Gemma woke up the next morning at the ungodly hour of 3:00 AM by the antique alarm clock Peter bought her on a whim while they visited Berkeley. She rolled over to find the other side of the bed already abandoned and the shadow of her fiancé randomly blocking out the light glowing from the slit at the bottom of the bathroom door. This morning Gemma had to drop Peter off at the airport for his almost five-week trip to DC. It was for work, she knew, but still…Gemma sighed and let her head fall back into the goose feathers of her pillow. Another month with Peter across the country. Was this going to be her life? Half a year sleeping in an empty bed, living in empty apartment? With an empty heart? Her mind whispered quickly, before she had time to censor her thoughts. Peter was a good man. He was. He was kind to her, he was honest, such a hard worker, and her parents loved him. But when he would come through the front door after a long day of work she felt no spark of excitement, no rush of desire, only the instinct to take his coat and ask him how work was. Gemma ignored the roll of panic and pressed the ends of her pillow tight to her ears, hoping, praying that it might help keep her thoughts at bay.

By the time Gemma had finished dropping off Peter at the airport and was on her way back home the sun had just begun to rise, burning away the morning fog. Without any conscious thought, Gemma drove, following her instinct from empty road to empty road, and eventually found herself in the parking lot of a local grocery store.

Gemma slipped her sunglasses onto her nose as she exited her car. The admittance that she was paranoid that Justin might be in the store was not on her agenda, but if she was honest, he did have something to do with the fact that she chose to keep her sunglasses on as she entered the store. She saw him one time, and all of a sudden she expected to see him everywhere. Kicking herself inwardly for not asking him where he was staying, Gemma grabbed a cart and began her grocery shopping.

Somewhere between the bakery and the dairy section Gemma realized in the shock of seeing Justin again she hadn’t given a thought as to why he was back again. Not a real, logically processed thought, anyway. Gemma reached for an Italian baguette and decided that she really had no idea why Justin was back, and that concerned her. Gemma remembered how she ran from him as soon as he turned in her direction and grumbled to herself softly.

“Apparently he makes you act like an idiot, too.” She murmured with a roll of her eyes.

Sure, it was possible that Justin could have come back to win her heart again, or he could be in California simply for business. What scared her the most though, was the unnatural rush of adrenaline she felt at the thought of him coming back for her. Was that really the way an engaged woman should behave? No. Gemma thought, guilt weighing heavy in her stomach.

She scoffed, disgusted at her own behavior, Peter was probably still on the tarmac and she was already pondering a life with Justin.

Throughout the past five years, Gemma could admit that she thought about him occasionally and may have Googled his name a few times out of curiosity. What she found told her he was a freelance photographer based in New York with quite the numerous and prominent clientele. The first time she found his website and a slideshow of his pictures graced the screen of her laptop it had been a little over a year since he disappeared. Gemma remembered the way her heart leapt as she clicked through his site and stumbled upon the two nine-digit numbers highlighted on his contact information page. After he left, within three days his number had been changed and Gemma had no way of contacting him, despite her best efforts to coerce Trace into giving it to her. His business phone and his cell were listed, for anyone. Anyone except her, she thought. It took everything in her to not instantly jump to the first phone she could find and call him. But what good would that do? Gemma didn’t change her number. If he wanted, Justin could have called her. He could have called her at any time. She had been waiting for his call. And that was all it took to quell her desire to call him again: the fear of change and the knowledge that he had her number and chose not to call.

She must have been on autopilot, because by the time Gemma finished guessing reasons why Justin was in town she found herself at the checkout, handing her debit card to the sales clerk and helping the bag boy with her groceries.

The drive back to her and Peter’s apartment was lonely. The roads were still deserted – it was only seven o’clock on a Sunday morning after all– and even the radio refused to play anything but depressing song after depressing song. When she finally made it back home she said a quick hello to the doorman and made a beeline for the elevator, groceries in hand. 

---

Gemma woke up five hours later to find Holly standing over her with a large paper bag from their favorite Thai restaurant and a happy grin painted on her face.

“Morning, Gemma!” She greeted with a laugh, “Or maybe good afternoon. I hope you don’t mind I let myself in…I can’t believe you didn’t hear me, I rang the bell like five times.” Holly threw her keys on one of the side tables.

Gemma sat up from where she had passed out on the couch and flipped the muted T.V. off.

 “Yeah, sorry,” She yawned, “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

Holly walked into the kitchen, still watching her sister as she searched for bowls in the cupboards. “No prob. You hungry for lunch?”

