“Anne tells me it’s your sister’s store,” she said, nodding to the window.
“It is,” he said, his tone flat.
“And that she’s decided to come on board as partner.”
He couldn’t help his wry smile as his eyes went back to the window. “Did she now?”
Bianca nodded. “I think the two of them have something really special here.”
“So do I,” he said.
Silence swallowed them up then. The sounds of the city were alive on the corner of Avenue A, but the heavy flakes dulled them. In that moment, it almost felt like the world had stopped, waiting for what would come next.
He turned slightly to look down at her. She was small like Anne, with the same blue eyes, but hers still had that hard edge he remembered from all those years ago.
“You never liked me very much, did you?” he asked.
“I never knew you, Frederick,” she replied.
“Right.” He nodded. “But that never stopped you from sharing your thoughts about our relationship, did it?”
A moment passed as she seemed to think about it, then she turned to meet his eyes. “Do you know how I met Anne’s father, Walter?”
Freddie didn’t reply. He was worried about what he might say, so he just turned back to the window.
“I was a junior at Barnard,” Bianca said, letting her gaze slide back to the shop window. “One night my friends and I went out downtown and I met this guy. He was a film student. Tall, so good-looking… he even played in a band. For a girl who grew up in Connecticut and was majoring in prelaw, he was like lightning in a bottle.” She paused for a moment, like she was pondering the memory. “I believed him when he said he would make documentaries that changed the world, so when I graduated and it was time to apply to law school, I chose to help him start his own production company instead. I didn’t even like production, but I did it because it was his dream, and I loved him.
“We got married. Had Anne. The company slowly changed. There was more money in television, so that’s what he focused on. We grew apart. And when the stress finally became too much, I left.”
Freddie’s jaw tightened. “Anne told me.”
“I’m sure she did. But she doesn’t know that I never dreamed of being a wife. Definitely not a mother. Before meeting Walt, all I wanted was to be a lawyer. But I gave that up for him, and I can never get it back.”
Freddie stilled.
“I’m sorry that I never made an effort to know you, Frederick,” Bianca said, turning to meet his gaze again. “Anne was desperately in love with you, so I should have. But when she told me about you, your plans and your dreams… it all sounded eerily similar. I knew how that story would end. And I didn’t want my daughter prioritizing your future over her own.”
“So you told her to break up with me?”
Bianca laughed, but it faded when she saw his grim expression. “Oh, I see. You never figured it out.”
“Figured what out?”
Bianca stared up at him as if she was seeing him from a different perspective. “She didn’t follow my advice to be selfish, Frederick. She broke up with you so you could be. She did it to make sure you went to Argentina, soyouwouldn’t have to compromise anything. And, from what I’ve heard, you should be thanking her for it.”
His brow knitted together as some old puzzle piece began to slide into place in his mind. “But what about Columbia?”
“I encouraged her to apply,” Bianca replied. “And I told her that if you really loved her, you would stay. But she made sure you never had to make that choice.”
He wanted to argue with her, dismantle what she was saying piece by piece. But just as quickly, he realized that he couldn’t. Because he would have stayed. He would have given up his position in the Buenos Aires program, missed out on every opportunity over the past eight years, if Anne hadn’t ended things. Anne had saved him from himself.
That truth landed like a lead weight in his gut.
Another moment passed, then Bianca turned to face him fully. “It wasn’t that I didn’t like you, Frederick. I just wanted what’s bestfor my daughter. And she only wanted what was best for you. So now the question is: What do you want?”
He let out a long breath. “Her.”
Bianca nodded. “Good. Then don’t fuck it up.”
