“I’ve been better. But I’m okay,” I admit.
His brow twists, and his lips twitch. “I don’t like that answer.”
“Well,” I breathe. “Maybe I should have taken my own advice that you took all those years ago.”
He nods slowly, understanding without knowing. But I’m sure he can see it written all over my face. He can see it inmy stylish yet appropriate dress. My moderate makeup and my reasonably sized heels. I’m sure he can see it in the purse of my lips and the cinch of my shoulders. Years ago, I settled into a boring life with someone who is kind and worthy but doesn’t know how to love me.
“You never called me back,” he says finally.
“Have you held it against me?”
He smiles. “I’ve been bitter for years.”
I press my lips together, biting back a smile, unsure what to say because I wish I had answered when he called. I hope I hadn’t convinced myself it was a fever dream that could never be replicated. Because now, twelve years, two kids, and ten years of marriage later, he still crosses my mind.
Even during the good years John and I had. Because we did have those. Even when John and I fell madly in love. Because we did that, too. But even in all the good, there was always something in my twisted human emotions beckoning me back to the night I spent at the Fairmont Hotel in a room with a man whose name I had guessed but didn’t know.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back,” I confess with a breath, then step closer as I speak. “Maybe one day—”
“Mommy!” Suzy squeals as she leaps into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Henry follows.
I let out a laugh as Isaac smiles at my children, no doubt assessing all the ways time can be measured. In children. In professions. In homes. In morning coffee and midnight kisses. In moments and in memories.
“Isaac, these are my kids, Suzy and Henry.”
Isaac squats down to high-five them. Henry high-fives him back, and Suzy curtsies, so he laughs and then bows.
“Daddy said it’s time to go,” Suzy informs me.
My brow twists, knowing the party has just begun. But of course, John wants to leave and get the kids home and in bed ata reasonable hour. Heaven forbid we veer off our routine at our niece’s wedding.
“Anna, I’m going to pull the car around.” John appears in the doorway and then realizes I’m speaking to someone. “Hi there, John Collins.”
Isaac shakes John’s outstretched hand, and I’m confident this is actually the fever dream. “Isaac Brooks.”
“He owns the winery.” I nearly wince at my watered-down answer.
“Oh, nice. Well, the wedding has been amazing. Thank you.” John turns to me. “Be at the car in five?”
I nod, pressing my lips together as he takes our kids’ hands back through the reception room. I turn back to Isaac, and I can tell he just watched the interaction with curious eyes. I know he saw how cold it was. There was no kiss. No hand on my back. No touching. Just pure ice in our expressions.
“You good?” he asks, the memory of his voice vibrating over me.
“I haven’t been good in years.” I laugh, then tuck a strand of my hair being blown away in the wind behind my ear. “We’re getting a divorce—just saving face for the sake of my niece.”
Isaac nods. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” I laugh again, relief flooding my bones. “I’m really not. It has been a long time coming.”
He steps closer to me. “I want to say the right thing right now, and I’m not sure I know how.”
“It’s okay, Isaac. Truly. I didn’t expect to see you, and you didn’t expect to see me...” my voice falters over my words because I don’t know how to say what I’m truly feeling.
“Right,” he agrees. “But maybe one day...”
“Yeah, maybe.” I smile, understanding his implication while thinking,I hope so. “I promised I wouldn’t forget you, Isaac. I kept that promise.”
His blue eyes glisten in the twinkling lights strung over the patio. He smiles and says, “You’ll be okay, Anna. People like you don’t take life lightly. They soak up every last bit of it. I don’t know you as well as I want to, but there was a fire in you that was hard to miss.”
