Page 40 of Still the One

“Hm.” This place doesn’t feel like Mac at all—not like the Mac I used to know, anyway. “Sure.”

If my lack of enthusiasm for her glitzy decor irks her, she doesn’t show it. Maybe she doesn’t care what I think. At least she hasn’t kicked me out yet.

I can tell she’s mulling something over. I hope it’s not a repeat of the question she asked me when she came over to my place last week.

“Just spit it out.” When I look at her, a smile blooms on my face, regardless of which difficult question she may throw at me. Mac looks magnificent in the morning light. Her eyes are bluer than I remember even though I don’t know how that’s possible.

“I’ve been wondering if twenty years of hindsight have given you any new insight into why, um, you left me. If there was some other subconscious reason that you could only know afterward.”

There aren’t any easy questions with Mac, that’s for sure. Although this one I’ve pondered plenty of times myself, because I so wish there had been another reason for leaving her other than my stupid, love-drug-addled brain. Maybe then it wouldn’t have hurt so much.

I shake my head. “No.”

“It was really just Cherry and all her charms?” It’s impossible for Mac to say Cherry’s name without it sounding like the vilest curse word. “I didn’t inadvertently push you into things you didn’t really want? You could have had a family without me, for instance, but you didn’t.”

“It took me quite some time to get my act together after you. Before I knew it, my thirties were over.”

“You could still have had kids in your forties,” Mac says.

“But I didn’t. It was never the right time and…” The truth is that I never wanted kids with anyone other than Mac. My dream was always to raise tiny humans alongside her. Her enthusiasm infected me and her dreams easily became mine, but they were also inextricably linked with her. “It never happened.”

“Can you imagine a little version of you? A little boy with bangs like yours.” Mac chuckles.

“How about a mini you?” Even though it’s not real, the potential adorableness is almost impossible to bear.

“Sometimes I sit in this chair, in my swanky bachelorette pad, and think about the four kids I wanted. Not often, but sometimes my mind can’t help but go there, you know?”

The sudden sadness in Mac’s voice breaks my heart. “I’m sorry.” There’s nothing else I can say.

“It’s not your fault. I have to accept that. I could have had kids. I could have done it on my own, but I didn’t have the guts… At the time, I just really wanted someone by my side for it, which is understandable, although I do regret it sometimes. Look at my mom. She did it all on her own and I turned out not too bad.” She scoffs. “If I’d had a kid by myself, she would have moved to the city to help me, but I didn’t want her to do that. She’s already done so much for me.”

“My dad didn’t speak to me for an entire month after I left you,” I say, now that we’re on the subject of parents.

“I know. For weeks, he called me every other day to check on me.”

“He was absolutely livid. And rightly so.”

“Still, he’s your dad. He should have taken your side.”

“Nobody took my side, Mac. Not even my parents. No one.”

“Well, you had Cherry.”

“My dad would be over the moon to see you again,” I say, because I don’t want to talk about Cherry. “My mom as well.”

“Have you told them that we’ve seen each other?”

“They knew you’d be at Sandra’s wedding so, yes. Did you speak to your mom about me?”

“We’re still very close. I tell her almost everything, so yeah.”

“When you say ‘almost everything…’” I pry.

“I didn’t tell her we slept together. Some things, she doesn’t have to know.” Mac sends me a smile. “My mom always really liked you. She was devastated when we broke up. She was there for me but, sometimes, when I could see beyond the self-pity I was wallowing in, I could tell it really hurt her to see me like that. But you know my mom. She’s been single most of her life and her dream for me has only ever been that I’m happy with what I have. Not that I was in a stable relationship and had a bunch of kids. And I have been happy.” Mac manages another smile. “That’s what my mom told me as well. It’s not because your dreams don’t come true that you can’t be happy or satisfied or fulfilled. So many things can make your life good, and I have a good life. I really do.”

“I’m glad.” I could sit here for hours with Mac. Looking at her and catching up. Maybe end up back in bed. “What are you doing today?”

“Working,” she says matter-of-factly. “If you want to see me tonight, you’ll have to switch on your television.”

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