Chapter 2
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Sydney Prince sat on the edge of her bed in her hotel room and stared down at her strappy stilettoes. She inhaled slowly as she admired the curve of her arch and her perfectly polished toes and some of the anxiety that was spiraling through her began to dissipate.
Shoes.
For better or worse, they were her therapy.
Ever since she was little she’d loved shoes. Heels in particular. But a nice slip-on flat, wedge sandal, or crisp, white sneaker were solid runners up.
It all started with the movie Cinderella. She must’ve been four or five the first time she’d seen it and she could vividly remember gasping when the princess ran down the stairs. Her reaction was not born out of fear that the heroine would not end up with the Prince, she couldn’t have cared less about that storyline. No, Sydney was horrified at the thought that Cinderella would leave without one of her glass slippers.
She was not the kind of girl to get carried away in romantic fantasies. She didn’t believe in happily-ever-after. She believed in making things as good as you could on any given day. She didn’t believe in soul-mates and being swept off of her feet. She believed in putting in the work that relationships took.
Sydney was a realist. She was practical, not emotional.
Which was why she’d always felt ridiculous for having such a shallow and materialistic vice, but not anymore. The older she got the less she felt the need to apologize for who she was. She didn’t do drugs, she rarely drank, and she’d dedicated her life to helping others. If owning pretty shoes was her thing, well, there were worse things.
Like flaking on your girlfriend of six years.
“You’re still in LA?” Sydney repeated as she held the phone to her ear and wished she was surprised.
“Yes. I had an emergency consult.”
Emergency consult?
Simon was a plastic surgeon, what kind of emergency consult could he have? A post-op emergency, sure, but a consult emergency…
Sounding more irritated than apologetic he offered, “I can probably be on the road by ten or eleven if you still want me to come.”
“Don’t bother.” Her curt tone was giving away much more than she wanted to reveal. Sydney had never been comfortable showing her emotions, especially when she was hurt. Trying to temper her response she said, “It would be too late. No reason to drive here when the whole thing will be over by then.”
Simon’s practice was in Los Angeles. Sunset Canyon was about thirty miles north of Santa Barbara. By the time he made it here it would be well into the wee hours of the morning.
She was sure that was the reason he’d offered. He knew that she would tell him not to come.
When she’d brought up her high school reunion six months ago, he’d insisted that she go and agreed to go with her. But things were still going well then. Back then, she thought they were not far from an engagement.
In the months that followed, things had grown strained. They’d make plans and he’d bail. Or he would show up and leave early with an excuse about being needed at the hospital.
In the six and a half years that they’d been together, he’d never been what she would describe as attentive. But even when he was just starting his practice he’d been less distracted than he was now. Something was definitely going on with him and as soon as she got home, she planned on getting to the bottom of things.
“Are you sure?” His tone was annoyingly condescending. “I don’t mind making the drive.”
You don’t mind making the drive?!
They were supposed to drive together. That had been the plan.
She was hurt, confused, and frustrated, but there was no way that she’d let him hear that in her voice. “It’s fine.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
Sydney heard the distinct sound of relief in Simon’s voice and despite wanting to call him on it, she remained silent. What was the point? It wouldn’t make any difference. In her experience, people did what they wanted to do.
“Well, have fun at the reunion. I’ll see you when you get home. ILY.”
Her shoulders tensed as the line went dead. She had come to hate Simon’s shorthand for I love you. When he’d first started using it, she’d thought it was cute. But she’d been twenty-two and they’d only been together a few months. At twenty-eight it had definitely lost its charm.
She stared at the phone in her hand as she contemplated whether or not she should just check out of the hotel and drive home. This night had not been what she’d expected and she hadn’t expected much.
As she straddled the to-leave-or-not-to-leave fence she started dialing the one person that she knew would tell her which side to land on.
The phone rang twice before her sister, Devon answered. “He didn’t show up, did he?”
“How did you know?”
“Because lately he’s been shady AF.”
Unlike the use of ILY Sydney had to smile at her sister’s initialism, she knew that her niece and nephew must be in ear-range. Devon swore like a sailor, but she’d been trying to rein it in since becoming a mom. Since the f-word had always been her go-to curse word, she’d implemented effin, AF, and fudge to replace her beloved exclamation. She also spelled out words, which worked now since the kids were one and three but since her nephew Pauly was starting to sound things out, those days were numbered.
Her sister continued, “When you told me he said he’d meet you there I knew that he was going to flake.”
“He said he had an emergency consult,” Sydney explained. She didn’t want to throw him under the bus simply because she was upset. Just because she didn’t believe his excuse, didn’t mean she shouldn’t give her sister the entire story.
“Yeah and I’m having tea with the queen,” her sister replied flatly.
“Right?” she was glad that she wasn’t the only one that thought he was lying.
“Right. So, forget Simon. You look hot. Wait…you are wearing the dress I picked out, right?”
Sydney looked down at the dress that her sister had insisted she wear. It was a form-fitting, black cocktail dress with a deep-V neckline that showed much more skin than she was used to displaying. It wasn’t short by any means, the hem hit her just below the knee. It was classy but not as conservative as she normally dressed.
