Page 47 of Still the One

Alan sighs. I understand. I’m getting tired of the same old song and dance as well.

“You have to let that go, Mac. For your own sake. You have to find a way.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Oh fuck. Here come the waterworks. “Jamie…she’s…” Trying not to think of her has been impossible. I see her everywhere. “I’ve never met anyone who even came close to her.” I let the tears stream freely. “To be with her again, for a minute there, was like the best dream ever.”

Alan scoots closer and holds my hand.

“But that’s all it was in the end. All it could be. A dream.”

“She loves you, Mac. More than anything. That’s all I know.”

“This is not about love. She loved me then as well.”

“Can we make a deal?” He gives my hand a squeeze.

“Sure,” I manage to say in between sniffles.

“For as long as I’m here, you’re not allowed to refer to the past, to what happened twenty years ago. I’m not invalidating it, or your pain, but just try, Mac. Try living in the here and now for once.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

Alan shrugs. “Sure, but still. Give it a try. See how it makes you feel to not always have to relive that hurt again. It might surprise you.”

“Another thing I don’t know how to do.”

“You start with minute by minute,” Alan says. “Then hour by hour. Eventually, day by day. That’s how it works.” He grips my hand tightly again. “Imagine if you and Jamie didn’t have history and you’d met her at Sandra’s wedding for the first time.”

“I would never have slept with her,” I blurt out.

“Your loss, I’m sure.” Alan tries to hide his chuckle, but he doesn’t really succeed.

“Oh, Alan, you have no idea how good it is with her. With Jamie. That night in Maui.” I shake my head, because even though I was there, and we’ve been together many times since, all of them equally incredible, I can’t quite believe it either. “What hurts me the most is that we’re so damn good together.”

“Maybe in your own personal universe there’s a law that says it can no longer be like that, but out here in the real world, Mac, there are no such laws. If it feels so good, you’re the fool for denying yourself that kind of happiness.”

“Maybe.” It comes out all strangled and breathless because I’m still crying—and for what? For a love I can’t have even though it’s right there within my grasp?

Chapter 26

Jamie

I bake and I bake. I knead batch after batch of dough, until I can’t feel my arms anymore, and a persistent layer of flour is crusted under my fingernails. Making sourdough is a slow process and it allows me a lot of time to mull things over. Did I really bail on Mac again? In a way, I did, but what was I supposed to do? Should I have been more patient? I could have been. But I’m not the type to take things lying down like that—not even for Mac. I’m a woman of action. Someone who likes to take charge of things. Waiting for Mac to trample all over my heart with all her doubts and trepidations is not my style.

Perhaps I was also foolish enough, for a while there, to believe she might change her mind about me. Although, deep down, I knew she wouldn’t. I felt it even when we were in bed together, after those rare moments when she was able to let go of the past, and just be with me and enjoy what we had. Afterward, Mac always pulled away. She always raised her guard all the way up again and it hurt me more every single time.

I try to keep Sandra’s perspective in mind, however. It’s the only thing that keeps me from not overworking this dough until it’s no longer good for anything. Should I fight for Mac? And is the fact that I even have to ask myself that question not an answer in itself? But it’s okay that I’m not totally sold on the idea. I don’t have to be. It doesn’t have to be black-and-white like that—I don’t have to be so like Mac about it. I left her twenty years ago so I’m surely going to do that again—or odds are that I will. It’s such utter bullshit.

There’s just as much chance Mac would leave me, for whatever reason. That’s how life is. So many marriages end in divorce, for all kinds of reasons. All those couples who made vows to each other, and for what? I understand her fear but I don’t know how to address it. I can’t make her love me in the way that she needs in order to give us another chance. Because how do you prove that you can be trusted? It’s not possible and that’s the crux of her issue with me—with us.

What I can do, is make her a loaf of the best bread she’s ever had. I’ll even make it in the shape of a heart. Write a message on it. Just so she knows I’m thinking of her—and that I do love her.

The first text I get from Mac reads:

I loaf you? Really?

It’s quickly followed by another.

I’m still chuckling, by the way. I also really don’t want to cut into this bread. It’s too gorgeous.

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