Page 42 of So Close to You
“Then stop punishing her for it. If you’re not going to be brave, set her truly free. Don’t come looking for her again when your perfect home starts to suffocate you once more.”
The door opens again before Seraphina can answer, and Maeve pauses for a moment in the doorway.
“Because one day you’re going to break her so badly that not even you will be able to fix her.”
Maeve disappears, and Seraphina is left alone in front of the mirror, her heart pounding violently beneath her dress. For a couple of minutes, she doesn’t move. She thinks about leaving, about going home, about crawling into bed next to Elliot and pretending she can keep surviving in that life. But then she thinks of Nerissa on the other side of those walls and realizes she hasn’t come to say goodbye. She’s come to fight for her love.
The gallery has a back area reserved for storage and exhibit setup, separated from the main bustle by a dark hallway lit only by small emergency lights.
Nerissa is alone, leaning against a brick wall, staring toward the back door. She holds an unlit cigarette between her fingers, though she doesn’t seem to have any intention of lighting it.
Seraphina stops a few steps away, her heart racing.
“Maeve told me you were here,” she says, though she still can’t bring herself to look at her.
“You didn’t reply to my message,” Seraphina adds.
Now she turns slowly. Nerissa’s brown eyes pierce her with an almost painful intensity, heavy with a deep, resigned weariness.
“What did you want me to say, Seraphina?” she asks coldly. “‘Let’s start over as if nothing happened’?”
“Don’t do that,” Seraphina pleads, taking a step toward her.
“Do what? Tell the truth for once?”
Seraphina feels her eyes welling up.
“It took a lot for me to write that message.”
Nerissa lets out a bitter laugh and sets her cigarette down on a nearby box.
“Right. I guess Elliot must have kissed you especially well that weekend for you to feel like writing that.”
The cruelty of the remark takes her breath away.
“You don’t know how I’m dealing with this,” she murmurs.
“No. The one who doesn’t know how I’m dealing with this is you,” Nerissa retorts, stepping away from the wall. “You’re going back to a beautiful home, to your kids, to a husband you’re also tearing apart, by the way. And I’m going back alone to an apartment where every corner reminds me of someone who doesn’t have the courage to stay with me for even a second.”
Guilt threatens to tear her in two. Then Seraphina lowers her gaze.
“It’s never been as easy as simply choosing you.”
“I know. I never said that was the easy part, Seph,” Nerissa admits, moving a little closer. “But I’m tired of begging for love on the terms of your fear.”
Seraphina feels tears gathering in her eyes.
“I thought this was what you wanted. For me to fight for you.”
Nerissa’s expression shifts, revealing the pain that has always been there beneath the surface.
“I’ve fought for you for years,” she replies. “I’ve waited for you. I’ve put up with endless nights in hotels, escapes before dawn. I’ve endured watching you leave every time your conscience started screaming at you. And yet I’ve never asked you to leave them. Not Elliot. Not your children. Just to fight for what’s supposed to make you happier.”
Seraphina feels a desperate need to touch her, to hold her, to ask forgiveness for everything she’s done. But Nerissa keeps her distance, as if she’s finally learned to protect herself.
“I love you,” Seraphina confesses.
“I know that too,” Nerissa replies, closing her eyes for a moment. “That’s precisely the problem. Because you love me, but never more than you love your fear.”
