Page 31 of Still the One

“Are you okay, Mac?” Izzy asks. “Do you need me to kiss anything better? Apparently, I’m very good at it.”

My foolish heart, I think. All the cracks I managed to smooth over since Jamie left and are now starting to appear again.

“I’m going to get some water.” There are two full bottles of water on the table, but I don’t care. I head to the kitchen.

My kitchen is spotless, all evidence of my soiree already erased by the catering company.

“Do you need us to stick around?” the guy in charge asks.

“I think I’ve got it. Thank you so much.” Maybe if my guests see the caterers leave, they’ll go home as well, and Jamie can leave my apartment once and for all. I can open all the windows and rid the air of her scent. I can go to sleep and wake up tomorrow pretending she no longer exists again.

I say goodbye to the people who helped me tonight.

“How’s that water coming?” Jamie appears in the doorframe.

“It’s, um, coming.” What is she doing here? Why can’t she just leave me alone?

“Are you okay, Mac?”

I shake my head. I’m coming apart at the seams. “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t have you here. You’re not a part of… this.” I look around my spotless kitchen, as though it’s the perfect metaphor for the life I built after Jamie, but it’s just a kitchen. And my life has never been this clean or pretty.

“I’ll go. It’s okay. I get it,” Jamie says. But instead of leaving, she walks farther into the room. “But Mac, do you think we can talk sometime? Just the two of us?”

“What’s there to talk about?” I swallow hard.

“Only twenty years’ worth of life.”

“I’m not sure I can do that.”

“You don’t owe me anything, but maybe it will be good for you. Just think about it, please. Any time.”

“Good for me?” I blurt out. “Like seeing you again has been good for me? I don’t think so.”

“Please.” Jamie looks at me with those dark eyes of hers. Thank goodness she refrains from sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. I’m so all over the place, I might completely self-sabotage again and ask her to stay instead of leave. That’s how scrambled my brain is when I’m with her. I have no clue what I want. I want to both shout at her and kiss her. I want to push her away with all my might and let my hands roam all over her body—preferably naked. This is unbearable, and the only way to make it go away is to not be in the same room as her—and to stand my ground whenever someone suggests we see each other.

“It may not feel like it right now, but maybe it can be a good thing. For both of us.” Jamie smiles at me and it’s the kind of smile that takes over her entire face, as though the sun itself has taken possession of her body and is shining from her very core. “Thank you so much for tonight. It was really, um… something else.”

Raucous laughter rises up in the living room. For a few moments there, I forgot I had other guests.

“I’m going now. Good night, Mac.”

As she turns around and walks away, it’s like someone is clenching a fist around my stomach, squeezing it hard. Like I can’t bear the sight of Jamie walking away from me. I take a few breaths and steady myself. I rummage around in the kitchen until Jamie has said her goodbyes, until I hear the elevator doors close behind her. I take another deep breath before I face my remaining guests.

“Did something happen?” Charles asks.

“No. I just…” I can’t explain what I’m feeling to them right now.

“Was it too hard to spend time with her?” Alan puts his good hand on my shoulder.

“Yes, it was.” Because it wasn’t just what happened between Jamie and me. It’s also all the things that didn’t happen. Most of all, it’s the painful reminder that, after her, I wasn’t able to make the life for myself that I always wanted. And I don’t know if that’s because of her or because of me. “Maui was Maui, but to have her in my home…” I bought this place, which is luxurious but would be way too small for the family I’ve always wanted, as a sort of acceptance. When I turned thirty-eight, and I realized I’d never have children, I relented and bought what is, essentially, a female bachelor pad. “It’s too much.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you,” Leila says.

“You didn’t, but to be with her in my home made me feel like such a loser. It made me think of all the things I wanted in my life that I don’t have.”

“Does that include Jamie?” Alan asks.

“What?” My eyes nearly roll out of my head. But Alan doesn’t know what I want. Or maybe he remembers. Jamie and I were always making plans, dreaming out loud of our big family. “No.”

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