The Way to Never

By O. E. Boroni

“When falling out of love, refuses to become an option...”

Nathan Roque first met Lenora Baker, a beautiful, exasperating, and bitter girl when she was just fifteen years old. He fell so deeply in love with her that he suspected that in his lifetime, nothing else could ever mirror the kind of commitment that she drew out of him. But she is left heartbroken when an unfortunate incident drives them apart.

Thirteen years later, he sets out to reach out to her when he can no longer resist the consuming thoughts of her that have haunted him for so long. However, the same demons that caused him to let go of her in the first place are still holding him back. But when he is thrust into a situation where he has no choice but to become professionally involved with her, a Pandora’s Box of angst, resentment, and passion is unleashed.

Now they are forced to make the decision on how to proceed. But will it justify the one that they made in the past, or will it mock it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: O. E. Boroni
• Release date: Jul 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311440341

O. E. Boroni

O. E. Boroni currently lives in the United Kingdom. Her days are spent in the Project Management field while her nights are spent with books. She's either reading them or writing the ones that she wants to read. To get in touch with this author, you can visit her website at www.oeboroniauthor.com.

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THE WAY TO NEVER

O. E. Boroni

Copyright © 2015 by O. E. Boroni

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in book reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events and places in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

For more information, visit

oeboroniauthor.com

Copy Editing: Melissa-Jane Fogarty at

www.mjediting.com

Cover Design: Grady at

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To my Mom,

Elizabeth Ibhade; the strongest woman I know.

I hope I someday become at least half the woman you are.

I love you.

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

AUTHOR’S NOTE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

OTHER BOOKS BY O. E. BORONI

PROLOGUE

Nathan

I wanted us to walk, but Gary refused. He insisted that we take the subway, but that was until we ran into a light-skinned girl named Angela with a head full of dark curls and a striking pair of light brown eyes. It seemed like they were old friends, so the moment she’d hailed him down, he’d immediately lost his sense of direction and practically skipped over to her like a kid who’d just spotted a stray puppy that he’d fallen in love with, but knew that he could never have.

In the hypothetical kid’s case, the reason would be because his mother said no. In Gary’s case, it was because he wasn’t confident enough.

Just wait and see, he’d repeated so many times to me over the course of the last year. When I’m past my internship years and become a resident neurosurgeon at the Presbyterian Hospital, –– "I’ll be rich, I’ll be confident and I’ll be sexy as hell, because papi, success is sezy." Yup, he intentionally pronounced sexy as sezy.

At the time he’d been in his trying to be Puerto Rican phase with the slang, and then he would also act out the boast in a grating sluggardly voice that sadly enough, complimented it perfectly. It always quietly amused me, but the other stereotypical gestures such as the kisses on both cheeks as a form of greeting, and the constant interruption for absolutely no reason when I was trying to speak to him, didn’t.

I’d followed after him over to the girl for the sake of politeness, and then quietly removed myself from the conversation after the basic introductions. It was a given that Gary would lose himself in chatting with her for the next few minutes so I continued on alone on our walk down the tree-lined street, and then turned the corner onto Amsterdam Avenue.

I was looking for the convenience store that I’d sighted on our way in yesterday as we’d arrived from the John F. Kennedy Airport. A few stores down the avenue, I found it.

I walked in, took two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and grabbed a packet of Lay’s chips from a rack – I didn’t mind which flavour it was. Then I grabbed a packet of mints when I reached the counter but tried ignoring the packets of Marlboros that lined a top rack behind it.

Is that all you’ll need? the cashier asked. He was a small Korean man with a wide smile on his face that automatically put a small one on mine. I told him to add the packet of cigarettes, and he did.

Gary called just as I was leaving so I found a spot where I could wait for him to catch up with me. I ripped the bag of chips open and started eating, while leaning against a stone building wall that separated the convenience store from a dry cleaner’s named Swan’s.

