by Thea Dawson
He actually didn’t look as surprised by this as I’d thought he would but he looked at me with enormous sympathy. “I’m so sorry. This must be an awful shock.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said impatiently. “I’ve always known he was gay. We’re not really engaged.” I paused. “We never were.”
He stared at me for a long moment as the words sank in. “Wait, never? Amber said you weren’t engaged, but I thought …” There was a long pause. “Could I maybe take that single malt after all?” he finally asked.
I smiled and got up to get him a drink.
“Okay,” he said, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “You’re not engaged, and he’s not straight anyway.”
I nodded.
“And you’ve known all along that he was gay?”
“Mm hmm.” I nodded again.
“So you were never engaged.”
I shook my head.
He leaned back in the armchair and ran a hand through his hair. “God, Monica, I never thought … I feel like a weight’s been lifted. I was so worried about you. I just knew Stephen wasn’t the right guy for you. I kept thinking I was just being jealous, but I knew there wasn’t any chemistry between you guys. I just couldn’t imagine why you were marrying him. But why did you pretend you were?”
You were jealous? I wanted to say, but didn’t. I could feel my cheeks starting to heat up. I took a deep, shaky breath and started. “The morning I ran into you in the coffee shop, I looked you up on the internet and found your engagement notice. So I figured you were engaged, or maybe even married by now. And since you already thought I was engaged, I decided to just go with it. I don’t know why, exactly.” This was even harder than I’d thought it would be. “I guess I was jealous, too.”
Chapter 29
Jason
She was jealous, too?
“Why did you keep it up even after you found out I was single?” I was still trying to catch up with the conversation.
Her face flushed. “Because I’d just finished telling you all about my amazing fiancé when you told me you and Meghan had broken up. I was too embarrassed to backtrack at that point.”
“So why not tell me later? I mean, you’ve kept this up for a while now.” I didn’t have any right to sound like I was accusing her of anything, but I was having a hard time keeping my tone neutral.
“Look,” she said, “I’m still attracted to you. But honestly, I never really got over what happened in college. I guess I’m still hanging on to some … I don’t know, resentment, I guess. Confusion? And I knew if I hung out with you I’d just fall for you all over again, and I just didn’t …” She trailed off awkwardly.
I put my glass down and reached over to take her hands in mine. “You didn’t trust me. Which I totally understand. Monica,” I said, “there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.” I paused and swallowed. “I don’t know if you ever wondered about it, you probably don’t even care.” I looked down at the table nervously and took a deep breath. “That night with Amber—” I began.
Her head snapped up and she gave me an anxious look. I swallowed and went on.
“That night with Amber … I’m really sorry for what I put you through. I was a total asshole, and I’ve always felt bad about it. I shouldn’t have set it up in the first place, and I shouldn’t have let you walk home by yourself, and I was just beyond being a jerk. And I am so, so sorry.”
There was a long silence. I forced myself to look her in the face, and could tell she was blinking back tears. I felt a stab of pain at what I’d put her through, but also a sense of relief that we were finally getting it out into the open.
“Why?” she managed.
But I couldn’t say anything more. I looked down at my drink, as if it would give me an answer. “I guess I was hurt that you were going to France. I felt like you didn’t love me as much as I loved you, otherwise you wouldn’t have been leaving me for such a long time. The summer after freshman year, when I only got to see you for a week—I thought it was going to kill me, I missed you so much. And a whole year—maybe I just went a little crazy. Amber was, God, I don’t know if I was trying to make you prove you loved me, or prove that I didn’t need you as much as I really did. Or maybe it was just revenge. I wanted to hurt you because you were hurting me. It was so stupid.” I put the glass on the side table and put my head in my hands. “It was awful of me to try to pressure you into doing something like that, and I’m so sorry.”
I looked up at her again. “I don’t know if you even care, but I never slept with her. I never wanted her. I only ever wanted you. Please, believe me.” I paused to take a breath. “And I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She managed a smile. “She told me.”
“Amber told you?”
She nodded. “She cornered me in the ladies room tonight, and told me that you guys never, um, hooked up. But thank you. I appreciate the apology. I needed to hear it.”
We sat there for a while in silence, sipping at our drinks. Two huge weights had been lifted: I’d finally apologized for Amber, and I’d found out Monica wasn’t making a huge mistake in marrying Stephen. But now it felt like there was a vacuum between us that needed to be filled.
I glanced at her, trying to get a sense of what she was thinking.
She looked back at me.
I cleared my throat. “Monica, I still really like you. The time we’ve spent together over the past couple of weeks—you’re even more amazing than I remembered. Do you think we could give it another shot?”
She looked away and my heart began to sink. “I don’t think it would work out,” she said, her voice hoarse.
I managed a wry smile. “Is there any way I could convince you that I’m a reformed character now, maybe—”
She sighed. “It’s not that.” She was silent for a moment, her eyes closed. “It’s just that I’m afraid the whole thing is going to happen all over again. I’m going back on the road in a couple of weeks. I have a contract to write some chapters for a series of travel books. I leave for Bangkok on Valentine’s Day.”
