Despite the warmth of her slight frame against me, I went cold at the realization. My throat was so tight that I worried I wouldn’t be able to speak. That was probably a good thing. It would keep me from begging her to change her mind when the time came.
But then Bonnie choked out brokenly, “Danny’s mom died,” and all those what-ifs dissolved in the face of her unexpected announcement.
Her fingers tightened on the back of my shirt, so I ran my hand down her spine in a soothing gesture. “I’m so sorry,” I managed.
Bonnie had been with her ex since they were kids. She’d probably been in his family’s life just as long. This was obviously a difficult loss for her. Likely made all the more complicated due to her divorce.
“What do you need?” I asked softly.
She pulled back abruptly at my words, her face creased with worry and damp with sorrow. “I need to tell you something. Diane—Danny’s mom—she had cancer. She’d been in remission for years, but it came back, and she was at home with hospice. A while ago, Danny came to see me at work to ask me to visit her. So I did. I went to see her every week—without Danny there. I brought some of her favorite dishes to try to get her to eat. But we all knew the end was coming.”
I absorbed this and tried not to feel the weight of deception. Bonnie was grieving, and this wasn’t really the time to question her motives. But I still asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, looking down at her lap where she clutched one of my hands like she needed to keep me from pulling away. “I guess I thought you’d be disappointed in me. Or think I was being too nice or stretching myself too thin. But Diane was like a mother to me, Jack. I’ve known her since I was fourteen years old. I love—loved her a lot. Danny’s father, too.”
“I’m not your keeper, Bonnie.”
“I know. And it’s not fair, the way I assumed that. I guess I got really good at predicting the sticky spots in my marriage—the things that would push buttons or cause a fight—and did whatever I could to avoid them and keep the peace. It was wrong of me to apply that to my relationship with you. You’ve never once tried to manage my time or tell me what to do.”
I nodded, ignoring the ache that caused in my middle, the comparison to her ex. But I understood. I knew there wasn’t a deceptive bone in her body. The omission had been intentional but not malicious. And I wasn’t the type of person who needed to know where she was at all times anyway. I’d never understood couples like that. Why would you bother being in a relationship if you couldn’t trust someone?
It hurt that she hadn’t leaned on me, though. Knowing she’d been visiting a dying woman and bearing that burden alone made me wish she’d been comfortable enough to tell me.
The situation with Danny’s mother hadn’t affected me directly. Not really.
The guilt I’d been dealing with since Danny’s last visit to the bar reared its ugly head. That conversation had Bonnie stamped all over it, and I’d kept it from her, to protect myself, to extend my time with her.
“Danny came to see me at the bar,” I blurted in a fit of guilt.
Bonnie’s pain gave way to confusion. It was my turn to clutch her hand like a lifeline.
“He tried to warn me away from you,” I admitted. “Talked a bunch of shit, but ultimately I think he realized that he”—I took a steadying breath—“he wants you back, Bonnie. He knows he fucked up, and it took knowing you were with someone else to get him to make a move. I know I should have told you, but I just ... couldn’t.”
I’d been selfish. Withholding that information had allowed me to keep her a little longer. Realizing she had the knowledge now, and the fear of what she’d do with it, had all my muscles goingtaut. It was like awaiting the executioner’s blade. It was only a matter of time.
“It’s okay, Jack. Knowing wouldn’t have changed anything. Danny—he’s been texting and calling, trying to get in touch with me. I’ve been ignoring him,” she rushed to add, and something in me went cold. “But tonight, he chased me out to the parking lot and told me he’d made a mistake. That he promised his mother before she died that he’d fix things between the two of us. That he wants me back.”
I slid my hand out of hers. “I see.”
Maybe Danny wasn’t as much of a coward as I’d assumed, if he’d been trying to pin her down for a while now. And of course, he was using his mother’s dying wish to his advantage. I shouldn’t be surprised. Cornering Bonnie when she was emotional and vulnerable.
I shook my head. “So that’s it, I guess.”
“What?” Bonnie asked, baffled.
“You get your life back,” I clarified.
“Are you serious right now? Why would I—how could I ever want that back?”
“The reasons you said. You didn’t want to start over and throw away the years you’d spent building a life, a family, a marriage.” The words came easily, like a pledge repeated over and over again. A reminder of why she and I were always going to be temporary.
“The reallyunhealthymarriage, where I was miserable and with someone who I’d grown apart from?” Bonnie’s eyes were brightand incredulous. “I don’t want Danny. I want you, Jack. How can you not see that?”
“But you said?—”
“Months ago!” she exploded. “When I was drunk and vulnerable on the day my divorce was final. Are you holding me to that? After everything that’s happened with us? Opinions change. Feelings change. Time passes. I couldn’t possibly want him because I want you! I love you!”
For a moment, I let her declaration wash over me. The aching truth that this woman loved me back. That she could care about me that way. Like I might just be worth it.
