CHAPTER 22

I woke up this morning with a little less dread than usual and not entirely appalled at the idea of venturing out of my house to have dinner with my family.

My mother cooks all our favorites, and I make an effort to participate in the conversations.

Mark gives me a hard time about work and my tan. He complains that it isn't fair that I spend my whole life holed up inside my house, yet I still manage to have a better tan than him.

"Hayden got your father's genes," Mom says to Mark. "And you got mine."

I watch them squabble across the dinner table, appreciating the normality of it all.

Meeting Levi has given me some tolerance for the normality of life.

Thoughts of Levi take me all through dinner. He's brought some life back into my world.

"Hayden?"

"Hmm?" I pull myself out of my reverie to focus on my mother.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She smiles fondly.

I give my head a small shake. "It's nothing. Dinner was great."

"Why don't we walk outside for a bit?"

I hesitate. Walks in the garden with my mother always end up in deep conversations. I'm not ready for deep conversations with anyone at the moment.

"Go on, Hayden," my father says. "You haven't been out there in ages."

Mark comes up behind us. "Mom, I need to get going," he says. "Thank you for dinner." And then to me, "It was good to see you, Hayden. Let's make it more often, yeah?"

I return his hug. "Yeah. Sure."

My mother slips her arm into mine, and we walk outside. "Summer's not too far away but it's quite cold out tonight, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Cold isn't always bad. We need it as much as we need warmth."

"Of course."

"We can't have only the good parts in life, right?"

The small talk sets me on edge because I'm familiar with this setup. Serious questions are coming. I wish my father would join us with another glass of wine. I could do with another drink. "Yes."

My mother smiles up at me. "The duality of life is what helps us appreciate and cherish all the good things."

I understand the subtext, but I don't think I could ever accept it. Why should love be love and pain? Why can't happiness just . . . fucking be happiness?

The air is chilly and invigorating, allowing me to breathe easier as we make our way toward the pergola. The firepit just next to the pergola crackles gently and adds to the soft light provided by the lanterns. It's a clear night tonight. The stars scattered across the dark sky remind me of Levi's painting. I do my best not to get lost looking up at them.

"How are you, really, Hayden?" my mother asks.

I give her a nonchalant smile. "I'm fine. Really."

"You still haven't told me what kept you from Nicholas's dinner. It wasn't easy shutting down the media."

"I know. And I'm sorry for putting you in that position. But that was nearly three months ago."

"I understand how hard it must have been for you, sweetheart, but what could have kept you away? Did you go back home? Did you leave the house at all?" She looks over at me with a smile. "I'm being a nosy mother; I know. I'm sorry."

I shove her shoulder with mine gently. "You're not in the least bit sorry."

Her smile turns sad. "Oh, Hayden, sweetheart, if something else brought you out of that house other than Nicholas, then, as a mother, it makes my heart happy to know that I might be getting my son back."

"I've always been here, Mom."

"You know what I mean, honey."

"I know. Can we talk about something else?"

"Of course, Hayden. There is something else I wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"Go ahead," I say.

"Nicholas's charities."

"What about them?" I ask, resisting the urge to clench my teeth.

"Elizabeth hasn't been well recently."

"What's happened?" I ask, feeling like a complete asshole for not staying in touch with Nicholas's parents.

"Well, like you, she struggles every day, Hayden. Nicholas was her everything."

"I – I'll give her a call."

"She'd love that. She asks about you all the time."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll give her a call as soon as possible." Then, because it's harder talking about how I avoid Nicholas's family at all costs than it is talking about his charities, I bring my mother back to her point of discussion. "Do you have concerns about Nicholas's charities?"

"Yes. Elizabeth has held onto them as long as she could, but Andrew tells me she's struggling to keep things together. The staff take care of the administration, but you know how Nicholas felt about being out with the people and walking the walk, so to speak. She's been forgetting to attend events, struggling to engage with the children at the hospitals. Andrew is worried about her. They both lost a son, but Elizabeth is inconsolable."

No. Don't say it. I don't think I'd do a better job than Elizabeth.

"Andrew asked if I thought you'd be ready to take over some of the charities sometime in the next few months."

"What did you say?"

"That I couldn't give him an answer." She turns to me. "Because I just don't know where you are in your grieving process, honey. I don't want to push you, but I also don't want to leave you to sink deeper and deeper into this pain. Maybe getting involved in Nicholas's charities again will be good for you."

I turn my face upward, toward the sky. The stars are bright and inviting, surrounding a crescent moon, making you think it really could be as simple as wishing upon one and all your wishes would come true. Or that the ones you love are there among the stars, shining down on you. Sometimes, I think Nicky is up there. Other times, it feels like it's all a lie. If Nicholas was up there somewhere, then why won't he guide me through this nightmare of living without him?

"I'll think about it," I say eventually. I don't know what else to say. Getting involved in Nicholas's charities would be the same as reliving our lives together all over again. I stood by his side and watched how the world loved him, worked alongside him when he helped build schools in Southern Africa. Sat with him among the local people and shared in their food and drink.

With him, all of it had been easy. There had been so much honor and love in the way Nicholas handled his philanthropic work. I could never be even a fraction of what he was to the people he loved and cared for all over the world.

