Patrick
There’s something to be said about how grief manifests. I was sad at Aleksy’s funeral, I cried, I got emotional when the ties to the office were severed, but I didn’t break down. I threw myself into bad habits that made it easier to forget that things were difficult now; working out to keep my mind off it, a drink or two to relax myself, hitting up every contact I could find to get myself a new start. When things started to crack, I just pushed myself harder, when that didn’t work, I planned us a vacation.
I put on a good face for Christmas. I worked hard to make it special for Lydia because it was our first major holiday together and I thought she deserved it more than anyone else. But it was harder than I thought to pretend that it was just a fun vacation and that I wasn’t hurting.
The actual day was fine, I made it through without dwelling on it too much, but it was when we packed back up that it hit me. I missed Aleksy. His birthday was in January, that was what Celestyn told me, and it made the trip home difficult because all I could think of was that I could have been flying back to Poland to see him again. I would have liked to have him at the wedding too, but I could have been heading out from Aspen back to Krakow to spend his birthday with him and my grandmother.
I didn’t mention it to either Jon or Lydia, I didn’t want to bring them down. The vacation was just so calm and relaxed that it didn’t feel right to spoil the mood like that. By the time we were back in New York a few days later, the ache in my chest had grown to a full-body sensation that made me sluggish as I rushed around the city to get ready for the engagement party.
Usually these parties were held just after a proposal had been accepted, not just a few weeks before the wedding. Mum had excitedly planned a party when the announcement had gone up on Facebook to my private friend list, but Dia’s publishing company had begged her to postpone it so that they could use it as a publicity stunt. I reluctantly took my post down and informed the people around us to keep it hush-hush for now. It had gotten around a little bit, obviously, but the general public had no idea and by the morning, we would be the hottest scoop in the society pages.
I stood in my mostly empty apartment, eyeing the furniture in my bedroom suspiciously, as if it had all moved six inches to the left while I was gone. Jon didn’t seem to notice while he sat on the bench seat in my closet, playing with his phone while I was trying not panic about literally everything.
“I can’t believe this,” I whispered, shoving another rack of suits to the side. “How can I have nothing to wear?”
“You have a wardrobe that’s bigger than my first apartment,” he remarked dryly. “You have more than enough to wear.”
“But none of it fits!” I was on the verge of tears now as I threw a navy jacket on the floor. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about this sooner. How am I so unprepared?”
I’d picked up a few shirts and new pants here and there, just adding them to Jon’s closet as I went because I didn’t really need to dress up all the time now. For my meetings with Edward, I just stole a suit or two from Jon. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that by working out as much as I was and gaining more muscle than normal that I wouldn’t fit the clothes I had already.
“Patrick, really, it’s going to be fine,” Jon said. He got up and placed his hand on my back. “I already told you that you can borrow one of mine. I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up about an outfit.”
Because it was the only thing I had complete control over and now I didn’t even have that. I didn’t have a job, I didn’t have friends, I didn’t have my father, and I didn’t even have a suit that fit me. My throat constricted painfully and I had to fight to stay composed in front of Jon. I didn’t need to ruin this day.
“I don’t know.” I rubbed my face and sat down onto the bench while staring blankly at the hangers of multi-coloured suits, brocade tuxes, and silk ties.
Jon liked a simple black suit, usually paired with a stark white dress shirt and sleek gray tie. A very traditional outfit that fit him well, but my wardrobe was full of color, modern styles like slim fitted or double-breasted jackets. I liked to stand out.
The gold and black brocade tux I had set aside for tonight weeks ago was now way too small for me and constricted my arms so badly that I was worried the fabric would tear.
“We can get you another shirt,” Jon offered. “I’ll see if that tailor on Madison Avenue can get us in before he closes—”
“He’s not going to be able to do anything,” I interrupted bitterly. “We’re already going to be late and we still need to pick up Dia.”
“Oh, boo fucking hoo, late to your own engagement party.” Jon scoffed and pulled his phone out. “Give me a minute.”
