“But you did hurt me.”
“I know.” He gulped. “I get that now, with the gift of distance, but at the time, it seemed like the only thing to do. To make a clean break. To forget about you and let you move on with your life, which you did.”
“Yeah, I did.” Darby was thoughtful for a moment. “What about you? You never married? You never found love?”
His dark eyes misted with emotion. “I found love. I just lost her.”
Darby let out a small gasp.
“It’s always been you, Darby. I lost you once. Now I’ve found you, and I will do whatever it takes to convince you that we’re meant to be. Love like this isn’t a coincidence. I made a huge mistake when we were younger, and I’ve had to live with that regret every day since. You went on to love deeply and lost him. I think our problem has been about timing. This is our time now.”
TWENTY-FIVE
HILARY
Hilary’s day had gone a bit better. She had appeased the mayor (at least temporarily) by inviting him to give a speech at the Santa breakfast. Who knew how long that would last? Thus far, the business community had rallied around her, but she didn’t trust the mayor.
The house was dark when Hilary got home. She had expected Ben to be waiting for her.
Maybe he had a late client.
She flipped on the lights and turned up the heat. She walked down the hallway lined with family photos. So many memories hanging from the off-white walls. The twins on miniature skis from their first outing on Mt. Bachelor before they had barely mastered walking. Summer hikes. Taking the plunge off Paulina Falls. Birthdays with homemade cakes that Ben had stayed up all night painstakingly decorating Clone Troopers and Littlest Pet Shop characters with colored buttercream piped from a star-tipped nozzle. His hand was numb for days, but the twins’ reaction to their cakes had made it all worth it.
The last collection of photos in the gallery was from graduation.
Graduation.
Hilary clutched her chest.
Her heart fluttered in strange, uneven beats, making it hard to catch her breath.
Why did she still feel paralyzed by the memory?
They’d been gone for four months. She should have some perspective by now, but just seeing their grinning faces in their red-and-white caps and gowns made Hilary’s knees buckle. She grabbed the wall to steady herself and went into the kitchen.
The kitchen was Ben’s domain. Hilary viewed cooking and baking as necessary but took no joy from laboring over the stove for hours, sautéing veggies. On the other hand, Ben would gladly accept an entire Saturday prepping a four-course meal. She used to tease him that he had made the wrong career choice.
“Don’t you find it funny that you’re a personal trainer focused on health and fitness and spend your days off baking chocolate cakes and cherry pies?” she would say, sipping a glass of pinot while Ben slathered dark chocolate ganache between layers of sponge.
“It’s my balance point.” He would wink across the island. “Drink your wine. You know you’re going to enjoy the fruits of my labors.”
That was true. She had partly fallen for him because of his kitchen talents. His talents in the bedroom had been equally impressive. She chalked that up to the fact that he got paid to work out daily.
Ben was attractive. There was no denying that, even more so these days. Hilary’s hair was dry and brittle, falling out at a precarious rate, making her wonder if she’d have any hair left by the time she turned fifty. She didn’t sleep at night. Ben’s head hit the pillow, and five minutes later, a cacophony of snores erupted from his side of the bed while Hilary stared at the ceiling and listened to sleep hypnosis soundtracks on repeat.
She was tired, cranky, and always on edge. Her perimenopausal friends complained about the same things—their fluctuating hormones, hot flashes, headaches, and insomnia. Meanwhile, the subtle pops of gray in Ben’s hair and stubble gave him a roughish mountain look. He seemed to be aging in reverse and oblivious to Hilary’s struggles.
That was Ben, though. He lived in his own bubble. Their interests and skills complemented each other. Hilary was organized, hence why she had ended up as president of the PTA and head of the senior party grad night committee. She helped the twins with their bio-chem and geometry homework while Ben baked confetti cupcakes for school carnivals and fundraisers. Their marriage had never been traditional in terms of gender roles. That was another thing Hilary appreciated about Ben. He wasn’t bothered about being an alpha male. He got enough of that energy at the gym.
Why have you been so cold to him?
She poured herself a glass of merlot and opened a can of soup. While the soup was heating, Hilary checked her phone—no messages from Ben.
He must be pissed.
She took her wine and soup to the living room, turned on the gas fireplace, and scrolled until she found a lighthearted holiday romance.
The gym closed in thirty minutes. By the time Ben finished client paperwork and made sure the weight room was back in order, he should be home in an hour, even if the roads were dicey. She could stay up for another hour. She owed him that much and an apology.