Of course. She’d said as much at the bar, but I’d been too confused to really take it in. As my heart sank, I felt it again: the same old feeling of helplessness, of drowning. I felt like the air had been cut off, like I couldn’t breathe. For a brief moment there, when she said she wasn’t really engaged, I’d felt a crazy surge of hope. A vision of a life with her had flashed across my mind, only to be replaced with a sudden sense of emptiness.
Of course she was leaving. She wasn’t engaged, so what reason would she have to stay in Chicago?
“When are you coming back?” I asked, grasping at straws. She looked adorable in her pajamas and her fluffy robe, but her eyes were pink and swollen. I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her and kiss until she was smiling again, but forced myself to stay in the armchair.
She shook her head. “I wasn’t really planning on coming back. Not to Chicago. I’ll probably be gone for at least six months, and when I come back, I usually either visit my parents, or just find a friend somewhere who will put me up for a few weeks. I think there’s a good chance Stephen won’t have room for me the next time I’m here.”
“Damn. I’d really like … I mean, I know we haven’t … Maybe you could put your trip off. Did you already pay for the tickets?”
She shook her head. “The publisher is paying for the flight. It’s part of the compensation. I have to go.”
“Okay, then.” I thought quickly. “Six months isn’t that long. And you could stay with me when you come back.”
She smiled sadly at me. “It’s still the same problem, though. Your career is here. You’re so excited about your job and that’s great. But I’m not really planning on settling down anytime soon, and honestly, if I were, it wouldn’t be here—it’s way too cold. I’ve been trying to make myself like Chicago, but I just haven’t been able to.”
“You know, I don’t like Chicago either,” I told her.
/> She laughed. “Well, if you can swing a few weeks’ vacation, maybe you could come and visit. Thailand’s nice and warm.”
I took a deep breath and a big swig of whiskey. “No,” I said. “I don’t want to visit.”
She looked a little hurt at my bluntness.
I went on quickly. “I mean, I really hate Chicago. I hate my job. I’m ready to get the hell out of here anyway. I’ve just been hanging on because I’ve been too chickenshit to quit and do something I really want.”
She blinked and looked anxious. “What are you talking about? You have this great job for this big-deal company. Are you just saying this? I don’t want you doing anything drastic on my account.”
“No. It’s already done.” I sighed, feeling like an idiot for having put myself in this position. “Look, I’ve been playing up how great my job is because I was jealous. I saw you with this rich, successful guy, and I thought that was what you wanted. Hell, maybe it is what you want. But really, I was overdue to be fired. My boss hated me almost as much as I hated him. I’ve been hanging on, hoping I’d be able to get unemployment benefits and when I did, I was going to start working freelance. But I can do that from anywhere. I handed in my notice on Thursday.”
Now it was her turn to sit quietly, absorbing this information. “Okay,” she said. She looked at me cautiously. “Okay, then. So where does this leave us?”
I moved across the room and sat down on the bed next to her. “I know we have a lot of catching up to do, and I know this is a weird place to start, but I’ve never been able to get you out of my mind. Ten years ago, I begged you to stay with me because I couldn’t imagine a life without you.” I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Now, I’m going to beg you to let me come with you, because I still can’t.”
Chapter 30
Monica
The thin pull-out mattress sank under his weight. I could feel the warmth from his body and smell his cologne. It took some serious willpower not to simply snuggle up against him and rest my head on his chest. Instead, I shifted back so that I could look him in the face.
I held his gaze for a long time.
I could tell he was serious—or at least, he thought he was. His green eyes gazed steadily into mine. He was talking about a huge step, especially for two people who hadn’t had a real relationship in almost a decade. I knew he had no idea what he was getting into.
“Have you ever even been abroad?” I asked.
“I went to Cancun for spring break senior year,” he said. He sounded so hopeful, I felt my heart give a lurch.
“So, you do have a passport?” I asked dubiously.
“It doesn’t expire for almost two more years.”
“Okay, that’s good, but this … I mean, it’s a big change. We’ll be going to the developing world. It’s not all fancy hotels and air conditioning. It’s dirt roads and crowded buses and weird food. It’s not what you’re used to.”
A big grin split his face.
“What? I’m serious. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Your entire business model is based on empowering women whose idea of hardship is doing their own dishes to travel in the third world, and you’re worried that I won’t be able to cut it. You’re seriously eroding my masculinity here.”
I laughed. “I have no doubts about your masculinity. It’s just going to be a big change. And we hardly know each other anymore. What if we hate each other?”
“I doubt we’ll hate each other. But here’s the deal. I’m going to bust my ass starting up a business of my own, and you’re going to be writing and working on your own business. We’re going to spend plenty of time together, but we’re going to spend plenty of time doing our own thing, too. And if it all truly goes to hell and we just can’t stand each other—which I highly doubt—my promise to you is that I will buy a plane ticket and head back to New York. My dad’s been trying to get me to move back there anyway.”