I watched him stalk out to the bedroom while I sat there feeling uniquely helpless. How could I have forgotten this? Lydia had been in my ear about the party for the last month, she showed me the dress she bought with Allie and I’d noted happily that we would be matching. It the smallest thing in the world but it felt like the final blow in a laundry list of shitty things to happen.
But I didn’t do anything, I just sat there and stared at my closet silently until Jon came back in.
“Alright, Lucy is anticipating that you’ll be late, Michelin is picking up Lydia and taking her to the venue with Maritza and Allison, you and I need to get over to the tailor because he’s going to get you set up with something.” Jon grabbed my arm and hauled me up. “Come on, we’re not wallowing, you have over two hundred guests to entertain.”
Was that all? Mum had thrown larger parties.
Jon pulled me along with him, ignoring my silence and just giving me instructions for things to bring with us. The Maybach Pullman was waiting in the parking garage next to Lydia’s new gleaming white Cadillac Escalade that Jon and I had custom built for her. She hadn’t seen it yet, she would get it tonight, but even that didn’t bring my mood up any.
I slipped in behind the passenger seat as usual while Jon took his behind the driver.
“I know this is a hard time,” Jon said as he turned to me. “The first Christmas is always the hardest and I really can’t say that it gets better, but it does get easier to deal with.”
I just shrugged and fixed my gaze out the window. “Christmas was great, I already told you I want to go back next year when we have the baby.”
It really was great, the sleigh ride on Christmas Eve had been the perfect touch and just the right thing for me to do with Lydia. It was just the ache that something was missing that dragged me back down from the high.
“And we can,” he agreed. “Or we can spend the holidays with Lucy and Nora, we could even fly Celestyn down—”
“She can’t do that,” I snapped. “It’s too far for her to be going back and forth. The woman is nearly one hundred, Jon.”
“Then we bring her here and set up an in-law suite,” he continued evenly. “She can stay as long as she wants.”
You would do that? “We’d need a nurse for her,” I said after a moment of silence. “And I don’t even know if she wants to come.”
“You wouldn’t know because you haven’t talked to her.”
I stayed quiet. I’d told Jon already that it was hard with them because A.J. and my sisters struggled to accept me but Celestyn didn’t care about that, and one relationship without the other reminded me of what I was still missing.
“I don’t want to do this right now, not before the party,” I told him finally.
Jon sighed and pulled his phone out. From the corner of my eye I could see him texting Ike, but I didn’t say anything for the rest of the ride.
Like Jon had said, the tailor was waiting for us and opened the doors as soon as we got out of the car. He waved us through the double glass doors and quickly locked them again when we stepped into his studio. Suits and tuxes were displayed all over the front room in dozens of styles, colors, and patterns. Through the archway at the back I could see racks of fabric and several platforms surrounded by mirrors.
“Mr. Rosing, Mr. Harris, so good to have you here,” the man greeted with a swift handshake. “Come right this way, I’ll get some measurements and get something whipped up.”
Jon thanked him and we followed the man to the back room where I was instructed to stand on the white platform to get my numbers taken. He was much older than either of us, with no hair whatsoever but a distinctly silver beard trimmed close to his face. His suit was interesting, a bright green, yellow, and blue floral pattern with a black shirt. In any other circumstances, I might be compelled to try the same thing on for myself if only for the shock factor.
In my head, I swore to myself that I would schedule an appointment to get a bespoke suit made for the wedding. I wouldn’t tell the wedding planner or Lydia that I hadn’t done so already.
“So you are just in luck because I happen to have these two beauties,” the tailor called back to me. He came back holding up two jackets with a pair of black dress pants. “Now, I was personally thinking green would be an excellent color on you, but we also have purple if you want something more regal.”
The purple was the one that stood out to me. The gothic color pattern with the intricate floral design embroidered into the jacket was exactly what I liked and would stand out easily. I asked for it first and he helped me into a black shirt that didn’t need any adjustments before pulling on the jacket to check the fit.
“It’s a little long in the arms,” he mused while coming close to stabbing me with the pin. “But I do that up no problem.”
“Really?” I asked as I took the jacket back off.
“Oh yeah, that’s nothing.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Give me three minutes here and then we’ll check the pants.”