New York City was in my opinion, pure chaos. It was a sort of organized chaos but still, chaos. At every turn there was a store or a person offering something for sale, countless people walking briskly by and hundreds of vehicles urgently driving past. The vibrations from underneath as the trains rumbled by were enough to plague the mind, but the locals didn’t seem to notice it. They walked about, comfortable and content in their familiarity with the city and its strumpet ways.

Down the avenue was a majestic old church, as well as an endless line of high-rise apartment buildings with air conditioning units protruding out of the windows.

The vibrancy of the city carried with it scents that filled the air and gave everything in sight a certain mystique that promised greatness for the bold. But still, I wasn’t quite sure if I liked it. Maybe when times and priorities changed; maybe then, I would be more open to it all.

I heard Gary call my name, so I glanced to my left to see the lanky Canadian-born geek heading towards me with a wide grin on his face. I finished my chips, and stepped forward to toss it into the trashcan in front of me.

Gary walked without any thought for carriage. His arms swung carelessly by his sides and his shaggy dark hair blew haphazardly in the light wind that accompanied the warm summer afternoon.

Hope you got me my cigarettes, he said, even before he’d reached me. He’d won a stupid bet over who would fall asleep on our flight here from Los Angeles. I usually didn’t sleep on flights but the last couple of days had been hectic enough, so I hadn’t been able to resist the few hours of rest that being 39,000 feet in the air afforded me. So for that, I owed him a supply of cigarettes until my one-week stay in the city was over. I tipped my head backwards so that I could drink from the water bottle.

I didn’t smoke because that was what was currently killing my father, but Gary did, and had refused to quit despite all my warnings.

Are we still going to be able to make this walk? I asked as I screwed the bottle cap back on. I cringed inwardly as the sudden shrill of a car horn blared irritatingly by.

Well, you were the one who wanted it.

"You’re the one who just increased the time we were supposed to take by ten minutes. Let’s just take the subway."

No. He refused. "Let’s walk, and live. I’ve missed the city." He closed his eyes, and then dramatically breathed in the New York City air. I narrowed mine and watched, almost amused as his foolish gallantry ended in a cough. This city did not encourage careless inhaling.

And you need to start knowing your way around here too. You might soon be living here.

I doubt it, I said as we began walking.

Aren’t you expecting the job at the CNN here?

I’m not sure if I’m going to get it, and even if I do, I think I’d prefer the Atlanta centre to the one here.

Why? he asked, with the disgust that only a true New Yorker could feel and inoffensively express.

Atlanta has the right pace for me. New York is too fast.

That’s bullshit. Everyone I know falls in love with the city eventually. But what about your other options? You also had interviews with FOX and NBC didn’t you?

Yeah, I did.

Any news from them?

No, not yet.

Well, even if you don’t get any of them now, I’m positive that you will soon if you just wait a little longer. You’re not even out of college yet.

I don’t like waiting very much, I said. Not everyone has to be a journalist from behind a desk.

He sighed. That’s cool, but please don’t ever mention that crap that you were considering earlier.

You mean getting a camera and going on my own to Iraq?

Dude, even hearing that pisses me off all over again, and I’m not even the one considering it.

I smiled. I think it’ll be a good experience to have.

Maybe, if there wasn’t the chance that you won’t come out of it alive, he said sarcastically. "Dude it’s the middle of their civil war."

I smirked. I’m almost looking forward to it.

Gary continued complaining for the next few minutes about how I needed to put my safety before my need for mindless excitement. His concern was valid, and so was mine (although I didn’t show it), but I’d since made up my mind to live my life scared of nothing but complacency. So all his nagging fell on deaf ears and if anything, encouraged me to look forward to the possibility even more.

The more I thought about it, the more uncertain I became that even if I got any of the jobs that I was currently vying for, that I would take them in exchange for this experience. But in order to take his mind off things that didn’t need worrying about just yet, I asked him about the girl Angela, and instantly, he forgot about my problems.