She’d always felt invisible in high school. Correction: she’d been invisible. The girl that had never had a date to prom, or anywhere for that matter, and who blended into the background. Tonight, she was supposed to show up in a dress that turned heads. And bonus, she’d also have the male equivalent of arm candy in the form of her handsome, doctor boyfriend.
Her plan had almost worked. People had definitely noticed her. But there was no candy on her arm.
“Yes. I’m wearing it.”
“Good. Now go march your cute A-S-S into that reunion and have your Dirty Dancing moment.”
“My Dirty Dancing moment?”
“Yes. Everyone deserves to have their Dirty Dancing moment.”
She and Devon had been obsessed with that movie when they were kids. They must’ve watched it over a hundred times. When they were around eight and ten they’d even dressed up as Johnny and Baby for Halloween. Of course, Devon was Jennifer Grey’s Baby and she’d got stuck with Patrick Swayze’s Johnny.
“Are you talking nobody-puts-baby-in-a-corner or scared-of-walking-out-of-a-room-and-never-feeling-the-same-way moment?”
“Neither. I’m talking about the time-of-your-life, final-dance moment!”
“One problem, my Johnny is still in LA. Actually, two problems, he wouldn’t be able to lift me over his head.”
“Sacrilege!” Her sister gasped. “How dare you even think, much less speak, Johnny’s name in reference to him that is now dead to me.”
Sydney laughed. Her sister always made her feel better.
“Now go, Baby. Leave it to the dress, you’ll have a Johnny in no time.”
As much as she appreciated her sister’s advice, Sydney wasn’t a cheater. She was in a committed relationship.
With a man that just stood you up at your high school reunion, her inner voice reminded her.
“Relax,” Devon instructed at Sydney’s silence. “I’m just talking about dancing.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“No. I wasn’t,” she admitted. “But, speaking of dancing. I know exactly who your partner should be.”
“Who?” Sydney wasn’t sure why she was playing dumb. She knew full well who her sister was going to say.
“Marco Reyes.”
Her sister had always known about her crush on him, but even though she’d predicted hearing his name, Sydney’s pulse jumped at the sound of it. The last time she’d seen him was at graduation. The last time she’d seen anyone from Sunset Canyon was when she walked across the stage and accepted her diploma.
After that she’d flown out to visit her grandparents in Maine and from there left the country with the Peace Corps. Once she’d completed her service, she’d moved to Los Angeles. Though her hometown was only a few hour’s drive, she’d had no reason to visit. Devon and her husband lived in Long Beach with their two kids.
Her parents lived in London and it wasn’t as if she’d had a ton of friends here anyway. Acquaintances, yes, but she could keep up with them over social media.
The only person she had wanted to connect with tonight was Marco Reyes. She knew he lived in Hope Falls now and from what she’d heard around the reunion, he hadn’t kept in touch with that many people.
Her sister began listing all of Marco’s positives. “He’s sexy. He has that bad-boy-with-a-heart-of-gold thing goin’ on. And if I remember correctly, he can dance.”
“He can dance,” Sydney confirmed.
She’d only shared one dance with him, but it had been one of the most unforgettable dances of her life. It was on the roof of the hospital where she volunteered.
Closing her eyes, she was transported back to that night. The stars. His strong arms around her. His voice in her ear.
It was magical. Perfect. Until it wasn’t.
“He’s the perfect Johnny!”
Devon wasn’t going to get any arguments from her on that one.
“Have you see him yet?”
“No.” Just the thought of seeing him sent a sudden surge of nervousness pulsing through her. Forget butterflies, she had basketballs bouncing around in her stomach.
In one of her psychology courses she’d studied a theory that argued puppy love and crushes weren’t real. The reasoning behind the idea was that the feelings of a young adult are amplified by hormones and lack real-life distractions like bills, rent, and career. But as she’d grown up, real-life distractions hadn’t changed Sydney’s experience. What she’d felt for Marco was more powerful, more real, than anything she’d ever felt in her adult life.
Which, now that she considered it, was all kinds of pathetic.
Devon’s voice rose to be heard over the sound of her kids yelling in the background. “Is he coming?”
“I doubt it.” There was only about an hour left, if he was going to be there, she figured he would have made an appearance by now.
She took in a deep breath and looked back down at her shoes, the ones that she’d worn for an hour every day for the past week to break in.
As much as Sydney appreciated an amazing shoe, she didn’t so much love discomfort. She didn’t subscribe to the beauty-equals-pain philosophy and never had.
The first time she’d decided that shoes absolutely must be broken in was after her eighth-grade graduation. She’d barely been able to stand by the end of the ceremony because her parents had allowed her to wear heels for the first time. It had been miserable, and she’d promised herself that she’d never experience that again. So from that day on, she’d broken in all of her high heels.
That had been what she was in the process of doing when Marco had found her up on the roof of the hospital.
“Have you asked around about him?” Devon wasn’t dropping this. “It’s Sunset Canyon. I’m sure someone knows where he is.”
Sydney ran into his group of friends, but she hadn’t brought him up. She’d never understood why he’d wasted his time with those guys. She guessed sports had something to do with it. They all played football together and naturally a comradery would form. But they were such meatheads and Marco wasn’t.
