“Yes. I’m planning to start my master’s program in counseling, so I went to see the career adviser. You know, to see what credits transfer, that sort of thing. And there he was, walking from the parking lot. He asked if we could have a glass of wine and talk about things, so I did.”
Jake scowled and fed himself a scoop of ice cream. “You did,” he repeated.
“It’s been eight years. You know the details. You and Justine are the only two people who actually know. When I told him I’d had the baby and he died, he seemed genuinely sad. Remorseful. He’s divorced now, he says. It stirred up some old feelings, I guess you could say. It brought to mind how hopelessly and stupidly in love I was at the time. I had no control of my feelings. None.”
“Back then or now?” he asked.
“I was thrown back into the past for a little while—he played me like a fiddle, I think. Then he called me tonight and asked me to meet him. To talk. I assumed there was more he had to say or maybe to ask me. So of course I went. He wanted to drive up to the lookout so we could be alone, but he spoiled it all by kissing me. It was a fantastic, memorable kiss, but it tipped me off that maybe talking wasn’t a priority. And his dialogue was much more interesting. He was hoping this reunion would lead to a second chance.”
“Since the first one went so well,” Jake grumbled.
“I’m so dense sometimes,” she said, scooping another spoonful out of the container. “But then I haven’t had that much experience. There were a couple of pretty unexciting boyfriends in high school and college. Then after Hadley and the baby, the only guy I dated was you.”
“Addie, what we did wasn’t exactly dating...”
“Pizza, the occasional movie, wine and dessert from the deli...”
“Those things were the things friends do,” he said.
“And we’ve always been good friends,” she reminded him. “Besides Justine, you’re the only person I confide in. And when Justine lived in San Jose, I talked to you a lot more than her. I’m glad I ran into Hadley. I figured something out that I should have known a long time ago. He is a clever man. If he had wanted to call me, just to see how I was holding up, he would have. All that business he gave me about our painful breakup and how I told him I didn’t want to hear from him—that never would have stopped him. He’s just a player.”
“I could’ve told you that,” Jake said.
“So is your ex, Mary Ellen—just a player.”
“Definitely. Now she’s with some old guy who looks like he’s gonna croak any second, but I hear he has money.”
“We’ve spent a lot of time over the years bad-mouthing the exes.”
“A time-honored sport,” he said. “I have to admit, I’m well over Mary Ellen. I can’t even remember what fantasy I was engaged in that made me think we’d have a life together. A great life. It wasn’t great for fifteen minutes.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Hadley said he loved me in no time. Two weeks, I think. How do you know if you love someone in two weeks?”
“Infatuation, Addie. That’s what it was.” Then he grinned. “Pretty cool at the time, wasn’t it? Fills you up inside till you think you might explode.”
“Yeah, boy,” she said with a deep sigh. “He said I was old enough to know what I was doing. I was twenty-four. And now I’m asking myself what I thought was so great about him. The man has no depth. No substance. He’s all talk and manipulation. I let him cost me years of loneliness.”
“That’s not a fair assessment,” Jake said. “He might have been the original cause, but then things snowballed. Your dad, your mom, and before you know it, you’ve put your life on hold to help others. I think what you did was very brave.”