With a yawn Gemma stood up and met Holly in the kitchen, grabbing the bowls and take out bag to the square glass dining room table.

“I am so glad you brought lunch, Holly, I’m starving!”

Holly smiled as she plopped down at the table, reaching for one of the Styrofoam containers keeping the soup warm and pouring it into her bowl.

“Not a problem,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been craving Thai for days.”

“Mmm.” Gemma answered in agreement from the kitchen where she was grabbing napkins for the two of them. 

“So.” Holly started as Gemma returned, handing Holly a napkin before laying hers across her lap.

“So.” Gemma repeated and took the first taste of her soup.

“I have some great news!” Holly paused but before Gemma can ask what the news was Holly explained, “I think I found you a photographer for the wedding!”

Gemma gave her sister a smile, ignoring the butterflies that always seem to find their way to her stomach at the mention of her wedding. “Really? That’s wonderful! Where did you find them?”

“Well,” Holly began. “Remember that man I was talking to last night at the party before you ran off to who knows where?” She waved her hands in the air for emphasis. “Where did you go that night, anyway?”

Gemma’s right hand held onto her soupspoon like a life raft, praying that Holly wouldn’t notice the sudden loss of color in her face. Keep calm, Gem, she thought, Justin wouldn’t agree to take your wedding photos. That’d be ridiculous.

“Well his name’s Justin Timberlake and he was actually there to take photos for the newspaper. I asked him if he would be willing to show you his portfolio and discuss wedding photos!” Holly exclaimed.

Realizing her hand was shaking so much soup from her spoon was splashing onto the table Gemma let it fall back into the bowl as if it burnt her. Keep calm, Gem! “And what did he say?” Gemma asked, twisting her engagement ring around her finger.

Holly beamed. “I called him today and he’ll be over around five tonight!” Holly gave an excited squeal and Gemma somehow managed to choke on her spit.

"Oh," Gemma coughed as she nodded her head furiously, forcing the fear of seeing Justin again deep into her chest.

“But isn’t it great?” Holly questioned with a pout as she handed Gemma an extra napkin, a look of mild disgust crossing her features. “You don’t seem as excited as I thought you’d be.”

Whether it was natural talent or a strategy that she used when attempting to get her way, whenever something happened that wasn’t in Holly’s favor, she pouted. Full on pouted. She would furrow her brow, bat her big brown eyes, and actually stick her bottom lip out. Somehow, Holly always managed melt the soul of whoever was her target to get her way with that one simple look, and Gemma was no exception.

“No,” Gemma assured. “No, Hol, I’m totally excited! It was just a long night for me, and I had to take Peter to the airport really early this morning. But I’m so excited, Holly!” Gemma made a face somewhere between a smile and a grimace.

Holly grinned, her sister’s lack of enthusiasm suddenly forgotten. “Oh, I see. You had a long night, huh? You guys finally out of that dry spell?”

“Oh my god, Holly, quit it!” Gemma exclaimed while her cheeks tinted pink. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Holly laughed, undeterred. “Okay, Gem, whatever you say.”

With a clear of her throat and a quick run of her fingers through her hair, Gemma looked down at the table. “So, did you even see any of Justin’s photos?” She asked nonchalantly.

Holly stared at her sister for a few seconds while she stirred her soup absentmindedly. As a rule, Holly considered Gemma to be quite a proper person. She never gossiped unless prompted by Holly, she spoke clearly (but never yelled), she never laughed too loudly in public, and always addressed those whom she wasn’t on an intimate basis with by their last name. So when Gemma spoke of Justin like she had known him all her life it threw Holly for a bit of a loop. However, she chose to ignore it this time.

“Not really,” Holly gave a guilty smile. “But I saw him taking pictures last night and he seemed like he knew what he was doing, and that’s what this meeting is for anyway. I would think the pictures were fabulous, but if you don’t like them there’s no point. Plus, even if his pictures totally blow we both would get to at least talk to that hot piece of man one more time."

"I'm engaged, Holly." Gemma answered dryly, bringing her left hand at eye level to wiggle her fingers in Holly’s direction. All the while trying to get the image of Justin and Holly out of her mind and berating herself for the slow flush of jealousy that burnt in her chest like an ember, the ache coming in rhythm with her thudding heart.

"Yeah, I know." Holly rolled her eyes. "But that doesn't mean you can't look." She said in a singsong voice.

