If you need to move on, move on.
Don’t dawdle.
—Grandma Gladys, The Duchess
J
ENNIFER CRIED FOR THREE DAYS
. T
HIS MORNING SHE
moved like a zombie and wished she lacked a heart like one.
Heather shoved a bowl of granola in front of her sister. “Jennifer, you have to eat something.”
Tracie hovered in the doorway with her keys in her hand. “I can go out and get—”
“I’m not hungry.” Jennifer appreciated the concern and the coddling, but she needed to grieve. And the idea of eating made her queasy. Doing anything sounded pretty awful.
“This isn’t healthy.” Heather played with the spoon, letting it clank against the side of the bowl.
“And you’re the dumper, not the dumpee.”
Heather shot their friend a wide-eyed, what-the-hell look. “Tracie, that’s not helping.”
“It’s the truth.” Tracie took the seat across from Jennifer. “Isn’t this what you want? You asked for space, and he gave it to you. I don’t see the problem.”
“Yes . . .” Jennifer shook her head. “No.”
Leaving Paul had never been the point. Hurting him burned a hole through her stomach. The tightness across his cheeks and pained expression on his lips. She had a hard time handling all of it.
The second he’d stepped into the bedroom after their argument and shut her out, all she wanted to do was run to him and apologize. Only the fear of sending him a horrible mixed message and cutting him even deeper had kept her rooted to the same spot in his kitchen for hours.
She’d waited until the snow piled up and the wind howled. When he finally slipped into the bathroom without looking at her, she’d snuck out with only her clothes and her purse.
He’d had Neil deliver the stuff she’d left at his house. Seeing the bag sitting just inside her front door had touched off a second round of regret and dragging despair.
“If you can’t love him back you need to let him move on.”
Tracie repeated the same theory Jennifer said over and over in her own head. It proved just as frustrating when it came from someone else.
“I have to agree on this one.” Heather took Jennifer’s hand and squeezed until she got eye contact. “Look, I adore Paul. Hell, I’ve pushed you together since you were fifteen. But there’s clearly a disconnect between you. Something you’re not getting. It might be kinder to let him go.”
Jennifer wanted to work up a good case of fury against her sister and fight off her words, then lash out at the world. Instead, she told the truth. “When I’m with him, it’s perfect.”
“It is not,” Tracie shot back.
This was the part Jennifer couldn’t explain even to herself. Paul was right that she pushed him and kept at it until their words blew into a full-fledged fight. But in those quiet moments when they were making dinner or snuggling on the couch, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Her dreams dropped away. And that’s what scared the hell out of her.
They were too immature and untested to head into a lifetime that came with settling down too early. They needed to grow, and she prayed they’d someday weave their lives back together. More importantly, she hoped he would see her points and ultimately forgive her for pushing him aside.
“It’s when I try something new, like when we went to that oxygen bar, or when I go out for drinks with people from work, or meet an executive from an advertising firm and he asks me out.” She searched for the right way to say it. “It’s like for that split second I’m tempted to be someone else.”
Tracie’s eyes narrowed in the disapproving scowl she’d perfected as the older sister of four brothers. “So all of this is because you want to date other people?”
Jennifer shook her head. That’s the part that never fit together in her mind. “No.”
“Are you sure?” Tracie asked.
“I would never cheat on Paul.”
“Then what?” Tracie spun the full cereal bowl around on the table.
Jennifer barely heard the thumping as the edges hit the wood. “I can’t figure out why it’s always so hard for us.”
“Maybe it’s not supposed to be easy.” Heather reached out and grabbed the bowl, putting it out of handling distance. “Maybe a relationship worth keeping takes more than that.”
“Probably.” Jennifer just said the word to fill in the gap.
“Isn’t that what the Duchess always told us? You put the time in and get out so much more.”
Tracie pressed her lips together. “Or maybe you’re just not ready.”
Jennifer picked the option that didn’t carry a weight of guilt and judgment. If the answer depended on measure of effort, that would mean she really did bail, just as Paul accused her of doing. “I think that’s it.”
Tracie glanced at Heather before she spoke. “Then let him go and move on. You both deserve that.”
They did. She did. He certainly did. But knowing and acting were two different things for Jennifer. “I don’t know if I can.”
Neil sat down at the opposite end of the couch and handed a beer to Paul. The game blared on the television and snacks littered the coffee table in front of them.
It was the first time Paul had ventured out of the house to do more than work or shovel out the driveway as his rental agreement required. Neil’s house was safe. It was a Jennifer-free space. No photos of her. No memories of her there, since she’d never been inside.
Beer, a remote control and unhealthy food. The place was a guy’s haven. Now if Paul could only get his best friend to stop looking at him like a worried grandmother.
“What?” Paul asked without taking his eyes off the screen.
“You okay?”
“Do I look okay?”
“Kind of like dogshit, actually.”
Paul smiled at that one. He knew it was true. He barely recognized the unshaven guy who greeted him in the mirror that morning. “Thanks.”
“Look, this isn’t a big deal.” Neil shifted in his seat and balanced his arm on the back of the couch.
