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I drove all this way to get blown off.
Heforgotwe were supposed to meet. And, why is he so dressed up? Why issheso dressed up?
I catch sight of the hotel’s restaurant as I lurch toward the revolving doors. I don’t know how I know, but I do—they’re heading to dinner.Together.
I can see other couples in there, conversing over flickering candle light. The restaurant’s tables are lined in white cloth. The lights are dim. I’m guessing something acoustic is trilling out over cleverly disguised surround-sound speakers, tucked up in the ceiling near fake potted plants.
Cold, night air washes over my cheeks. I swipe at my eyes, clearing a few tears that snuck out. When I start up my Prius, I draw in a deep, shaky breath. Then another. And as I let them out, I notice a feeling squirming into my body, and nestling in next to the oodles of shame filling me.
Relief.
Like some part of me knew Mortimer and that woman were having a thing, but I was ignoring it. Denying it.
My powers of denial are truly impressive, it seems. I really did a number on myself.
But seeing the two of them come out of the elevator like that… and seeing the way they looked at each other…
I can’t ignore what I just saw with my own eyes. It was like the Starbucks situation, but amplified. They were practically shouting in my face that they’re a couple.
How did I miss this, before?
I know how. Iwantedto miss it.
I’m an idiot,I think again, as I roll past a lineup of sleek cars with plates from all over the tri-state area.
When I hit the main stretch of road, I roll the windows way down and stick my arm out. Wind tugs at my hair, pulling it free. I let it swirl around me. The brisk air dries a few more of my tears. When I turn on the radio, a love song is playing.
Typically, I hate love songs. They’re full of stuff that’s just not true about love—in my humble, if educated opinion.
Love—real love—is about commitment and dedication.
Enduring ups and downs.
Digging in and getting to know a person, with all their messy problems and quirks. Sticking with them and growing with them. Deep caring. Deep trust. Deep friendship.That’swhat love is.
I thought I was heading for all that with Mortimer. I thought with a few little tweaks, we could get right back on the path toward a committed, mature relationship that would last us a lifetime.
Sure, we weren’t there yet. We never clicked, really. But I figured we’d get there… one day.
It looks like I was wrong about that.
As wind tugs at my hair and music swirls through the car, I reach up for the ring I wear around my neck.
It’s the engagement ring that my great-grandfather gave to my great-grandmother. He made it by cutting and bending a spoon to fit perfectly around her finger. They didn’t have money to spend on something extra like jewelry, but that didn’t matter to either of them. She wore this ring for seventy years.
I knew her for a few of those. She lit up every time she talked about my great-grandpa, who passed away a couple years before I was born.
Then, when she passed away, she left the ring to me.
I’ll wear it, one day.
I thought for sure Mortimer would be the man to give it to me.
When I hit the highway, I ease the windows up and set cruise-control.
By the time I make it to Pines Peak, my tears have dried. I drop my speed to 25 and crawl down Main Street. The sight of that tilted, neon, amber-hued beer mug jutting out from the roof of the Tipsy Tavern makes me tap the breaks.
Parker’s working.
