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“Actually,” she says, “I was going to suggest that you figure out what you want.”

I climb into the passenger seat and swallow hard as I turn my face to the window. “I already know what I want. It just doesn’t want me back.”

She throws the car into reverse and begins carefully backing out. “Did he love you?”

The lump in my throat is getting harder to form words around. “Yeah.”

“And you really think that just stops? Did it stop for you?”

“No, but he never did anything wrong.”

She reaches the exit and fumbles, scanning her ticket and inserting her credit card. It was so nice of her to come all the way here for me. She really shouldn’t have. “Did I ever tell you what I did to Jamie while we were engaged?”

I raise a brow. Lynn is a therapist—she wears sensible shoes and drives a Prius. “I’m guessing it didn’t involve trying to frame someone for drug possession so you could steal her boyfriend?”

“No, it’s worse,” she says as she pulls out. “I slept with his brother.”

I suck in a breath. Lynn and Jamie are the living definition of relationship goals. It’s just not possible. “You’re making that up.”

“It’s true. We weren’t even married yet, and I was drunk and high at this party, and Jamie and I had just fought about it. I stormed out and his brother followed me...” She stops for a moment, her voice catching. She’s been married for twenty years and it’s clearly still painful. “But he forgave me. And that’s what did it. I wanted him back so much that I’d have given up anything, and I just didn’t want to be that person anymore. I never used again.”

I sit with that. Could Beck forgive me? Is it possible?

“If Beck is what you want,” she says, “then don’t you owe it to yourself to try?”

My voice is a whisper. “What if he says no?”

“Then you wind up exactly where you are right now,” she says. “And we go from there.”

46

KATE

On the last Friday in February, I return to Elliott Springs to finalize the divorce. I stop on the way to see Rachel—though I’m really here to see Jane. I’ve come by a few times. It used to hurt a bit, but it no longer does. She’s her own little person. I can look at her without seeing Hannah.

“She’s gotten so big in the past month,” I say, taking Jane in my arms. “Aunt Kate is going to give you so much ski gear once you’re older.”

Jane clasps my index finger and gives me a toothless smile.

“Oh Lord,” sighs Rachel. “Don’t even start with that. Gus already bought her skis, for God’s sake. He’s convinced she’s the next Lindsay Vonn and she can’t evenwalk.”

I sit and bounce Jane on my knee. “I’m gonna have to leave in a minute, unfortunately. I hit more traffic than I expected on the way here.”

“I assume you’ll be okay today,” she begins, “but I’m happy to be there for moral support if you need me.”

I give her a small, grateful smile. “I’ll be fine.” Honestly, the only part of this that’s even sad is that after the papers are finalized—aside from visiting Rachel and Jane—I have no reason to come back.

She kicks my foot. “You should go by the bar.”

My eyes widen. “It’s almost creepy the way you knew I was thinking about him.”

Her smile is sad. “That’s because I suspect you think about little else. Neither does he. He’s been miserable since you left.”

Except, if he’s so miserable, why did he never reach out? He must be aware by now that I wasn’t meeting with Jeremy that day for nefarious reasons. Maybe he just can’t look past all the half-truths I told or the fact that it took me so long to figure out that he’s what I want, and I can hardly blame him. I jerked him around for too long.

I could grovel, but I doubt it would help. And I’d rather not know how he feels than know for certain he feels nothing at all. The bleak, empty thing in his eyes when he said he was done with me? I don’t ever want to see that look again.

* * *

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