I can’t help but feel a sense of contentment.
The warm weight of the blankets, coupled with Val’s steady presence beside me, makes me feel like I’ve found a place of peace, even if only for a little while.
As promised, Val occasionally shows me pictures of some of his favorite places in Russia.
I sigh and visualize being there, eating the food, living in their world.
As the movie continues to play in the background, Val glances at me with curiosity. “So, enough pictures of the motherland, I have a question that I really need to know.”
I look at him, raising at eyebrow, “Okay, ask. ”
“How did you convince Skip and Rhea to move with you to NYC?”
Chuckling softly, I tell him, “Skip has always dreamed of Hollywood and is hoping this move will be a stepping stone to something big. Even though he loves being a flight attendant, he literally is traveling the world and wants more. More fashion, more beauty, and probably more drama. As for Rhea, she’s passionate about design and saw this as a perfect chance to dive deeper into graphic arts.
She’s also double majoring in linguistics because she picks up languages so easily.
You should actually teach her some Russian.
She will probably catch on faster than me.
However, as glamorous as her passion sounds, I have a feeling she’s going to ultimately settle down and be an art teacher, like her older cousin Bianca. ”
I pause for a moment, thinking about how much they mean to me. “They’re both like my family. I don’t know if I’d have had the courage to make this move without them. We’ve always had each other’s backs, and it felt right to take this leap together.”
But then I sigh. “Skip and Rhea don’t want to stay in NYC forever.
We were only supposed to be here a year, and now we are on our second because of Rhea and my classes not transferring properly.
Both of them are actually thinking about moving somewhere quieter eventually.
Well, I know Rhea is. She admitted the other week that after she gets her degree this Spring, she’s wants to move somewhere new.
Doesn’t know where yet, but that’s Rhea.
When she does finally decide, it will be sporadic and full of adventure.
She literally decided to move with Skipper and me two days before we left Alabama. ”
Val looks at me with a playful grin. “Hmmm… Well, don’t tempt me with an offer to convince you to just move in with me. The rent here is cheaper than your three-bedroom, and it’s cl oser to school and work. So, why don’t we do it? Move in here, with me.”
He looks so hopeful, his brown eyes pleading that I give in and just do it. But, I don’t know if is okay to move in with you so soon Val.. I mean… What if…
I glance at him, smirking. “Or, you know, you could just move in with us. We could always use another roommate,” I say, half-joking, half-serious.
Rhea and Skipper would probably get a kick out of it.
Skipper would say he knew all along, and Rhea?
She’d act annoyed but would secretly be thrilled to split the rent into quarters.
We have always been a crew looking for more pirates on our crazy ship. I reflect, thinking on the days we were back home and how many people “lived” with us on a daily basis because Skip could cook, Rhea made great drinks, and I, well, I always found the best weed.
Sigh… Sometimes I miss that old trailer off ole’ Creel Lane.
Val raises an eyebrow, chuckling before he hums, “Oh, that’s a tempting offer. But I think I’ll hold off a bit before taking over your apartment. For now, I’m just happy to have you here with me.”
I snuggle closer, resting my head on his shoulder. We settle into a comfortable silence, the movie playing softly in the background. My heart beat begins to slow, I feel calm tucked into our shared warmth and closeness. It’s providing a much-needed solace I didn’t realize I was missing.
Being held like this.
As if sensing I needed more, Val’s arm wraps around me more securely, and I can feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, steady and reassuring.
I let myself relax fully, my breathing matching his.
The movie becomes nothing more than background noise as I focus on the warmth of his body against mine.
There’s something grounding about being here, in this space, with him.
It’s like all the chaos of my life is held at bay, just for a while.
As the night wears on, I’m filled with a profound sense of gratitude even though I still have this innate awkwardness. Val’s presence, especially after my breakdown, even with the limits I’ve set, is a comfort I cherish.
“I’m sorry I unloaded so much,” I say quietly after a while.
“It’s okay. It’s my pleasure to be here for you. I told you then, I’ll remind you if I have to, but you are important to me, Laura, you are special.”
“I just feel, weird… Like maybe I shared too much.”
Val pulls away and looks into my eyes, his brown ones reflecting the colors of the TV screen.
“Laura, I want to be the person you can lean on, the person you can call. How many times do I have to tell you. I want to be your person, and I want you to be mine. So whatever you want to say, I’m going to listen.”
“Okay,” I reply, feeling better that Val isn’t freaked out that I had a hyperactive moment with my words.
I rest my head back on his shoulder, sinking further into him, and we drift into a comfortable silence, the kind that feels rare and precious. His arm is around me, and I don’t think I’ve felt this steady in a long time. It’s like he’s become my anchor, the one stable thing in a sea of uncertainty.