"So you're going to be here with me tonight, then, Holly.” Gemma said, taking solace in the fact she wouldn’t be alone with Justin tonight after all.

Holly was sipping her water through her straw when she shook her head no. "I can't, sorry Gems, I have a date!" She stood from the table, tossing her napkin and leaving her bowl where it sat.

Gamma sighed and threw both napkins into Holly’s soup bowl, assuming she was finished and stood to wash her dishes.

"That's really why I came over in the first place." Holly continued. "Can I borrow your silver Louboutins?"

At the sink, Gemma rolled her eyes, knowing that Holly was already in her closet pulling out the heels. She hadn't even worn those shoes yet, but with Holly it was impossible to say no. She appeared in the kitchen doorway, heels dangling on her fingers and Gemma gave a sigh and nodded her head in acquiescence.

"Thanks a bunch sis!" Holly turned back to the table. "Where did my soup go?"

Gemma held up the bowl, still sudsy in the sink. "I thought you were finished." She apologized.

"Gemma…" Holly wined. "I had like five bites."

With a sigh Gemma waved a gloved hand in the direction of her unfinished soup."You can have mine, Holly. I'm not that hungry, anyway."

Holly frowned. "I thought you said you were starving earlier."

"I've lost my appetite. Really Holly, you can have it." Gemma explained.

"Is this about the shoes?” Holly asked, still standing in the doorway.

Gemma shook her head, her eyes never leaving the soup bowl in the sink.

“If you don't want me to wear them I don't have to, I'm sure I have another pair that matches my outfit. It’s just..." Holly paused for dramatic effect. "These go so perfectly with that vintage Valentino I picked up last weekend.”

"It’s not about the shoes, really. Borrow the shoes, eat my soup, it’s not a big deal." Gemma became increasingly bitter with each word that left her lips.

Holly shrugged and went to the table, accepting her sister’s offer without another word.

"No big deal." Gemma mumbled, her voice hidden under the running water of the kitchen sink. "Soup, shoes, ex-boyfriend. Have them all, I don't care."

And she didn't. Gemma told herself over and over again she didn't care about any of it. Not about the shoes, even though she just bought them two days ago, hadn't worn them yet, and probably wouldn’t get them back for a month. Not about the soup, even though her stomach was rumbling furiously in disagreement, and the smell of soup coming from the dining room table was making her mouth water. And definitely not about Justin, with his stupid new curly hairstyle and crooked smile, even though just the thought of Holly and Justin holding hands made Gemma’s stomach roll with nausea and her heart ache with a feeling her brain chose to leave undefined.

Holly came back into the kitchen to find Gemma standing in front of the sink staring blankly out the large apartment windows. She placed the empty soup bowl on the counter and put a hand on Gemma's shoulder.

"I've got to go get ready, Gemma. Thanks for the soup. And the shoes. Don't forget Justin is coming over at 5 o'clock sharp."

Gemma gave Holly a tight smile and walked her to the door, rubber gloves still encasing her hands and forearms. "Five o'clock, got it. Have a good time Holly, don't go to crazy okay?"

Holly smiled the way younger sisters always learn to do to appease their older siblings and with a swish of her auburn hair she was down the hall and in the elevator.

As the lock clicked shut Gemma breathed a sigh of relief, pressed her back against the cold wood of her front door, and surveyed her apartment. Her apartment that Justin would be standing in within – she glanced at the wall clock – three hours. The apartment was a mess, the deep green fleece blanket Gemma used this afternoon still lay crumpled on the living room carpet beneath the large brown leather sectional. A stale, half finished mug of coffee sat on the dark wood coffee table next to the stack of cushions she took off the couch for more room. Clean dishes waited to be put away in the kitchen, the empty soup bowl and take out garbage still resting on the dining room table. She had lived in this apartment for little over a year, but it still seemed like it only belonged to a man. The couches in the living room were brown leather with gold metal detailing, the kitchen was minimalistic and cold, all stainless steel appliances and black granite. The walls were painted neutral colors, matching the carpet and couches, no paintings or photographs adorned the walls, except for one, which stood on the long table situated behind the couch. It was a black and white photo of Gemma and Peter taken at her parent’s house last Christmas Eve.  That one picture was the only thing that madeGemma feelshe had made her mark in the space. Yet, despite the apartment’s lack of femininity, there was a certain warmth to it that Gemma loved.