He babbled on about how they’d first met in high school here in New York, and then complained about how even though she lived in his neighbourhood, he’d still never taken their interactions past a quick conversation. It made me think about a certain pair of grey eyes that had haunted me for the last four years.

We had to head back to 85th Street where he’d first met the girl, and from there, out and onwards towards Times Square. We walked for quite a while, so by the time we stopped for lunch at a food cart in Central Park, my mind had been completely hijacked by thoughts of her.

As Gary stood in line to purchase hot dogs, I strayed a few steps away from him and placed the call.

Elisa’s soft but bright voice immediately came through the receiver. It’d been almost a year since I’d last spoken to her.

"You," she said accusingly, and it instantly drew a smile from me. That was the way she greeted me every time I called, like a criminal who had still not shown up to ask forgiveness for the crime that he’d committed.

I’ve missed you too Elisa.

She snorted. Well, I haven’t missed you. I told you to stop calling me until you grew the hell up and came over here yourself.

I chuckled in response, used to the same comments from Elisa each time I spoke to her. Knowing it would go nowhere, she changed the subject.

How’s graduation from UCLA coming along?

It’s coming along well, I responded, and I could almost hear her smile. I decided to quickly take the opportunity to ask before she grew defensive again.

How’s Nora?

Really, Alex?

C’mon Elisa. Please.

She sighed, and made me wait a few seconds before responding. She’s okay, I guess, she answered. But that’s if you don’t count the fact that she barely spends nights at home anymore and shows up to zero percent of her classes. Where are you by the way? Did you go home to wait for your graduation?

Her change of the topic was automatic, like it had become a bad memory that she couldn’t relive for more than a few seconds at a time. It worried me.

No, I’m in New York for the week. I came for a journalism conference. What do you mean by she doesn’t attend her classes. What’s going on?

She’s latched onto this stupid girl called Trisha.

What’s wrong with Trisha?

Let’s just say she’s very bad news for Lenora, she replied, the disgust in her voice as distasteful as an open wound. She’s wild, and with Nora’s need for life to shock some sense into her, I’m genuinely waiting for a disaster to happen. It’s inevitable. Her voice was hard as she spoke, making it apparent just how deep the frustrations that she nursed ran.

Why is Nora involved with her? I asked.

She says that it’s because Trisha’s at least ‘walking in her own truth’ and isn’t afraid of life like the rest of us. Lennie still feels like she’s just stuck here with nowhere else to go.

I thought you mentioned last time that she was planning to change her major. Why hasn’t she done that yet?

Because she doesn’t know what she wants to do, and she’s too scared to drop out. Hence the obsession with Trisha who doesn’t give a damn about anything. It’s pissing me off because she’s spinning out of control and she’s not listening to anyone anymore.

Where is she now? I asked, but for some reason Elisa hesitated.

She’s fine, she replied. Don’t worry about it.

I don’t understand. Why are you refusing to tell me?

It’s nothing, she said. I’ll tell her you calle– she started to automatically say, but then she remembered that I still hadn’t spoken to her since boarding school.

Oh, I forgot. You’re as much an idiot as she is.

The insult didn’t even register. Elisa where is she? Is she alright?

She is, don’t worry about it. And there’s nothing you can do about it anyway since I’m sure that you’re part of the reason why she continues to act like the whole world is her enemy. I’m sincerely tired of the both of you.

She wasn’t going to say anything else regarding Nora’s whereabouts so with a sigh, I slowed down and tried to accept it. I didn’t even realize that I had been pacing.

Okay Elisa, thank you, I said. But please call if there’s anything else.

Hmm hmm, she agreed begrudgingly.

Thank you, Elisa.

You’re welcome, and congratulations in advance.

Thanks, I said, and ended the call.

Elisa’s concern about Nora had automatically soured my mood so as Gary and I resumed our walk towards Times Square, there was very little chatter from me.

That evening, I arrived at The Roosevelt Hotel, suit-clad and on time for the kick-off of the conference. I was staying with Gary and his brother. Gary was my roommate back at UCLA so when I’d told him of my plans to attend the conference he’d immediately offered me a place to stay.

