Now Or Never by Stella Rhys

22

HOLLAND

I didn’t havework clothes to change into, so I wound up going home from Iain’s on Sunday night.

Which was hard.

Because since the moment he’d surprised me at the bar to the moment he’d said bye to me last night—kissing me so deeply against the wall that the elevator had opened and closed and left without me—the weekend had felt like a whirlwind within a whirlwind. A dream within a dream that I needed at least another day to recover from. Just the thought of having to wake up in the morning and get on the subway to go to work made me whine to myself while alone in my apartment.

I wasn’t quite ready to return to reality.

But as if the universe had been looking out for me, the office was in party mode when I got in on Monday.

At least my department was, because apparently my boss, Freya, was transferring to the Minx headquarters in Milan in two weeks, which meant it was celebration time. Despite the fact that it was 9AM, the store design team snuck into the conference room where we secretly popped two bottles and drank to Freya while the copy, design and print departments continued working outside.

It was a fun and inspiring celebration full of long, sometimes emotional toasts, but once it all died down and everyone fell into individual chatter, I found the time to quietly swoon over Iain by revisiting the two-word text he sent me this morning.

Reheats well.

Accompanied by a picture of my French toast on his kitchen counter.

He had even topped it with some berries and the maple syrup I left with him, which made my heart flutter, because sure, he did staunchly refuse to see the merit in regular weekends and me time, but at least he was taking a moment from his morning to treat himself to my labor of love—which hopefully, felt like a bit of a sweet escape before he started his very busy day of work.

I was still smiling to myself as I reread the texts I sent back.

ME: Perfect way to start the morning! But bad news. I’ve decided that birthday toast doesn’t actually count as celebrating your birthday

ME:Mostly because I just thought of a great idea for your actual birthday this weekend (P.S you should take off this weekend)

It had been sent hours ago, before I even got into work.

He’d yet to text back, but I didn’t take offense since I knew the week he had ahead of him. He’d dubbed it “hell week,” and it apparently consisted of tons of meeting and fires to put out, thanks partly to some endorsement deal drama, but mostly to trade deadline drama. But there was also something about a “very important project” he’d been working toward for over a year now.

Basically, he was swamped. So swamped that we weren’t even scheduled to see each other again till Wednesday, which sucked, but I comforted myself by knowing that I could always sext him to ensure that he was beyond ready for our time together.

“Ugh. How cute is this one?” Freya asked the team, nudging me with her elbow before tossing back the last of her champagne. “She’s got a little fling going on with a boy,” she winked to the rest of the table, making me laugh to myself at the word “boy.”

And as everyone prodded me for details and offered their even steeper senior employee discount to buy some new lingerie—which I happily accepted—I found myself getting so swept up in the conversation that of course, my subconscious forced me to pump the brakes for a second.

Specifically with the memory of an odd moment last night.

I had tried to ignore it by telling myself I had no right to be upset, because I wasn’t dating Iain. As much as I’d consider it—okay, be totally into it—we had never even agreed to sleep with only each other.

A fun fact I conveniently forgot about till yesterday’s calls.

He’d ignored two in a row while we were in the kitchen before turning his phone face down, and though it struck me as odd, I’d told myself it was probably work. Though if work called twice in a row, it would probably indicate some kind of urgency, which we all know Iain Thorn would never ignore, I thought now, finally allowing myself to do what I wouldn’t yesterday, which was wonder about the name I’d caught on the screen.

Camila.

And I was wondering now about Iain too, of course, since I was starting to remember that there was still a lot left to wonder about him—namely what had caused him to just up and disappear five years ago.

For so long, it wasn’t my business.

It certainly felt like it was, but I couldn’t actually make that claim to anyone besides me and my broken teenaged heart. So I just swallowed it.

But after this particular weekend, I couldn’t anymore.

It felt different after this weekend. Like I had more of a right to wonder, which was why I was doing exactly that—wondering about him like I did at seventeen. Once again dying to know why he left so suddenly.

Camila, perhaps?

“Thinking about your boy?” Freya teased, nudging me briefly out of my haze.

I blinked then laughed. “Actually, no.” A girl, I thought as I joked to Freya that I was thinking about how big her new office would be. And for the next few minutes, we talked with such genuine interest about her promotion that I didn’t even realize half my mind had gone somewhere else entirely.

It wasn’t till our conversation ended that I finally realized, because I looked down to find myself hitting enter on my phone, and staring at the search results in my inbox.

Two emails.

From me. To Iain.

From five years ago. When he left.

Okay, Holland, I immediately warned myself. I mean I could understand how my mind had come here. But is this really the best idea? I questioned, mostly because there was a point as recent as my freshman year of college that I’d still memorized every embarrassing word I’d written to him. But after hard work and some much-needed growing up, I’d actually managed to forget them.

Till now.

Alright, fuck it.

