“Ah. I googled yours too a few times and may have done a Facebook search a time or two.”
“This was the first time I’ve looked you up.”
“Seriously? So you didn’t check up on me. Even once. Wow, what kind of ex-boyfriend are you?” I joked.
“No, I didn’t.” Jesse didn’t laugh with me. “But not for the reasons you’re probably thinking.”
“Jesse, it’s fine. I’m not trying to make you feel badly because you didn’t think to do it.”
“Oh, I thought about it,” he said with a chuckle. “I wanted amazing things for you and for you to be happy. But actually looking you up and seeing it? I wasn’t sure I could handle that. I wanted to be right by your side, experiencing it all with you, even though it wasn’t possible.” He tapped his pocket. “Seeing this makes me mad I wasn’t there in the stands that day, screaming so loud I wouldn’t have had a voice after. Not just watching someone’s video of it. The jealousy burns even now.”
The night air grew thick between us before he shifted away from me.
“Text me when you get home. Thank you again for being here tonight.”
I nodded, leaning away when Jesse shut my car door. I felt his eyes on me as I started the engine, and I gave him a wave before I drove off.
It didn’t matter how long ago it was. Itallstill burned.
12
EMILY
“Here’sto anotherNew York Timesbest seller.”
I clinked my glass to Mary’s. She’d been one of my first clients after I’d gone out on my own, and half of my current client roster could be linked back to her. She was in her early sixties and stunning, her shoulder-length gray hair a soft silver that shimmered along with her blue eyes.
We used to be almost neighbors when I’d lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, but we still met for dinner occasionally, usually to celebrate publishing her latest book or if we’d needed an intense discussion over edits to the one she was working on. Either instance involved more drinks than I could usually keep up with, but I’d kept it to only a couple tonight since I was driving home.
“Here’s to selling enough books to afford to keep writing them,” Mary said before downing the rest of her martini. “It helps manage the disappointment when you aim low.”
I laughed. “I absolutely see that logic. So what else is going on besides mapping out your next four book releases.”
“Nothing, really. The kids are all out of college, and the last one moved out as of last month. So, more time to write, which means more words for you.”
“That’s totally fine with me.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said. “What’s new with you? Embracing the single life?”
“I don’t know what you’d call embracing. I haven’t had time to try to meet anyone.”
“This place has some good-looking single guys.” She turned, sweeping her gaze over the crowd behind us. “When I leave to get my train, you should try to make a new friend.”
I had made a new friend out of an old friend, and that was probably the reason for my lack of motivation in meeting anyone new. I always loved seeing Mary, but it was great to spend the evening with someone who didn’t know Jesse, our history, or our convoluted present.
Speaking to Jesse every day didn’t help the confusion, and the unanswered text I’d sent this afternoon gnawed at me. He never went this long without responding, and other than my pesky attachment to him, something felt off.
“I’ll see.” I surveyed the group of guys in suits by the bar. “I’d bet most of those men are attached and wanted a drink after they got off the train before they go home to their families.”
“You never know. One might be available enough for a good time.” Her brows jumped.
“I’ll see. I’m glad you made the trip in, but next time, I’ll come to you.”
“Don’t be silly. I like coming to Long Island. It’s like a small town but is big enough so that everybody’s not in your business.”
“Ah, spoken like someone who only visits and doesn’t live here.”
She laughed. “I suppose. It’s not so secluded that there’s only one of everything, but it’s cozy. I can see why you wanted to come back.”