He left in a flurry of fabric once more and stood there feeling oddly self-conscious about being the only half-naked person in the room.
Jon smirked at me from his spot beside the mirror and crossed his knees. “There are few problems that can’t be solved with money, Patrick. I expected you to know that.”
I could just imagine how much he offered the man to get us seen. “You jumped to this guy pretty quickly,” I replied. “Do you know him?”
“Norm introduced us, I get all my suits here now. Nothing nefarious.”
Well, because he said that I had to assumed they fucked on the front desk but I wasn’t about to voice that out loud.
“Do you want to talk about it now?” he pressed.
I shook my head. “Not tonight, please. Just let me try and enjoy this.”
Jon inclined his head in acknowledgement and didn’t say anything further for the rest of the fitting. True to the tailor’s words, he had both the jacket and the pants hemmed for me in less than five minutes. He explained that the silhouette was fine for now but said next time if I was able to give him for warning he would be able to properly adjust it for a better shape. I promised to come back again while Jon paid, something I really didn’t need him to do but he insisted on.
He grabbed my arm and ushered me back out onto the street and into the Maybach as fast as possible, ignoring the snarky people that we cut off on the sidewalk. I shoved into the car hastily with Jon crowding in behind me, we weren’t even fully seated before the car was moving again.
“Five minutes,” he mused, checking his watch. “Someone get me a medal for this shit.”
Honestly the fact that we might actually be on time was astounding to me considering everything. “Are you going to take on an assistant role next?” I teased.
“And upstage our girl? I think not.”
Our girl. My eyes flicked to Jon briefly and I felt just the tiniest amount of stress leave my shoulders.
We weren’t far from Gotham Hall and as we got closer I noticed the car slowing down and the parade of vehicles lining up the street to drop off guests. The venue was mum’s favorite, she and Lydia had picked it together and it would hold more than enough for tonight. The actual building was huge; Corinthian pillars lined the front of the building up the roof, going up at least seven stories, behind them was lit up in purple that contrasted perfectly with the aged gray stone.
The drivers voice cut through the speaker. “Mr. Harris?”
Jon looked up from his phone. “Yes, Neil?”
“They have a spot around the back for you to come in, we’re just pulling up now.”
“Thank you.”
I chuckled and tucked my phone into my jacket. “Mum thought of everything then, as usual.”
Jon laughed in agreement just as the car slowed to a stop under a canopy. Our doors were opened in unison and we both stepped out onto the walkway. At the backdoor were two security guards, one of which appeared to be getting an earful from my mother. I came around the back of the car to Jon’s side, mum met us with an excited squeal at the top of the stairs, pulling first me into a hug and then him.
“Oh, you’re on time, thank god,” she praised as she held me at arm’s length. “And you look so good, I can’t wait to see the pictures.”
She covered her mouth and sniffled dramatically before finally leading us inside. Jon’s hand brushed mine faintly, just enough that it made me take a deep, reassuring breath. Even without Aleksy here tonight, I could make it through. I had to.
An extremely familiar scream caught me off-guard and before I could process it, I suddenly had Lydia in my arms. A suspiciously tall Lydia at that.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I murmured as kissed her hair. “I’m sorry we didn’t come pick you up.”
She pulled back and beamed up at me, eyes sparkling. “It’s all good, mom was running early anyway so it worked out perfectly.”
“Do I get a hug before we go in?” Jon asked.
She laughed and reached for him next. He held her longer, probably preparing himself for a night of just being my close friend instead of our boyfriend. We’d already discussed it and he was comfortable with that, it just made things easier for now.
When Lydia stepped back again, I got a good look at her dress; it was short, just about mid-thigh and clung to her body like latex. It was covered in black sequins that made it shimmer in the light and perfectly disguised her growing bump. The neckline came up to the base of her throat, surprisingly conservative for her, and it was full sleeve with slight structuring in the shoulders. Gold sequins exploded across the shoulder’s outwards like a flare. Had I worn the gold brocade tux, we would have matched better, but we still looked good together as it was.
