Page 6 of Still the One

“You would think so,” is all Alan says.

“Are you and her still thick as thieves?” I look him in the eye. I might no longer hold it against Alan that he chose Jamie over me, that doesn’t mean I haven’t missed him.

“Oh, yes.” He scrunches his lips into the infamous Alan pout. “I really tried to keep in touch with you, Mac, but… over time, it just didn’t happen.”

“He’s been beating himself up over that so much as we approached this wedding.” Charles lovingly pats his husband on the shoulder.

“It’s okay.” I was so angry for such a long time, I made myself pretty much unreachable by working all the time. My career soared; my private life not so much. “As you said last night, it’s all water under the bridge now. Although seeing Jamie again is so…” I huff out some air. My gaze darts to the restaurant entrance and, as if I conjured her up by saying her name, there she is. Jamie’s hair’s messy and she’s barely wearing any clothes apart from something long and baggy hanging off her shoulders.

Alan and Charles turn to follow my gaze. Charles gets up and ushers Jamie toward us.

“You look like you had a rough night,” Alan says as he sends her a warm smile.

“Must be jet lag.” Jamie pins her gaze on me briefly but glances away quickly, as though she can’t look at me properly in the morning light. “I couldn’t get to sleep until the early hours.”

“Then jet lag must have a reverse effect on you.” Alan eyes Jamie.

“You know I keep odd hours,” Jamie says.

“Let’s get you some coffee.” Charles throws an arm around Jamie’s shoulders and gives her a squeeze. He’s such a sweet man.

“Thank you, darling.” Jamie blows Charles a kiss while he pours her a cup of coffee, then she finally looks at me properly. “Turns out seeing you again is much more of a mind fuck than I had anticipated.”

What am I supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? I don’t think so—because I’m not. Because I didn’t do anything wrong.

“Same.” I glance at Jamie’s exhausted face. She looks vulnerable. Shaken.

“Can we talk today? Before everything kicks off?” she asks. “Have a proper conversation?”

I guess it’s inevitable, although the last thing I came here for was to open up old wounds—to pick at scar tissue that took forever to grow. Because I might not have known then, but Jamie did so much more than break my heart. She stole my biggest dream as well.

“Sure.”

“After breakfast?” Jamie manages a small smile. “As soon as I’ve put myself together?”

“Okay.” Why am I feeling sorry for her? The one emotion I vowed to myself I’d never associate with her ever again.

“Thank you.” Her dark gaze lingers on mine for a moment before she takes a slice of bread and examines it from all sides. “Doesn’t look too bad.” She squeezes the crust between her thumb and index finger. “Hm,” she says, before tearing off a piece and putting it in her mouth. She chews slowly, as though she’s tasting the most delicate of products—to her, it is. And I can’t believe it but, as I look at her, as I take in Jamie Sullivan in all her weary, unguarded glory—as I see who she is and who she has become—my wretched heart skips a beat.

Chapter 4

Jamie

“Thanks for coming.” I let Mac into my room. She’s dressed as though she’s just come from the gym, although her skin is glowing and sweat-free. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water. It’s going to be a long day and I want to go for a swim after this.” She sounds casual, as though having this long overdue chat with me is just something to tick off her to-do list.

I grab two bottles of water from the minibar and lead us onto the balcony overlooking the ocean. The water is so blue it seems to dissolve into the sky.

“It’s gorgeous here, isn’t it?” Mac leans against the railing. “So colorful compared to New York.”

“It sure is.” Now that she’s here, I no longer have eyes for the splendor outside. Even though it was a shock to see her on TV the first time, it was no surprise that Mac made it onto the daily news to cover sports. She has the kind of open, friendly face that no one can ever get enough of, that no living soul could ever mind seeing on a daily basis. “How are you, Mac?” I ask.

She turns to me and narrows her eyes. “I get why you didn’t get much sleep last night. It’s, um… a lot.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Only because I was exhausted with work and the time difference.”

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