That’s not true. I can make a pretty educatedguess.
Jenna has a lot of expectations. Sheexpectsthat everything will happen the way she plans it to. Sheexpectsthat everyone will be just who she wants them to be. Sheexpectsproblems will not arise, because she has created a world where problems do notexist.
I love her, I really do. She’s been my friend since high school. When I ran into her two years ago at an industry event, it was like old times. We caught each other up on what’s happened since we parted ways after graduation. She teased me for not being a part of social media and hiding from our friends. One date turned into two dates, and then we were dating. She didn’t have any pain that needed healing, not like Aubrey. Jenna is a straight line. No fractures, no past wounds, just a whole body that’s never been broken. I love her. I wouldn’t be marrying her if I didn’t love her. But I’d be lying if I said there isn’t somethingmissing.
That missing element was easy to ignore—until today when Aubrey came hurtling into my life again. Her breathing sped up, and mine did too. Her pupils dilated, and I didn’t need a mirror to know mine did too. As a doctor I recognize the physical signs of excitement, but to feel them, to know the effect they have on the mind, is a different story. Right now those effects have me here in my kitchen, shoveling ice cream into my mouth and wondering if Jenna has ever made my pupilsdilate.
I know the answer, but I’m telling myself I’mwrong.
What am I supposed to tell her? You don’t excite me like a practical stranger does, but I still proposed? I was sure about you, but now I’m not? They’re both true, but the second reason is more valid than the first. And it had nothing to do with Aubrey. When Jenna started buying Bride magazine, I started seeing things. Concerningthings.
The wedding planning—that’s when the veil was lifted, so to speak, when I finally saw just how many expectations Jenna has for herlife.
Table settings, centerpieces, beribboned chairs, they’re all just symptoms of the larger issue. This wedding is Jenna’s life, in one flawless day. She has everything planned out, right down to our children’s names.Nothing trendy,she told me.Classic. Elizabeth andDavid.
The name Claire shouldn’t bother her then. But everything else about Claire will tear Jennaup.
Because I’m flawless too. Jenna’s perfect surgeonfiancé.
Who has a lovechild from a one-hourstand five yearsago.
Who eats ice cream from the carton in the middle of thenight.
And, of course, there’s that other thing that makes me imperfect, my invisible scar… Jenna doesn’t know about that. Nobody outside my familydoes.
I shove another bite of ice cream in my mouth and toss the carton in the trash. Normally I would rinse the spoon and put it in the dishwasher and take out the trash—or at least bury the carton where she’d never find it. But nottonight.
In the morning I’m going to tell Jenna about Claire. She might as well know about the ice creamtoo.
* * *
“Hey, handsome.”Jenna’s honeyed voice filters down to me. “Why are you on the couch? Did you sleephere?”
My sleepy eyes open to see her face hovering above me. She has white-blond hair, and it’s long.For the wedding, she told me. After the wedding itschop chop. Those were her words, accompanied by a scissoringmotion.
The bottom of her hair sweeps my shoulder as she brushes a kiss on my temple. Guilt parks itself in my core. I don’t know why I feel guilty. I didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe it’s just because I know what I’m about to tell her and how it’s going to affect her. Or maybe it’s the fact that I woke up several times last night, and each time I thought aboutAubrey.
I sit up and Jenna moves away, giving me space to stand. Instead I stay seated, reach for my T-shirt, and pull it over myhead.
“I guess I fell asleep here.” After I finished the ice cream last night, I sat on the couch to think. In truth, I was avoiding my bed, where Jenna lay peacefully, probably dreaming of invitations and exquisite floralarrangements.
Jenna smiles. “Sunday brunch? I haven’t eaten since I got on the plane lastnight.”
She travels for work, every week to a different city to visit different doctors. But she’s always here on Sundays, the one day of the week we spend together. Soon she’ll move her stuff in here, and this will be herhome.
She’s dressed in workout clothes, but I know she hasn’t been to the gym. It’s her regular Sundayattire.
“Jenna, we need to talk about something that happened to me at work yesterday.” I look her in the eyes and wonder what her first words will be after sheknows.
Confused wrinkles crease her forehead. “What happened?” She sinks down into a chair across fromme.
“I was called to Mercy for an emergency surgery. A little girl.” Claire’s face comes to mind, her brown eyes so dark and deep. And those curls. I know where she got both of those things. The shock of seeing Aubrey made it harder to focus on Claire, and knowing I had to go into surgery kept me from delving any deeper. Questions darted around my brain, but I had to shut them down. My patient came first.And my daughter. One and thesame.
“OK…” Jenna draws out theword.
I take a deep breath. “It turns out I know the mother. She’s a woman I spent one night with a long timeago.”
Jenna’s top lip curls. “I get you have a past. We all do, but spare me the dirtydetails.”