Ten years ago, we’d been sitting on the bed in my dorm room and he’d been begging me not to go abroad. Now he was begging me to take him along. Unable to think of anything to say, I took a sip of my tea and looked away. I couldn’t sort out where the excitement stopped and the fear began.
“Monica, I know it sounds crazy—”
“Well, yeah.”
“I know it sounds crazy,” he persisted, “but look, out of nowhere, we bump into each other in a coffee shop, neither of us are in a relationship, I’m looking for a new job in marketing, you’re looking to market your business, we both still like each other. It’s like … destiny or something.”
I laughed, maybe a little hysterically this time, and shook my head. Destiny. Of course. “We hardly know each other anymore,” I mumbled, for some reason feeling like I should be the voice of reason in this situation.
“No, we know each other better than anyone. We just haven’t spent all that much time together recently.” He brushed the hair out of my face, his fingers lingering a few moments longer than necessary. “I’ve never gotten over you. I’ve never stopped feeling bad about what I tried to do with you and Amber, and I’ve always wanted you to know. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you.”
“Not even your fiancé?” I asked drily. I should have left well enough alone, but I could feel my defenses activating in spite of myself.
He shook his head. “It wasn’t the same. She wasn’t a bad person or anything, we just weren’t right for each other. If we had been, we would have made it work.”
I finally turned to look him in the eye. “Maybe if we’d been right for each other, you’d have figured out a way to come to Paris with me.” I could hear traces of bitterness in my voice. Ridiculous to still be upset about this ten years later, but I knew we’d never get to a future together if I couldn’t put the past behind us.
“So maybe we weren’t right for each other then. We were just kids. I was just a kid, and I was stupid and immature.”
I sighed and shook my head. “This is crazy. There are so many reasons that this is a bad idea.”
“I mean it, Monica. I want to go with you. Even before I ran into you at that coffee shop, I was looking for a way out. And if there’s even a chance that it could be with you, I don’t want to risk losing it.”
“I’m leaving in two weeks. It’s just not enough time. Maybe you could meet me there in a month or two.”
He shook his head. “I’ll be on your flight.”
I stopped thinking of objections and looked at him, at his handsome face. He was trying to keep it together, but I could see a hint of desperation in his green eyes. I sighed again. “It’ll be expensive to book on such short notice, but I know an airfare site where you can sometimes get some great bargains, and if that doesn’t work, maybe we could try having you fly standby—” I broke off.
He was staring at me with a big smile.
“What?” I asked.
Jason chuckled and gave me a squeeze. “You’re already talking like it’s a done deal. It will be a big change, but if you’re willing to give it a shot, I am, too.”
I sat up straight again. The fear was changing slowly into excitement. To be on the road again—with Jason. To not have to give up traveling, to have someone by my side, someone who was good company, and supported my business, and who was just as excited about building his own business as I was. It was crazy. It was risky.
But it could work.
Chapter 31
Jason
I could see all the different emotions crossing her face. Excitement, anxiety, anticipation. I tried to think of something I could say that would tip it once and for all in my favor, but I decided to stay quiet. It was enough that she was seriously considering it; I didn’t want to pressure her.
“Maybe. Let me just think about it for a bit,” she said.
“Yes,” I agreed, relieved that she hadn’t simply said no. “Very wise. Let’s sleep on it.” I paused for a moment. “Maybe I should go, then. Let you get some sleep.�
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“No, stay. I mean, finish your drink at least.”
There was a long silence, which I filled by nervously taking a few more sips of my drink, while she sipped her tea pensively. Suddenly we both started speaking at once, then we stopped and looked bashfully at each other.
“Go ahead, you first,” I said.
She laughed. “I was just thinking how strange this is.”
“Yeah, I guess it is strange,” I agreed
“And I was thinking you should put your drink down for a moment,” she added.
I put my whiskey on the side table and she put her tea down at the same time. Empty handed, we sat staring at each other for a moment.
“And I think you should let me kiss you,” she whispered.
I smiled. We leaned toward each other and our lips touched in a gentle kiss that slowly deepened. For a moment, I waited for the memories to come flooding back, but instead, I was overwhelmed by the present moment, the scent of her citrusy perfume, her taste, the feel of her lips against mine. Eventually we broke apart and sat looking into each other’s eyes.
“Yes,” she said.
It took me a moment to understand what she was saying. I broke into a huge grin. “Yes? You really want to? You’ll let me go with you?”
She nodded, her smile wide and her eyes bright. “Yes. I really want you to go with me.”
“That was all it took, huh?”
She shrugged. “I would have said yes anyway. I just missed kissing you.”
We sat there for a moment holding hands and staring stupidly at each other, then at the same time, we started to laugh.
“I feel like we should go out and celebrate or something,” I said. “How ’bout it? You want to get dressed and we’ll go out for a drink or something?”
She laughed. “I do want to celebrate, but not now. I’m exhausted, and I’ve had too much to drink as it is. Besides, the snow’s coming down so hard, we’d probably get stuck in a ditch somewhere. Let’s stay in. Would you like some more whiskey?”