Most of her things, when she moved in with Peter, were sold or left with Holly since they had shared an apartment prior to Gemma’s move. There were some things, however, that she couldn’t part with and those were kept in their spare bedroom. Gemma pulled the rubber gloves from her fingertips, leaving them on the back of the living room couch before opening the spare room door gently, making sure not to crush any of the blank canvases behind the door. This was her space. This was her sanctuary. Finished paintings stood leaning against each other in the corner, a paint splattered white sheet thrown over them casually. Paintbrushes and bottles were scattered across the large dresser that made it through the move from Gemma’s apartment as well. Shutting the door behind her, she made her way towards the sheet covered easel. Carefully, she pulled the dusty sheet from the unfinished painting that hadn’t been touched since she moved in.

Gemma traced the line of mountains in the background, long since dried with her index finger. “What am I supposed to do with you?” She asked wistfully.

She pulled a white wooden stool out from behind the easel and sat in front of the canvas, her chin falling into her palm on instinct. Gemma refused to move and time ticked by. After thirty minutes of silence, and still no inspiration, she released a breath and threw the sheet back over the easel.

Gemma shouldn’t be surprised, really. Why in the world would she suddenly be struck with inspiration, now of all times? Why would her brain finally decide what it wanted to paint when Justin came back?

She gave a cold laugh and shut the spare room door firmly behind her.

Sometimes, Gemma could almost completely forget how she and Justin met, but the moment she stepped into her painting room it all rushed back. Trace had introduced them her freshman year of college. Trace was a senior, taking what was supposed to be an easy class– Painting I for non-art majors - however, he found out the hard way that their professor was determined to make the class anything but an easy A. Trace took one peek at Gemma’s painting and knew it was time for him to introduce himself and pray that she would be willing to help him. Gemma was happy to help, and as the quarter wore on they became easy friends. One night at Trace’s apartment, they were studying a particularly difficult tutorial on oil painting when Justin walked in. Trace introduced the two, one thing lead to another, and over time, their relationship evolved from casual friends to more.

Gemma shoved the memories aside, grabbed the rubber gloves off the couch, and checked the clock again. She had two hours to clean the apartment up, and she needed to start now.

----

Justin was greeted in the front of the building, at the address Holly had given him last night, by a doorman who directed him to the elevators with a smile and a gesture of his arm. The steady lift of the elevator did nothing to calm Justin’s sudden and overwhelming nerves. Grasping his black portfolio tightly in one arm he watched the different numbers light up as the elevator passed each floor before stopping with a ding on twenty-five. After stepping out and walking down the hall, Justin curled his fist to knock on one of the two doors on this floor, telling himself that he hadn’t confused the numbers and this was the right apartment. Before his knuckles hit the wood, however, the door flew open.

Gemma stood in the open doorway shoeless, a half clipped bouquet of yellow tulips in her arms, and clothed in the cutest sundress Justin had ever seen. Her lips were parted in what he assumed to be surprise and immediately Justin feared Holly never told Gemma he was coming over. A billion scenarios ran through his mind, he was sure she thought he was a crazy stalker, now. No one shows up at your new doorstep after so long without speaking except crazy stalkers. He even considered just turning around and walking back to the elevator, hoping she would assume it was just wishful thinking--despite the fact that the elevator was a mere ten feet away. He knew it was a total asshole move to assume she would be thinking about him at all, anyway, let alone wishfully. But before Justin was able to make his getaway Gemma cleared her throat and spoke.

“Um, hi. Sorry if I scared you, I just heard the elevator open, well, I can always hear the elevator open, but I looked at the time and it’s exactly five o’clock so I just figured it would be you.” Gemma rambled, shifting the tulips in her arm as she pulled the door open wider and pressed her hip against it. “Come on in.”

Justin took a final breath of the neutral hallway air and stepped into the apartment Gemma shared with her fiancé. It was hard for Justin not to feel like he was intruding on something incredibly personal and half of him expected some sort of alarm to go off blaring the fact that he is an ex-boyfriend for all to hear. It’s just another job, seemed to be becoming a mantra as he repeated it over and over in his head while sliding his shoes off his feet and following Gemma to the dining room table.

“Go ahead and have a seat,” Gemma said, pulling out a chair with her free hand, “I’ve just got to finish these flowers and I’ll be all yours.”

Gemma winced at her word choice and quickly made her escape to the kitchen before Justin could answer. She’ll be all his? Could there be any phrase more inappropriate? As quick as she could, Gemma finished trimming the tulip stems, placed them in a small rectangular glass vase and sat them in the center of the dining room table, bringing some much needed color to the room.