With Nicholas, I was making the world a better place. Without him, all I am is a privileged businessman, capable only of authorizing payments to causes around the world on behalf of the family business. I could never live up to Nicholas's legacy, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to actively participate in his work knowing that he'll never again be able to do the work he loved so much.

My mother comes around to stand in front of me. She places her hands on my shoulders, rubbing gently. "That's enough for now," she says. "Just think about it."

We take a seat in the pergola. "Won't you tell me what happened the night of Nicky's dinner celebration?" she says with a smile.

I shake my head, chuckling. "I'm starting to think dinner was just a ploy to get me here for an interrogation."

She joins in my laughter. "I also know you've been rescheduling your diary in a way that isn't really you. What have you been making time for?"

"You need to stop being friends with my PA. I'll have a word with Kelsey about that," I say lightly.

"Don't be silly. Kelsey is like a stone wall. No one can get through. I know about your diary changes because Dad has been in some of those meetings you suddenly couldn't attend."

"So, Dad told you?"

She grins. "Pillow talk. So? Where were you on the evening of Nicholas's dinner?"

"You realize how that sounds, right?"

"Like an interrogation, I know. Now, answer me, my son."

"I went to an art gallery."

My mother doesn't even try to hide her surprise. "Which one?"

"A small one. In Alphabet City. I found it on my way to dinner."

"Did you find something you liked?"

My hesitation has her turning to face me fully. "It's okay to live, Hayden," she says softly.

My throat tightens in an effort to push all thoughts of Nicholas aside. "Mom, please. Don't—"

She takes my face between her hands. "If it had been you – if you were the one gone, what would you have wanted Nicholas to do?"

I try to swallow the ache in my throat. I fail.

"If the roles were reversed, wouldn't you have wanted him to be happy? Can you imagine Nicholas living the rest of his life without a single smile? A laugh? Not a single moment of joy. Would you have wanted that for him?"

"Of course not," I say gruffly.

"Then why do you allow yourself so much suffering, Hayden? Why can't you go to an art gallery and not feel like you've betrayed him?"

My mother's words are filled with love for, not just me, but Nicholas too. It takes me a minute to get my throat to work. "I met someone there," I say.

I watch her try to balance her joy with her sadness. Somehow, she manages. "Oh, Hayden. Tell me his name."

"Levi." His name falls from my mouth as easily as if it had flown out of my heart.

"Levi. I love that name. Tell me about him."

"He's an artist."

My mother's smile brightens. "An artist. That's incredible." A long pause ensues. She cracks under the silence first. It's an old game we used to play as children. If someone had important news, we'd all wait to see who would be the most curious and beg for details first. "Is he handsome?" she asks.

I laugh lightly. "Don't you mean, is he a good person or something like that?"

She returns my humor. "I was under pressure. It just came out. So, is he a good person?"

"I don't know him that well, but I think so."

My mother beams. "And . . . is he handsome?"

I consider letting her suffer a little, but it's been weeks since I felt Levi's chapped lips on mine. Talking about him to someone else is the closest I've come to feeling him again. "He's so beautiful, Mom."

Her throat moves, managing her tears well. They don't surface but they're there. "Please tell me it wasn't just one meeting?"

"He's doing some work for me. I've seen him a few times."

"What kind of work?"

"Artwork. I – I like his work, so I asked the gallery to have some custom pieces done."

"How beautiful is he? Tell me everything."

I laugh. "You're not normal," I tell her.

"Ha. Tell me what's normal, and I'll tell you the secret to eternal life. Now, tell me how beautiful he is."

"He has hair long enough to be pulled into a bun. Curly hair."

"What color?"

"Brown."

"Eyes?"

"Also, brown."

"Voice?"

"Soft."

"Temperament?"

"Also soft, I think."

"Smile?"

"Sad, sometimes."

My mother smiles. "We're allowed sad smiles. It's the duality of life. Tell me more."

"I don't know any more." Except for all the things I can't tell her: that he's bipolar, has severe anxiety and OCD, and who knows what other conditions that usually accompany Bipolar Disorder. And then, the other things, like how the scrape of his chapped lips against mine is the most erotic thing I have ever experienced. How much I want to just fucking let go and fuck him deep and hard and forever.

"Will you try to find out more?"

"Right now, he's working for me. It would be inappropriate to find out more."

Despite what I'm telling my mother, the thought that I haven't seen or spoken to Levi since he kissed me makes me angry. Several times, I resisted the urge to go out there and demand to know why he hasn't been in contact.

My mother shakes her head knowingly. "Your eyes lit up when you talked about him. Do you know that?"

I try to brush it away. "They did not."

She smiles. "They did." And then, "Your love for Nicholas will never end, Hayden, but you still deserve a second chance."

"It doesn't feel quite that simple," I say. But even I will have to own up to the fact that, although Nicholas is the great love of my life, the pull toward Levi is undeniable. I want to know every last thing there is to know about him. I want to know him in ways I never thought I would want to know another human being after Nicholas.

"If you feel something for this painter, go to him, Hayden."

My father steps into the garden with three glasses of wine, bringing our conversation to an end.

Despite the lingering brush of betrayal against my heart, I realize I can"t let this thing with Levi go.

Tomorrow, I'll go over there to the gallery and ask him why he hasn't kept in contact after kissing me. And then, I'll find a way to get him to kiss me again.