“What about some of the football players he was always hanging out with? I know that Richie posted he was going tonight. Did you ask him?
“No.” She’d tried to keep her conversations with his friends as short as possible.
They’d all complimented her in equally uncomfortable ways. Maybe it should’ve made her feel good, but they were all so blown away by her appearance that it made her wonder what they thought she’d looked like in high school. Although, since their eyes seemed to be focused on her cleavage and not on her face, she had a feeling it wasn’t really about how she looked.
It was clear that no one knew she’d been walking around the hallowed halls of Crestview Academy with a D-cup and that she’d had that bra size since the sixth grade. Which was why she’d done her best to hide it. Early development had been something that had taken Sydney years to accept. She was well into adulthood before she felt comfortable enough in her body to wear anything slightly formfitting.
“I never understood why you two didn’t get together,” her sister lamented.
Avery Lincoln. That would be the easy answer. Marco and Avery dated on and off for years. But to be fair, Sydney didn’t believe that Avery was the reason nothing had ever happened with her and Marco. Especially since he dated nearly every other high school girl in Sunset Canyon during their off-times.
The truth was, he’d only ever seen her as a friend. It was that simple. She’d pined over him since their first day of sixth grade and he’d thought she was his buddy.
“We were friends,” she told her sister the same thing that she used to tell everyone else.
“Great! Be friends. Be friends that have the time of their lives!” Devon brought it home again before she shouted, “Don’t bite your brother!”
Sydney pulled the phone away from her ear as she heard a cry ring out. She wished more than anything that she was there with her sister tonight because God only knew where her husband was.
When Devon told Sydney she’d met the man she was going to marry and he played for the Long Beach Waves, she’d tried to keep an open mind and not stereotype him just because he was a professional baseball player and athletes had reputations. But unfortunately, Paulo proved that sometimes stereotypes were stereotypes for a reason.
“I gotta go,” her sister clipped before the line went dead.
When the screen lit up from the call ending, she noticed that she’d missed a text from Simon. She almost didn’t open it, because she was sure that it was an insincere apology, but she decided to put her pettiness aside and be mature instead.
She swiped the box and read the message. Then she re-read the message. Hey baby. My meeting out of town was cancelled. My night just freed up so there’s no need to rush. Make sure to bring a toothbrush. I love you.
Her brain was having a difficult time processing what it was seeing. It took her several moments to realize what was going on.
Simon was seeing another woman. One he called “baby” and said “I love you” to.
There was no other explanation.
Without thinking, she typed back, I think you sent this to the wrong person.
She took a beat, then added: We’re done.
She pressed send and the only sound in the room was her breath as she tried to catch it. A strange numbness spread from her head to her feet. Her eyes scanned the room and her mind raced as it tried to digest what had just occurred and how she felt about it.
Things had never been perfect in her relationship with Simon. They’d definitely spent more time in the valleys of love than they had at the peaks. She’d rationalized that by telling herself it was normal.
When she’d met the man that she’d spent half of her adult life with, things had started off hot. Sizzling hot. They hadn’t been able to get enough of each other. But things had fizzled out as quickly as they’d sparked.
What had begun as them tearing their clothes off of each other every time they were alone turned into nights spent binge-watching Netflix. She’d told herself that that was what relationships were. They were doing the mundane things in life. It had never even crossed her mind that he’d cheat on her, even if he weren’t satisfied.
Simon was a person that spoke his mind and didn’t apologize for it. She’d always assumed if he didn’t want to be with her anymore, he’d leave her. It would be that cut and dry. She’d never suspected him of seeing someone else because she didn’t think that’s how he was made.
Her phone rang and Simon’s face popped up on her screen. She considered ignoring it, but she realized that she was curious to find out what he’d have to say for himself.
“Hello.” She heard her own voice but it sounded like it was coming from outside of her body.
This entire thing was like an out of body experience.
“It’s not what…I don’t know what…I know you think…I didn’t mean…we haven’t been…you and I haven’t been…she’s just a friend.”
Ninety percent of the physicians, especially surgeons, that Sydney knew had a God complex. They never questioned themselves. Never apologized. Always believed that they were right. That they were all-knowing.
Simon was no exception. He was always in control. She’d never heard or seen him flustered. Even during his residency when he’d lost his first patient, he’d taken it in stride. He’d said that he was fine, that patients die sometimes.
It was as if it hadn’t even occurred to him to be upset, or to question whether or not he could’ve done anything differently.
Now, hearing him stuttering, unable to finish a thought, and fumbling over himself confirmed her worst fear. It made what she’d seen real and was the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.
“We’re done,” she spoke aloud the words that she’d texted. “Goodbye, Simon.”
She hung up the phone and was surprised at what she felt. It was relief. She felt lighter than she could remember feeling in a long time.
For the past few years she’d been wondering where her and Simon’s relationship was going. They talked about moving in together, even talked about getting married, but those conversations never went anywhere.
She still lived alone and there was no ring on her finger.
And now she was single.
At her ten-year high school reunion.
Maybe having a Dirty Dancing moment tonight wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.