With a gulp of good ol’ morning champagne, I grabbed my phone again, and with some half-assed justification about how these emails were good for balancing my feelings, I clicked on the first one.

And read with a half-wince on my face.

Hi Iain!

Happy New Year! Hope you had a Merry Christmas too. We definitely missed you here. Dad tried to make the cafezinho the way you do in hopes of making Mom rage less because she was so tired and stressed about hosting people. But he messed it up horribly and it tasted so bad I think it made her rage more lol.

Adam said you did Christmas at home in Scarsdale. I’ve never been to that part of New York but it looks really pretty! How was it? P.S Dad bought you and Adam those Burton snowboarding socks for Christmas and I wasn’t supposed to tell you but Adam took yours so you should definitely get them back from him ASAP!

Holland

Okay.

Not as bad as I remembered, I concluded. There was nothing particularly cringey about what seventeen-year-old me wrote, but as my heart gave a little twist, I realized that that wasn’t why I’d forced myself to forget the email.

It was more because I’d worked so hard to sound so breezy when in fact, I’d been embarrassingly devastated that Iain didn’t visit that Christmas. There’d been a time when he hadn’t visited before—just the year prior—but then, Adam had told us in advance. He and Iain had graduated Stanford Law and just started working at Engelman Sports in L.A. They were too swamped to come back for Thanksgiving or Christmas, which was rough, but at least I knew to expect it.

But this time, I hadn’t realized Iain wouldn’t be coming till Adam walked in alone completely nonchalant, as if he hadn’t spent the past five years coming back with Iain in tow. When Dad asked where Iain was, all Adam mumbled was, “Yeah, I dunno, I guess he went to his dad’s,” before hugging my grandma, ruffling my hair and going upstairs to his room.

I remembered exchanging a funny look with Dad, because we all knew how Iain felt about his dad.

But then it was never addressed beyond that.

At least not to me.

Dad had looked upset, even disturbed as he went upstairs to have a conversation with Adam. But I already knew then I’d never know the details of it, because I was a kid and I was left out of that kind of stuff.

God, I thought, grimacing over the fact that I’d been so hurt, and I hadn’t even known at the time that Iain would never visit my house again.

Alright, Holland, that’s enough. Stop doing this, I told myself firmly, but it was in vain because with a quick click I was onto the next email I’d sent him all those years back.

Hey! Guess you actually moved to Manhattan. So you actually live closer to us than Adam does now and Dad and I both agree you’re more welcome in our home than he is, so please feel free to visit whenever even if he’s not with you. We mean it!

P.S they talked about you on SportsCenter! Congrats on the new client!! I’ll go out and buy a Drew Maddox jersey STAT.

Oof.

Okay. That one hurt.

“Hey. You okay, love?” Freya touched my shoulder as I suddenly put down my phone. She studied me. “Oh, honey. You look like a girl who had champagne first thing in the morning instead of breakfast.”

I laughed at her teasing, putting a hand to my stomach though the discomfort was in my chest. “Yeah, I think I might need to grab something to eat.”

“Go, go! Take a fifteen. Go outside. Grab some fresh air.”

I nodded, and with the rest of the team cooing at me like I was a little baby, I headed out of the conference room to take the elevator downstairs.

Well. You did this to yourself, I reasoned as I crossed the lobby of our building and went outside, with no particular destination in mind besides a place where I didn’t feel mentally like crap.

So this right here, I reminded myself as I walked up Fifth Avenue, is the danger of opening up your crush on Iain Thorn again.

He was easily one of the most complicated places in my brain to revisit.

Mostly because I had been so teenaged-in love with him back in the day, and as much as I wanted to believe I’d grown up since then—as much as I knew I very much had—I was still kind of Team Teen Holland in regards to the way Iain just poof and disappeared without saying goodbye.

No, he didn’t owe me anything, and no, we weren’t technically friends.

But still.

He could’ve emailed back a single line, or even passed a message along through Adam.

But he never did, and while I’d let go of my need to understand why years ago, that need had definitely just clawed its way back to the forefront of my mind.

Partly because of Camila.

Partly because of the emails.

But mostly because I knew that there was an expiration date to our arrangement, and despite the fact that I’d been telling myself I had everything completely under control, I did have feelings for Iain.

And not just dreamy, teenaged ones this time.

Real ones.

I didn’t want to, but I could finally admit it to myself, and just as I did, I felt my phone buzz in my hand.

IAIN: I shouldn’t take two days off when it’s this busy

Paused on the sidewalk, I stared.

Mostly at the word shouldn’t, because I’d learned that with me, Iain sometimes interchanged the words should and would.

So biting my lip, I fired off a simple three words.

ME:But would you?

I waited awhile for him to respond, and in that time, I told myself to just relax.

But once I was back at the office, sitting among my tipsy team at our desks, I finally got his one-word reply, and though I wanted nothing more than to dial back my heart at least a bit, it sent me right back over the moon.

IAIN:Yes