Now that I was here, I expected that I would be a little more enthusiastic, but all I wanted right now was to hear from Elisa regarding any updates on Nora. Or better still, allow the impossible to happen and call Nora myself just so that I could hear her voice one more time. Sometimes, the distress of not being able to do so and not knowing if I ever would became so overwhelming, that I didn’t know what to do with myself. Today was one of those bitter days.

On days like these, the smallest things would spark memories of her, and they always left me feeling temporarily convinced that leaving Lancaster Academy without saying anything to her was to be the biggest regret of my life. I refused to let myself dwell on it too much, but as the days passed and it seemed more and more like I really might never get to see her again, I became even more afraid.

But like anything that made me feel too out of control for too long, I always found a way to ignore it or push it out of the forefront and to the back of my mind. Yet tonight as I stared at the front of the hotel, all I could think about was how I would give up whatever I had to do here today for the chance to get a glimpse of her, or even just to hear her voice. However, none of that was going to happen so I straightened my navy blue suit jacket by its tails, and walked into the majestic hotel.

It was about an hour before the main event but one of my professors had invited me up to mad46 – the rooftop lounge at the very top of the building – for a pre-party. I entered the building but had just stepped into the lobby when I got my wish. My phone began to ring and when I fished it out of my pocket to see that it was Elisa calling, my heart dropped into my stomach. I immediately answered.

Hi, is everything alright? I asked, the calm I had felt just a moment ago now replaced by an apprehension that made my head spin.

Yeah, of course, she answered in a pitch higher than her usual tone. I closed my eyes and waited for it.

It’s just that Lennie left Miami yesterday and was supposed to have arrived in New York last night, she said. I was stunned into silence for a few seconds.

What do you mean by ‘she was supposed to’?

Do you know Carlie?

Yes. Her childhood friend.

Well, Carlie attends Parsons School of Design, so Lennie was supposed to go over to her place last night but none of us have heard from her since she left. Her phone’s been switched off.

She’s with Trisha?

Probably. She sighed. She’s going to be fine, she began, but her entire tone was filled with worry, I just called because I needed to talk to someone other than Car– wait a moment, Carlie’s calling, she said, and she put me on hold.

I turned around and started descending the lobby stairs. I had just come out of the building when she got back to me.

She’s fine! she said exhaling, and still managing to sound pissed at the same time.

Where is she?

She just called Carlie and told her that she decided to stay at a hotel with Trisha last night. They’re in some bar now.

What bar?

I don’t know, I didn’t ask.

I hailed down a cab, and got in. Could you ask Carlie and then text it to me?

Nathan … I don’t think it’s a good idea. She’s fine now.

I let out a deep breath. Elisa … please?

She was silent for a few moments before she said, I’ll give you Carlie’s number instead. I don’t want to make this decision.

Okay, thank you, I said, and I hung up.

A few minutes later I received Carlie’s number and I dialled it straight away. A voice a little deeper than Elisa’s answered.

Hello, I’m Nathan Roque, I introduced myself.

Hey, I’m Carlie. Elisa said you’d call. It’s about time we spoke huh.

I managed a small smile. Yeah.

She’s in a bar in East Harlem. It’s called ‘Shrine’.

Okay, I said, beyond grateful and hoping she could hear just how much through the phone. Thank you.

But Nathan, don’t approach her, she said warning me. Just check if she’s alright from afar and then inform us, please. I would have gone myself but I’m in class right now and I can’t get away.

It took me a few seconds to make up my mind, and then I agreed.

Okay. I promised.

Thank you, she said and hung up.

I walked into Shrine about thirty minutes later, and slid into the nearest seat that I could find. The lighting of the bar was a little too dim to assist me in making out her face amongst the other patrons.

Sticking to the shadows, I got up after a few fruitless minutes and briskly made my way to the opposite side of the room. I found an empty corner table so I slid in and resumed my search.