“Did you miss the part where she left me because I’m . . . forget it. I really don’t know what the issue was.” Paul had lost count of the number of times he turned their conversations over his head, trying to find the answer. Trying to figure out a way to keep her from walking out on him in search of something better.
“It’s what you guys do.”
Paul stared at his friend. “What the hell does that mean?”
Neil held up his hands as if ready to block any blows that came his way. “Only that you guys have broken up before. This is not new.”
Paul balanced the bottle on his lap and leaned his head against the cushion behind him. “Not by my choice.”
“Yeah, well, women tend to drive these things. The good news is she keeps circling back around to you.”
“Not this time.”
“Come on. That’s the beer talking.”
“She’s moving on.”
The thought of her with another guy, of someone else spending time with her, watching movies with her on the couch. Another man touching her body and kissing those lips. The visual images drove him to madness.
Letting her walk out meant conceding she would go to another guy eventually. His brain fought the possibility as his stomach heaved.
“You don’t know that you’re over.” Neil peeled the label on his bottle. “Besides, Jennifer strikes me as faithful.”
“When we’re together, sure.”
“See?”
“We’re not now.”
“You’ve thought that before.”
“It feels different.” The break-up sat on his chest, pressing him down until he nearly choked from the force of it.
“How?”
Maybe they never said the actual words, but her eyes had said good-bye. “Not sure.”
“Then—”
“I can’t figure out how to hold onto her with a grip that doesn’t scare the crap out of her.”
Or how to let her go.
There it was. They couldn’t come up with a way to stay together, but their connection of years and memories refused to let them break apart in a clean and tolerable way.
“You met young,” Neil said.
“That seems like it should be a good thing.” Paul spent a lot of time wondering if he’d known then the never-ending sensual dance they would engage in throughout the years, how Jennifer would take his heart and never stop squeezing, if he would have walked away when Heather tried to introduce them. It was a matter of self-preservation.
Neil scoffed. “Nothing good comes out of high school. You of all people should know that.”
“School sucked, and I sucked at it.”
“Yeah, you had other things on your mind. Like figuring out where to sleep and how you were going to eat.”
Paul refused to dwell on those dark days. Being adopted and handed a bad hand was no excuse. Other people had it worse and got by. He survived and vowed never to hide behind the tough times or let them color everything else. Despite everything, he’d kept that promise.
Except where Jennifer was concerned. He couldn’t puzzle through her no matter how hard he tried. “But I’m a grown man now. I should be able to figure this out.”
“Do you forget there’s a woman involved? Bless their sexy little bodies, but they are pure trouble.”
“No kidding.”
“They twist you up . . . man, they hold all the power, and that bugs the shit out of me.”
“I can’t take it anymore.”
“I know, dude.” Neil shook his head in a moment of male-to-male sympathy.
Paul reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed a folded piece of colored paper to Neil. “Check this out.”
“What is it?”
“Scratch off lottery ticket.”
Neil smoothed it out and stared at it. Then his eyes widened. “Sweet damn, you won.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
Neil’s smile froze. “What do you mean?”
“She dumps me and I get ten thousand dollars.”
“Maybe your luck is turning.”
“Doubt it.”
Neil threw the ticket on the table. “Then maybe it’s the universe’s way of giving you a consolation prize.”
Paul had already come to that conclusion. “I’d rather have the girl.”
Try new things, grab every opportunity
but stay true to who you are.
—Grandma Gladys, The Duchess
T
HEY HADN’T
OFFICIALLY DATED FOR MONTHS
. J
ENNIFER
symbolically cut the ties with Paul by moving out of her apartment and into a cozy cottage on a tree-lined street in Toronto. The small space was soothing and warm.
Heather and Tracie joined in the start-over relocation. They’d packed up everything they owned, painted the walls in calming blue tones, and filled the rooms with a mix of flea market finds and family hand-me-downs.
Tonight the usually quiet house was packed. Music thumped in the background, and cool air moved through the open front and back door.
Tracie loved to celebrate her birthday big and this year was no exception. Men gathered on the back patio around the beer and argued about a play in some game that Jennifer didn’t care about. A few couples wandered in and out of the kitchen carrying small plates and whispering with their heads close together as couples tend to do.
Tracie grabbed Jennifer’s arm before she could try a piece of cake. They moved into the small hallway that led to the bedrooms. Tracie’s sense of urgency had Jennifer worrying something awful had happened.
“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Paul.”
Just hearing his name sent a shot of longing spinning through her. He claimed that she was cold and distant, that she cut him off and didn’t care about his feelings. Maybe she deserved the emotional beating, but she never felt the detachment he accused her of.
She’d spent hours pouring over photos and remembering the good times. More than once she had to put down the phone and walk out of the room to keep from calling him.
But Tracie knew how much Jennifer missed him and wouldn’t mention his name with good reason. “What are you talking about?”
“I think she’s apologizing for me showing up before she could warn you.” Paul’s deep voice broke into the intimate girl chat.
Jennifer’s head shot up. She took in his jeans and black blazer, the hair ruffled by the breeze and shoulders broad enough to block out the room behind him. The color in his face made him look sun-kissed despite the chilly early spring days. Whatever he did with his time now, he did most of it outside. It suited him because he looked calmer than she’d seen him in a long time.