“Yep.” Nash nodded. “It didn’t take me long to say yes. I mean, I didn’t have anyone in my life.” His eyes skittered over my face. “I know it makes me sound lame, but I was still thinking of you. Wishing that fate would bring us back together—somehow, someday.”
I let out a long breath. “And we were so close, Nash. Less than fifty miles apart.”
He grimaced. “Don’t remind me. If I had only known . . . well, anyway, I didn’t see anything or anyone in my future that would prevent me from marrying Lena and adopting Max. I already loved the kid. And if I could do something to give Lena an easier, more peaceful passing, knowing her family was safe and secure . . . why wouldn’t I have done that?”
“So you did it. You married Lena.”
“Yes, I did. We kept it simple, given her fragile health, and she managed to live almost another two years. We had some good times, and some very hard ones, too. But that was enough time for Max’s adoption to go through, and for Lena to be positive that her son was happy and loved.” He rolled one shoulder. “So that’s the story of my marriage—and how I became Max’s dad. He’s the greatest kid, Peyton. He’s happy and well-adjusted—he’s got a good career that he loves.”
“What does he do?” I asked.
“He’s a chef.” Nash positively beamed. “He works at a restaurant in Savannah. Hey, you might have eaten some of his food!”
I laughed. “Quite possibly. I do love to go out to eat.” Mimicking Nash’s question from yesterday morning, I held out my hand. “I want to see pictures.”
“Oh, sure.” Nash retrieved his phone and scrolled. “I don’t have a folder like you, but there are a few of us together, a couple with Reggie—” He cast me an apologetic half-smile. “We’re guys. We don’t go around taking pictures on the regular, you know?”
I was already swiping my fingers through Nash’s photo album, perusing his pictures. “Oh, my gosh, Nash, he’s a good-looking guy. And this one of the two of you—I love it. The way he’s looking at you . . .”
“Yeah, well.” Nash cleared his throat, accepting his phone from me. “My life hasn’t been exciting or wildly successful, but being Max’s dad is about the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I reached across to take both of his hands in mine. “You’re a good guy, Nash.Sucha good guy.” I sat back a little, still holding onto Nash. “You know, I have to admit that this weekend, I’ve been having a lot ofwhat ifthoughts—which I almost never let myself do.”
He smirked, sniffing. “I get that. A hundred percent.”
“I was thinking . . . what if I had gone to you instead of Ryan that night before graduation? What if when you’d suggested that we drive to Georgia right away and get married, I’d told you yes?” I let the waves of regret roll over me. “What if I’d broken up with Ryan back when I first realized I should have, before I got pregnant? What if you and I were together at the end of high school?”
Nash nodded. “A lot of could have beens, huh?”
“Yes, a lot,” I agreed. “But then I think . . . if I’d broken up with Ryan earlier, I wouldn’t have Charlie, and she’s the light of my life. And if I’d gone with you, and we’d gotten married, what would have happened to Lena and Max? You wouldn’t have your son, and Max wouldn’t have a wonderful father like you.”
The server chose that moment to drop off our drinks. I released Nash’s hands and waited until she’d left again.
“The road not taken . . . and all the alternate realities out there.” Nash took a long drink from his glass. “Do you think in one of those universes, you and I are together and have both of our kids, somehow?”
I shrugged. “Infinite possibilities exist, so I’d say yes.”
Nash rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, his eyes fastened on mine. “I want you to know, Peyton, that in none of those universes did I ever get over you. Even in a reality where anything is possible . . . that’s not. I loved you then, and this weekend has proven to me that I love you still.”
I stared at him, at his steadfast eyes, at the man who had never let me down, never betrayed my trust, never made me feel anything but beautiful and perfect. Thirty-five years was a long time, and we were different people, but somehow, it was eighteen-year-old Peyton who stretched her hand over to link her fingers with Nash’s as she whispered to him.
“Stay with me tonight.”
“This is goingto be an awkward question.” Nash laid his hands on my shoulders, brushing my hair back from my face. “And maybe I shouldn’t ask it now. Or ever. But . . . have you dated much?”
We were standing in my hotel room, both of us still fully dressed, facing each other at the foot of the bed. We’d left the bar after finishing our drinks, neither of us interested in anything but getting to a place where we’d have some privacy—together.
Now, I cast my eyes upward to the ceiling, considering Nash’s question. “I don’t know your definition, but whatever it is, the answer is probably no.” I narrowed my eyes, thinking. “For the first few years after Charlie was born, I didn’t have the time or energy for anything but being her mom and working where I could to help support us—to contribute to the household that Peg was maintaining. After she started school, there were guys here or there who flirted with me at the pick-up line—oh.” I giggled. “I just now got the irony of that. They were picking me up at the school pick-up line.”
Nash rolled his eyes. “Did you ever allow yourself to get picked up?”
“Nope.” I popped the P. “I wasn’t interested in them, and they were only interested in sex. Peg encouraged me to consider finding someone—she didn’t want me to feel that just because she was Ryan’s mother, I should feel uncomfortable finding love. But it just never happened.” I covered Nash’s hands with mine where they rested on my shoulders. “I had some friends with benefits over the years. One after Charlie had graduated and was in college—it was just easier then, more convenient. I never wanted a man to affect her childhood.”
“I can understand that.” Nash nodded.
“My friend—his name was Andy—was fine with our arrangement. It was no strings, no expectations—sex when it worked out for us, and companionship if we needed it. We each had dates to special occasions in the business community or with his civic work.”
“So what happened to Andy?” Nash asked.