A few seconds later, I saw her … and everything inside of me stilled.

She was in a booth with three men that looked to be in their mid-thirties, two of them with full beards and one that was clean shaven and partly bald. Wild laughter continuously broke out from the table as I continued to watch her, yet all she managed through it all was a small, cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes … I’d been through a number of ordeals in my life but so far only a few things had come close to unsettling me as much as her eyes did. The first time I’d stared into them what had hit me first was the despair, but then there was also hope, although it was flickering. I’d come to see the pain later on – she masked it quite well.

We were both walking past each other in one of the hallways back at Lancaster, but what had made me stop was when she’d lazily slid her gaze away from mine, and I’d realized then that it had probably not even registered to her that our gazes had stayed on each other’s for the last few seconds. I’d gotten my confirmation a few days later when I’d bumped into her and seen that there was no recognition in her eyes. The moment she broke the tray on my back, the slight interest I’d previously nursed about her had flared up into a deep-seated fascination. From then on, I’d needed to know who she was.

Right now, and four years later, it was hard to believe that she was actually seated across the room from me. But the state I was finding her in, tore at my heart with almost as much ferocity as the joy I felt at seeing her did.

Her face was covered with too much makeup, which in my opinion she didn’t even need a hint of. Her skin as I remembered bordered between creamy and pale and felt as smooth as sifted flour.

The busty blonde that sat in the booth with her – whose high-pitched voice I could hear across the room as she talked faster than she could breathe – was most likely Trisha, but just as Elisa had alluded to, she looked comfortable surrounded by all the men as they listened to her yapper.

Lenora on the other hand, kept subtly leaning away from the full-bearded man that had his hand draped around her shoulders. A few more minutes passed as I watched her before she suddenly turned to the man and said something to him. With a wide grin, he slid out of the booth and allowed her to leave.

As she did, she wobbled on a pair of very high dark heels and struggled to ensure that her black sequined dress was straightened down enough to properly cover her thighs. In my opinion it was still too short, but no one was asking me. Without thinking, I immediately got out of my chair and followed her.

She went into the ladies bathroom so I walked past it, and headed over to a dim area by the corner to wait. I thought about what I could do when she came out that would remain within the boundaries of the promise that I’d given to Carlie, because now that I’d seen her, I didn’t think that I’d be able to bring myself to just leave without saying or doing anything.

After a few more seconds of battling with my head against all the reasons why I couldn’t just bump into her and pretend it was coincidental, the door to the bathroom reopened again and she came out. She started to head back towards the bar but suddenly, she stopped. She stood there for a few seconds before she just turned around and headed out towards the back door. I followed her and stopped close to the glass window of the door to watch her.

For a long time I watched her as she just stood there, staring up at the sky with her arms folded across her chest. When I saw that she might soon be coming back in again, something occurred to me, so I reached into my breast pocket for a pen and the conference itinerary that was tucked into it. A side of the page was blank so after folding it, I wrote on it and tore the section out.

I watched her for a few more minutes while at the same time looking out for anyone who would come by. Luckily, a waitress did, with a garbage bag in her hands.

Excuse me, I called, and with a smile she stopped.

Hey, how can I help you? she asked.

Could you please help me deliver a note to that girl outside? She craned her head so that she could look through the glass to see whom I was referring to.

Sure, she replied when she spotted her. Who should I say it’s from?

No one, I replied. Tell her you didn’t really pay attention to my face so you can’t remember what I look like.

She looked skeptical. Are you sure?

I am, I replied. Please.

Okay, she said, agreeing with a shrug, so I passed the note over to her.

Thank you, I said, and then I turned around to leave. I wanted to wait to see what her reaction would be, but I couldn’t bring myself to remain there for even a second more, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from going up to her. The pull to turn around tormented me, but I managed to keep myself sane until I had stepped out of the bar.

The cool evening air hit me but I didn’t stop to embrace it. I continued walking until I’d gotten into a cab and was well on my