“Children are resilient,” I say, hesitant to give anything that might lead to questions I don’t want to answer. “You are a good role model. That’s what she needs. She’s old enough to realize what he did was wrong. She won’t seek out a cheater or a liar. She’ll want a real man. She’ll be able to sniff out lies better than her peers who haven’t had this particular experience. He gave her that gift. The ability to know the difference. Your daughter will get over this. Now, will you? Put her aside for just a second and tell me what you’re afraid of outside of parenting and Kendall. Trusting again?” I ask.
Magnolia closes her eyes, and I can see her compartmentalizing. When her gaze meets mine, I see a fire there. “You know when you’re young, before you’ve been burned at all?”
I don’t. That was a luxury I wasn’t granted, but I nod anyway.
Magnolia goes on, talking with her hands. “Paul was with me since then. There was never a second I didn’t trust him. It was always him and me—us. We learned how to be adults together. It was this fragility built from childhood into adulthood. When he cheated,” she says, blowing out a breath, “that ruined everything for me. That magic you think is exclusive doesn’t exist. It was wiped out with a tsunami of grief.”
“You grieve. You move on,” I add.
She shakes her head. “I have. I’ve grieved. How is it fair he gets to have that magic? Without me? We created that together. Does that make sense?”
I clear my throat. Entering awkward territory. “Do you miss him?”
“No. Yes. No. I miss how simple it was when we were together.”
“Simple. You used the word ‘simple,’ Magnolia. True love isn’t simple.”
“What do you know about true love?”
I look away. More than I should, that’s for sure. I’m only in touch with the cruel, masochistic side of love. I know exactly what it’s not supposed to be. “This isn’t about me. You can have that feeling again. It may not look the same. Or feel the same. It can be different and be just as satisfying. But you don’t want different, do you?”
“I want him to suffer like I did.”
I correct her. “Like you do. You’re obviously suffering now.”
She covers her eyes with both palms and rubs back and forth. “That’s the thing. I thought I was over him, Aidan. Last night with you. I felt so much. It was an awakening. For stupid news about Paul and Pamela to crash in and ruin everything is devastating. I’m angry he has power over me.”
“You’re giving it to him.”
“You’re right,” she counters, sighing. “How do I take the power back? Tell me how not to care. I can’t feel like this anymore. It’s sucking away all my happiness.”
“Last night,” I say, raising one brow. “How did you feel?”
She opens her eyes wide as she lets memories trickle back in. “There was no pressure. It was easy. I was free.” She licks her lips. “I wasn’t with you to forget him or get over him. I was merely with you.”
“Because it was casual?” I prod.
She looks away. “Because of you.” Magnolia shakes her head and looks down.
“What? Tell me.”
“You called me your girlfriend in front of Polly, and I hoped you meant it. I know how crazy that is, given we’d only texteda bit and had dinner, but I wanted it to be true. I’m ready for that. I feel like a different person with you. When you just said it can be different but just as satisfying, I knew exactly what you meant. I felt that. I feel like a dope admitting this to you. I barely know you, and you don’t know me other than I’m a mess,” she continues, slurring her words a bit as she moves her hand up and down her body, attempting to highlight the mess she thinks she is. “I know I don’t want Paul.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t know I could want someone like I want you.”
My heart pounds a bit, and it’s the first indication that I might feel something that’s not altruistic—an actual blossoming of an unrecognizable emotion. “You’re not a dope, and I know that you’re a brave woman. A strong woman. You’ve lived through a blow that could take a human down.”
She waves around the room. “Is this not me down? Looks like bottom-feeder status to me. Sobbing into a dusty wineglass, whining to a stranger about my ex-husband.”
I shake my head. “You’re strong when it matters. Everyone reaches a breaking point. Nd I’m not a stranger, Magnolia. I can still taste you. We are far from strangers.”
A blush creeps up her cheeks. “I do feel better now.”
“Because you got it all off your chest?” I ask.
“No. Because you cared enough to stay and listen.”
My throat clogs with emotion. “I’ve taken Paul from you,” I say, clearing my throat halfway through my sentence. “That fucker is owned by Aidan Mixx. You understand?”
“For what price?”