Nora came to give us both a kiss before we joined everyone else and both my parents promised to take care of Jon for the evening so that he wasn’t alone. Not that Maritza would let that happen either, but it was good to know that he had plenty of company.
The ballroom was stunning; the domed ceiling was lit up in golds and blues that matched the linens. From the chandelier in the center, lengths of chiffon draped outward and hung down the walls in soft waves to the marble floor. Circular tables surrounded the dancefloor where people were mingling in a mass of designer gowns and hand-tailored tuxes.
I noticed Allie and Maritza over with Michelin and Lewis who were all sitting together at one table. We stopped over to greet them first. Lydia hugged her foster mom hard, I watched the older woman do that same and saw her blot away a rogue tear before urging us to go and enjoy our party.
We danced, we ate, we shook the hands of over two hundred people that were here to celebrate our love. Everybody cheered for the countdown to midnight and we toasted each other happily.
“It’s ginger ale,” she whispered to me when I eyed her glass with suspicion. “I’m getting extra special treatment from the staff.”
I laughed and pulled her close to my side, because if I didn’t I would lose myself. These people had no idea what was going on in our lives, they were just here to get drunk. They weren’t who I would have invited because that man was dead and his children hated me. I handed off my glass to waiter and asked him to bring back scotch instead.
“I’m going to go dance with my dad for minute, okay?” Lydia asked as she pushed up from the table.
“Yeah, of course.” I waved to them, watching Lewis lead her onto the dancefloor just as the band started another song.
The colors of the lights reflected in her sleek ponytail and made her dress glitter like a beacon. She would always be the center of attention and fit perfectly into this life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
But it was still hard to watch them together, to see someone else healing from their loss when it felt like that would never happen for me.
“Pat.”
I looked up to see Jon holding a bottle of brandy and two glasses. He grinned and took the empty seat next to me.
“You looked lonesome,” he remarked, pouring us both a glass. “I thought I would come cheer you up before Natalie came and found you again.”
“Oh, she’s harmless,” I said dismissively. “Just clingy.”
“And extremely not over you which upsets Lydia,” he pointed out.
Natalie set Lydia’s teeth on edge, but so did any other woman that came in my direction, I couldn’t really fault either of them. “Thanks.”
“You’re quiet.”
I shrugged. “I’m just overwhelmed.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Pat—”
“Stop,” I snapped. Turning to him, I went on, “Stop badgering me, stop picking at me, just stop. When I want to talk, I’ll talk.”
There was a very heavy silence between us that chilled me and made me turn back in my seat, facing toward the dancefloor again.
“You know,” Jon began coldly. “This is stressful for everyone right now. Lydia knows there’s something wrong, she’s scared you’re going to leave her, she thinks it’s because of the baby. The longer you put this off, the more you worry her – the more you worry me.”
With that, he took the glass from my hand and left me sitting there.
I stared down at the navy blue tablecloth, just barely making out individual threads on it. What was I supposed to say? I could still feel him holding my hand when his grip went limp. The loss was unimaginable. I couldn’t tell Lydia that. I didn’t want to tell anyone that.
“Sir?” a gentle voice asked. I glanced up to see Lydia holding her hand out to me with a welcoming smile. “Would you like to dance?”
The light hit her perfectly, giving her a glowing halo of golden light that made me take her hand without a word. I let her lead us back onto the dancefloor and wrapped my arms around her waist. We didn’t dance the way I had shown her in Jon’s living room, we just rocked back and forth like that while holding each other. She smelled like citrus tonight and she was the most comforting thing in the room.
I buried my face in her shoulder while I tried to hold myself together.
“Patrick, I love you,” she whispered, twirling her fingers through my hair. “Like no one else in this world and I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I know,” I said hoarsely. “But I’m not going anywhere, baby, I’m right here and I love you too.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting,” she continued. “Even if it’s years from now, okay?”
“What if I’m never ready?”
“You will be, eventually.” She pulled back and brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face. “No one is asking you to get over this, not ever. I still miss my dad too.”
For the first time in a long time, I finally let myself cry. Lydia held onto me while the music played and people danced, oblivious to my tears soaking into her dress. I’d never been more thankful to have her in my life.