Love Abstract (The Art of Falling Book 2) (27 page)

“Listen, you’re a diamond in the rough, Ivy. Sure, you may be crystal clear, unbreakable, strong and even precious. But diamonds are capable of cutting anything in their way. He’s just a boy. And at their very core, boys are kind of dumb. I don’t want you to do any permanent damage because you and I both know deep down that he is the best possible man for you. I don't want you to break him beyond all belief. Because if you break him, you're going to break yourself.”

“Rachel he isn't—”

“No, he
is
. And it’s time for you to stop trying to convince yourself otherwise. Sure he fucked up. But newsflash, Ivy, love doesn't keep a running tally of your fuck ups. Besides, you’ve made mistakes in the past, too. You’ve just never stuck around long enough for anyone to forgive you. I really think you need to put your pride aside and at the very least hear him out. You don’t have to forgive him. But you do need to allow yourself the opportunity to be
open
to forgiving him. Even if things don't work out between you two, doing that will at least give you the closure you need to move on. Otherwise, he's going to be taking up indefinite residence in your head, and more importantly your heart, until you go crazy or die trying to move past him.”

Shit. She's right.

If I continue to push him away, I'll always wonder. I'll always hang onto the hurt and allow that to spoil all of the good that once was. I walk into the kitchen and pull open the junk drawer. I take out my favorite photo of us that, as of a few days ago, was hanging on the world's worst refrigerator. I trace my fingers over his face and my heart jumps with mixed emotions.

“I’ll think about it,” I whisper.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. Call me soon.”

We say our goodbyes and her voice wraps me in a hug powerful enough to cross half of the country.

RACHEL’S SUGGESTION HAUNTS ME LONG into the evening. The simple truth of the matter is this ordeal consuming my mind and will continue to do so until I do something about it. I can either hold onto the anger and the rage or I can chip away at it piece by piece.

I grab my phone and scroll through the contact list mindlessly before pushing the call through.

Just as I’m about to hang up after the fourth ring, the line connects.

“Ivy? Is that you? Is everything okay?” The voice is as surprised to hear from me as I am that I actually dialed the number.

“Hey Gen. Yeah ... I’m okay.” Before I can even consider facing Phoenix again, I need to start a little closer to home. Admittedly, it’s kind of nice to hear her voice as much as I hate what happened.

“I’ve been actually meaning to call you ... well, Phoenix rather. Can I talk to him for a quick second? My pulse quickens and my stomach instantly knots at her request. What the hell does she want to talk to him about?

“Uh, he’s not here,” I mumble, trying to reign in the tears and keep my imagination from running rampant at the thought of the two of them together. “He’s out of town. Visiting his dad for a few days.” It’s not a lie, but I’m not in the mood to tell her the truth about my current relationship status.

“Okay… Well, when you see him next would you tell Phoenix I said thanks?

Huh? Thanks?

“What for?”

“He went on record and detailed the times he witnessed CJ’s
improper
behavior. Let’s just say that with the charges coming against him he is going to be the state’s problem for a quite a while. Phoenix’s statement was the missing piece needed to up his charge count.”

I had no idea. When did he even find time to do that?

“Oh ...” My voice trails off and I start to feel a bit of relief. “Sure ... No problem, Gen.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound okay. Is something going on?” She actually sounds concerned ... sisterly.

I’m not entirely sure how to respond. I hadn’t planned on what to say if she actually picked up.

“I ... No. I’m not okay actually. But I will be.” I sigh, hoping that’s the truth. “Look ... the reason I called was to say I’m sorry for being a raging bitch to you. And that I genuinely forgive you for what had happened.” I imagine she thinks my forgiveness is for the drama that happened with her fiancé and my overall bitchtastic attitude toward her. I have no idea if she even realizes she slept with Phoenix all those years ago, but given her history I doubt it.

I chew the inside of my cheek, debating whether or not I should even bring it up in conversation, but decide against it. If she remembers having sex, it’ll only crush me knowing that she lied and kept it a secret, just like Phoenix. And if she doesn’t remember, it will only confuse her and potentially make things significantly worse. I’m not sure I want to deal with either of those scenarios playing out. I’m better off letting her make of it what she will. I’ve resented her for long enough. And I need to learn to let go of that bitterness. I know just doesn’t magically disappear overnight, but I know that this is a small step in the right direction.

