“Your best friend you’ve hardly been able to be around since you were seventeen because it hurts too much.” He takes my face in his hands. “Remember my wedding?”
“I remember the first half of it,” I say truthfully. “Then I kind of skipped out.”
“So do you remember me walking down the aisle at the end?”
“No. Like I told you, I wasn’t there.”
“Exactly,” he says. “Why not?”
I shift my gaze to the dropping sun. “I left and went out with some guy from school,” I say, telling him the truth for the first time. “I tried to hook up with someone else to drown out the pain.”
Jenson takes my hand in his and turns so he’s looking out at the last remnants of the sun with me. “Did you get what you wanted?”
“Not any more than you did,” I say. “I know you married Meghan out of obligation and guilt. You thought it was your fault she got pregnant even though you used protection. Things happen, Jenson. It’s called life. Don’t blame yourself for everything.”
“I’m working on that,” he says quietly. “Just like I want you to forgive yourself too.”
“I’m trying.”
“I have a lot of regrets, you know?”
“We were both young and scared. Maybe we still are.” The warmth of his hand hits the small of my back. “I’m always scared. It’s kind of a personality trait. I act fearless and independent, like I run the bank. Really, I’m just scared of losing the bank. Or breaking it, whichever way you want to put it.”
Jenson laughs. “You’ll never break the bank, Olive.”
I lean my head on his shoulder, and we watch the sun disappear from the sky.
