Page 55 of Still the One

“The difference is that I’m the one who caused it.” I can look Mac in the eye and say that now.

“Still, it must have hurt like hell.” She takes my hand fully in hers, enveloping it, as though she wants to keep it safe from something.

“It did.” This moment is so beautiful, with my hand wrapped in Mac’s, and the both of us being able to acknowledge our hurt, it repairs something inside of me.

“I made a lot of mistakes too.” She slants her head, then cradles my hand tighter in hers. “God, Jamie, I should have forgiven you years ago. I should have taken you back after your thing with Cherry ended. I should have—”

“Mac,” I interrupt her. “You couldn’t. I know this because you would have if you’d been able to, but, ironically, I think, because of the depth of our love, because of how incredibly good we were together, you couldn’t just do that.”

Her eyes are moist.

“Besides,” I continue, “it doesn’t matter anymore now. Those years have gone by. Time has been relentless. Speaking of…” It’s probably a good idea to lighten the mood a bit. “Your big Five Oh is just around the corner.”

Mac huffs out some air. “I didn’t really mind that I’m about to turn fifty, because I’ve done a lot of the things I wanted to do in my life, but…” The sadness that lurks in her voice might very well be one I can never relieve. “I mean, realistically, forty was already kind of a cut-off date, but there were still options. Now that I’m on the cusp of fifty, it’s definitive. Not that I even want to become a mother now, but it’s quite the harsh reminder of what I wanted and the one thing I didn’t do with my life.”

So much for lightening the mood. Maybe bringing up Mac’s upcoming fiftieth wasn’t the best of moves, considering. But there has to be room for regret—no one lives a life without it.

A silence falls and we both let it envelop us. I, too, think about all the things I didn’t have, but also about all the things I do.

“You know what I want for my birthday?” Mac says after a while.

“An I-loaf-you loaf?” I joke.

“Aside from that, obviously, and perhaps also some of your infamous carrot cake.” A smile has reappeared on her face, like the sun breaking through the clouds after days of drizzle. “I want to go away with you. Just the two of us. Do you think that place on Rockaway Beach still exists?”

Is she referring to the spot where I asked her to marry me?

“I can look it up right now.” My tone is hesitant. Do we really want to revisit that specific memory?

“It’s probably nothing like how I remember it,” Mac says. “But I’d like to see for myself.”

“Whatever you want, babe.” I put my free hand on hers. “It’s your birthday.”

“Before that, however, I think I should take you home. To my mother.”

“Oh, damn.” I may smile, but Suzanne was always a formidable force. I never spoke to her again, but it was easy enough to imagine how she felt about me after what I did. “I’m not sure I’m ready to charm Suzanne.”

“You’ll never be ready, but it’s best to get it over with.” Is Mac delighting in this?

“Okay. I’ll face Suzanne. Bring it on.”

“I’ve been working on her,” Mac says. “Smoothing the path for the moment you see each other again.”

“That’s a relief,” I lie.

“Her bark’s always been worse than her bite.” Mac is definitely having fun with this.

“Please, stop,” I say, although facing Mac’s mother is a small price to pay for being back in her life—for the chance to be with her again and not fuck up this time.

Chapter 31

Mac

My mother is neither demure, nor predictable—especially when it comes to her reaction to Jamie. I’m not as nervous as Jamie, who’s doing a fairly good job of keeping her cool, but I’m not as relaxed as usual when I go to see my mom. But it’s my birthday celebration and my mother always wants to make me feel like a million bucks for the occasion.

I might have been a latchkey kid who learned to prepare a makeshift dinner by the age of twelve—this is why I dislike cooking to this day—but birthdays were always a big deal in our family of two. My mother always made me feel like a princess, no matter how busy she was.

We’re sitting in the car outside my mom’s house.

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