Sure, Genevieve may not deserve my forgiveness for everything she’s done to me over the past two decades. But I deserve the peace that comes with letting it go. I am worthy of that.

“Thank you for accepting my apology. But for what it’s worth, when I had left Rachel’s apartment that night I had already forgiven you. You don’t need to hear someone’s apology to forgive them in your heart.” When the hell did she get so wise? I’m not sure truer words have ever been spoken.

We sit on the line in silence, her words about forgiveness replaying in my mind over and over again. I’m not sure that I could forgive Phoenix so easily, if at all. He lied directly to my face and on more than one occasion. When my blood starts to boil at the memory of his lies, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“Ivy?”

“Yeah, Gen?” I take a deep, sleepy breath and run my fingers through the fringe on the throw blanket on the couch.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” And this time I actually mean it.

MY STOMACH TWISTS IN KNOTS and I can't focus on anything other than the phone ringing on my desk. It's my boss. Even though he approved it, he's pissed that I'm leaving for St. Louis in the morning with such short notice. He needs to chill the fuck out. I'm ahead of schedule at work since I've been spending upwards of fifteen hours a day here. He can't expect the best work out of me when I want to be giving my best to someone else.

I know Ivy has my letter. I missed her this morning by only a few minutes. After I’d dropped the paper crane off with Farrah, I crossed the street to hail a cab to head to the office. Just as one pulled up to the curb, I saw her walk through the front door.

She looked beautifully pained. I can only image how much she's hurting. How horribly I've hurt her. I kind of hate myself.

Part of me is relieved that she wasn't there. No doubt I would have been on my knees in front of her begging for her forgiveness ... her understanding. Though if the tables were turned, I'm not sure I'd have it in me to be that compassionate.

Farrah was a little surprised to see me, but she swore that she would make sure Ivy got the paper crane. When I asked Farrah how Ivy had been doing, she simply gave me the look of
are you really fucking asking me this right now?

Sigh.
Yes, I know better.

With any luck, Ivy will reach out this afternoon. I have to make it up to her. I need her to hear me out. But she needs to be willing to let me in again. And I'm not certain I've earned that right.

The minute hand is quickly approaching the top of the hour as the short hand points to three. It's been over six hours. Six long hours and nothing. If this crushing silence is her answer, I'm not sure I'm ready to know just yet. Because I'm not sure I could live without her in my life. And I'm certainly not ready to accept a life without her.

Ivy is unlike any other woman I’ve ever known. I never imagined that I could be with someone like her. She is the abstract painting in my life. Even though I know I will never fully understand it, I am instantly drawn to its beauty, complexity and hidden meaning.

A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.

“Are you sure you're okay, Phoenix?” my boss asks as he pops his head into my small office. He knows something is up. I work hard, but he can tell I'm distracted. I've been here late every night the past week but producing less work than I did before our fall out.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He comes inside and leans against the corner of my desk. “When do you leave?”

“My flight takes off first thing in the morning.” But with Ivy's radio silence part of me is tempted to change my flight to tonight.

I hold out hope that she'll call me when she gets off work tonight.

But I don't hold my breath.

I’M THANKFUL TO BE BACK at work the next day, even though it’s a struggle to keep my eyes open.

I’m sitting on the ground between two sculptures, and looking around the gallery, I’m really proud of how well this is coming together. To the untrained eye, it’s just junk. To my left, chunks of metal welded together with colorful tiles glued in place. But Brock tells me that when we turn the lights down and the spotlights on, we’ll be treated to an incredible shadow of the Chrysler building on the wall behind me. To my right, the antique brooms that are fashioned together will show a family of evergreen trees. I’m looking forward to finally getting the electrician in to help affix the lighting so I can experience the shadows come to life.

It’s truly amazing how nothing is what it seems with this installation.

We’ve got our hands full the next few days getting the rest of the pieces set and lights adjusted before the press preview on Friday night. I jot down a few reminders of things I need to finalize before the show officially opens.

“You’re normally not this chipper in the morning.” Brock drops his tattered messenger bag on the floor by the door and comes and sits down next to me.

I don’t even fight the urge to scowl at him. I thought a mental health day would help, but after I hung up with Rachel all I did was sit on my couch in Phoenix’s old shirt eating ice cream out of the carton. By the time I realized it was almost midnight, I’d cried until my eyes were swollen shut. Apparently being in my own miserable company was a terrible idea.