Page 179 of The Havenport Collection

Sylvie

I lounged on the magenta couch, relaxing into its softness.

My guitar was propped up against the side.

I had another hour before my next lesson down the street, so I had stopped by to see Gina and Eliza.

They were sharing an apartment downtown above Jeanius Bar, a cute clothing boutique where Gina was the manager.

I found Gina folding sweaters in the store, clad in her usual all black, her dark hair slicked back into an intricate braid. She had recently come home to Havenport from the west coast where she was in graduate school. Her cousin Nora owned the store and gave her the job.

“My feet are killing me,” Gina whined before collapsing onto the couch next to me. Her black leather boots, while stylish, looked like torture.

She still hadn’t told us why she left school.

Gina was brilliant and had been out in California at CalTech for almost a decade.

I knew she had big dreams and wasn’t sure what had happened.

But she was always the quiet, serious one in our crew.

She would come around eventually. In the meantime, I was determined to soak up as much time with my friends as I could.

I had no idea how things would change once I started my new job.

“So is it true you were spotted at the diner with the new mountain-man brewer?” Gina asked, looking at me and then glancing at Eliza who chugged her coffee and shrugged. She had just woken up and was getting ready for her night shift at the hospital in a couple of hours.

“It wasn’t a date. I was just showing him around town.”

“And kissing him on the sidewalk,” Eliza sniggered.

I hurled a sequined throw pillow at her. “Yes. He is very kissable.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “And he’s smitten with you.”

“There is no way you could tell that from across the street.”

“I didn’t need to. Jackie texted my Nonna who told me. Said he was staring at you with moon eyes in the diner, and you kept blushing.” She gestured to her phone. “I can show you the photos they sent.”

I groaned and lay back on the comfy couch. I was torn between the desire to tell my girlfriends every detail about Wyatt and a protective instinct that made me want to clam up.

“So…you’re in love with him.”

I sat up. “I am not.”

Gina put an arm around me and squeezed. “Don’t lie to us, Sylvie. You are never interested in anyone. You don’t go out, you don’t flirt, and you don’t date. You stay home with your keyboard and your vinyl collection.”

She wasn’t wrong. I was fairly ambivalent about dating. But it was because I’d never met someone that interested me, that excited me, that challenged me. And Wyatt? It was too early to tell. And I was moving. So no use getting serious.

“Just tell the truth,” Gina pressed.

“Fine. I am seriously infatuated with him.”

Gina and Eliza high-fived.

“And he kisses like a goddamn prince in a Disney movie.”

Eliza started to dance. “About time, girl.” She shimmied around the racks of clothes joyfully. She had always been the free-spirited one, dragging Gina and me out of our comfort zones on many occasions.

Gina narrowed her eyes at me. “What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea. I like him, and I am going to spend as much time with him as I can over the next two weeks.”

“And then?”

“And then we see. I’m only going to Connecticut, not the moon. It’s only three hours away. We could date…” I trailed off, not even managing to convince myself.

“Of course you could.” Eliza pretended to be enthralled by a stack of pink sweaters.

“But?” I asked defensively.

She shrugged. “Are you sure that’s what you want? Not Wyatt—he sounds dreamy and amazing. But this new job. Moving away.”

She and Gina exchanged a look, and I felt guarded. Had they planned this intervention?

“Guys, I love you both so much, and I appreciate your support of my music. But this is what I want—a real job, a real career, something I can be proud of.” My dad had helped me land this new job.

It was an entry-level sales position with a large pharmaceutical company in Connecticut.

I had to report for my training program in three weeks.

I wasn’t exactly qualified to sell pharmaceuticals, but I got the sense they just recruited personable young women for the role.

Apparently I’d have to visit doctor’s offices all day, talking about some new painkiller they had just approved.

My parents were thrilled. They were both accountants and quite successful.

I respected how hard they worked and the tremendous support they had given me as a child.

But over the past few years, things started to become strained.

They simply didn’t see music as a long-term career and felt that it was best if I moved on.

“You aren’t proud of your songwriting? Your talents?” Eliza asked, wrapping an infinity scarf around her head.

“It’s not the same. Plus, I write songs that no one hears.”

Gina put her hands on her hips, clearly shifting into bossy mode. “You worked really hard to nurture your talents just like I worked hard to nurture my scientific gifts. You keep working, keep learning, and things fall into place. You will be ready to share your songs eventually. Don’t quit yet.”

My eyes narrowed, and I felt a flare of anger in my belly. “You are the last person to call me a quitter, Gina.” Her face paled, and I immediately regretted my words.

“I’m sorry,” I said, standing up and walking over to her. I hated how defensive I was feeling about this decision. I didn’t want to lash out at my best friends.

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” she said in a whisper.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her, and Eliza joined our hug. “I’m just stressed. I’m going to miss you guys so much.” I sniffled into her hair.

“We will miss you too,” Eliza said, squeezing me harder.

I clung to my friends, taking comfort in their unwavering love and support, willing myself not to start crying.

I knew that once the tears started flowing, they wouldn’t stop.

I had been pushing my feelings down for so long, they were threatening to bubble up and spill over.

I needed to get my head on straight and focus on my future, on what I was gaining, not what I was losing.

But what if the cost was too great? What if I lost too much?