Justin’s mouth went dry as Gemma leaned forward over the table to set the tulips down, exposing a generous portion of her breastbone and a tiny peak of the white lace bra she was wearing. Justin had been with other women throughout the past five years, it would have been absurd not to be, but he always found there was something remarkable about returning to the familiar after a long time without it, and Gemma was definitely familiar. Five years had passed, but he found she still moved the same, still loved tulips, and was still completely unaware of her ability to draw the male eye, and that above all, induced the unmistakable pull of desire in the pit of his stomach.

She sat down across from him, her back ridged and her eyes locked on her hands clasped together on top of the table – she was waiting.

Justin cleared his throat. “Are we waiting for anyone else, or…” He trailed off with a glance to Gemma.

“Oh! Oh, no. Peter’s away right now.” She said, “He has a very busy work schedule.” Gemma added in justification.

Justin gave a placating smile. “Well let’s hope he makes it to the wedding.” He joked.

Gemma blanched at his nerve. Peter was busy! Peter was working! She was positive if Peter knew she was picking out wedding photographers right now he would be very sorry he missed it. After all, it was Holly’s idea to schedule the meeting with Justin now, anyway. How dare he insinuate that her fiancé was avoiding planning for their wedding! But before she could respond to his uncalled for and ill-suited comment he continued.

“So I brought my portfolio with me, I assume you haven’t seen any of my work…” He reached below the table and lifted the large black, leather bound binder from the floor and handed it to Gemma. “These are some of the older weddings I’ve shot. There are photos of the more recent ones on my website, if you’re interested.”

Gemma ripped the book open a little roughly and took mild pleasure in the reaction it caused in Justin. With each harsh turn of a page he leaned forward just slightly in defense of his work. Once, after a particularly quick flip of a page she saw him almost reach forward and tear the book out of her fingertips. Gemma barely succeeded in muffling her giggle. Regardless of her current annoyance with Justin, the pictures inside were beautiful, though she hadn’t expected any less. She had seen his work before, but she wasn’t going to admit to that, especially after what he said. Yes, Gemma found his instinct to protect his photography incredibly amusing, however, once again, she struggled to balance the thrill of being in such close proximity to Justin and the guilt that twisted in her stomach with each adrenaline fueled heartbeat. It was like every memory with even just his name in it was scorched into her memory; every word, every touch, every laugh. If Justin was in it, it would never be forgotten, and now, with him so very near and so very much the same, Gemma battled to focus on the present.

“These are very good.” Gemma acknowledged begrudgingly with a final shut of the portfolio and slid it back to Justin across the table. It was the gentlest movement she had made since touching his work.

Justin quickly retrieved his portfolio and put it back under his chair. “Thank you.” He responded in surprise. When it seemed Gemma would not be replying with a ‘you’re welcome’ Justin continued.

“Umm,” he began awkwardly. “Are you at all interested in working with me for your wedding?”

Did she want him to shoot her wedding? She wasn’t sure. In the last two months, she had met with probably a dozen different photographers, each one as mediocre as the next, and after the disaster that was her and Peter’s engagement photos, they really needed someone good for the wedding. Justin’s photos were…amazing. She could see why he had gotten so well known, but she hadn’t expected anything less from him. From the beginning she knew he was special. Gemma considered what she would have done if Justin’s portfolio belonged to another person, would she still be mulling over the complications of hiring him? No.

“I’ll have to talk it over with my fiancé, but I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.” Gemma said. “I’ll have Holly give you a call in a few days with a definite answer, but I’m sure there won’t be a problem.”

“You don’t have any questions about pricing or anything?” Justin asked incredulously.

Gemma shrugged, “We should probably talk about that next time, just in case Peter has any questions that I might not. But there shouldn’t be any issue with pricing.” She added with a tight smile.

Of course not. Justin thought, chiding himself for asking such a stupid question.

Gemma stood from her chair and waited until Justin did the same after gathering his things. They walked to the door in silence and with a nod of his head and a quick shake of her hand Justin was out the door.

He took the four steps to the elevator and pressed the button, willing it to open immediately. He should be glad, right? Justin knew what Gemma meant when she said that there shouldn’t be a pricing issue. She meant money wasn’t an object. And he should be happy, right? His first wedding on the west coast, a notable couple that were sure to share who took their wedding photos with their equally influential friends…This should have been the best scenario imaginable. But as the elevator dinged and the black metal doors opened to reveal the cherry wood paneling Justin felt more like he had just been sentenced to hell.