Matt rubbed at his face, looked worried as I gasped for air and asked if I wanted to sit down. I shook my head and focused on slowing my breathing. “What, Matt? What happened?” My voice was strained, thready with my erratic breathing and how pissed off I was.
He sighed and pressed a palm to his forehead, but kept his eyes on mine. “When Jenny texted about what happened at lunch and that she was worried about you—like, 911-level worried—I was on a conference call with a client. Jenny was panicking, so then I started panicking. It’s been hard...not having you there, at work.” But I knew what lived between those words.It’s been hard you not remembering me, and us.“I bolted from the conference room to call Jenny, and then Jake came to make sure I was okay and asked me what was wrong and it...it slipped out. I’m so sorry, Lucy.”
Slipped out?Even though I felt awful for everything I had put him through, I’d had it. Enough with people who supposedly had my best interests in mind making unilateral decisions that directly affected me, behind my back and without my consent.
“I need to go home,” I said, unable to argue about it anymore. I was drained, and dizzy from the gin. And before Matt could say anything in response, like,Okay, let’s go home, I added, “Alone.”
“Lucy, come on. This isn’t like you,” Matt replied, his words sharp, his cheeks flushed with frustration. He nearly immediately realized his mistake—reminding me I was not the same person as before—and cringed, then took my hand in both of his. Begging me through his touch to stay, to calm down and to forgive him. His tone softened as he said, “There’s no way I’m letting you leave by yourself.”
“Good thing it isn’t your choice, then,” I replied. “Please let me go, Matt. Now.” I pulled my hand out of his, took a few steps back and promptly ran into the wall. A sob choked me and I ran toward the front entrance of the bar. The tears were already streaming down my face as I stumbled outside onto the street. Still struggling to take in a full breath, I hastily wiped my tearstained face and looked around for a cab, until I noticed one idling by the curb and strode toward it. Another car pulled up behind the taxi and three guys spilled out, but I gave them little notice as I focused on not having a complete breakdown on the sidewalk. I was opening the taxi’s door when I heard, “Lucy?”
I turned, and there stood Daniel London.
15
He looked different, his hair longer and scruffier than he used to wear it when we were together—the way I still remembered it. I wouldn’t say he looked older exactly, but there was something about him that felt unfamiliar now.
“No way. Lucy Sparks.” Daniel’s face broke into a slow smile as I stared at him, unsure what to do next. My knees started shaking and I was grateful for the taxi’s open door, which I used to prop myself up. Daniel pointed to his two companions, then back to me. “Dave, Greg, this is Lucy.” He paused, still smiling. “An old friend.”
I barely glanced at the other two but managed to say it was nice to meet them. “Hey, guys, I’ll catch up with you inside,” Daniel said to his friends. Then we were alone and all was quiet, until the taxi driver asked me if I wanted him to wait.
“Yes,” I said through the open window, still trying to catch my breath.How long can a person hyperventilate before they pass out?“Please wait.” He started the meter and I turned my attention back to Daniel. It was dark, but we were near a streetlight, so I could now see better how his face had changed: crinkles at the corners of his eyes, a little extra weight had softened his jawline, a soul patch under his bottom lip. But the smile was the same, and it slayed me to see it.
“It’s been a long time,” Daniel said. He tucked his chin inside the collar of his coat, rubbed his hands together to warm them. I was in too much shock to even feel the cold.
“H-has it?” I stammered, then corrected myself. “It has. But it doesn’t feel like it, to be honest.”Keep it together, Lucy.“I can’t believe it’s you. Daniel London.”
“In the flesh,” he replied, grinning. Then he leaned in to hug me, and it caught me off guard. The embrace was awkward, as was the struggle to right ourselves after it. “It’s been, what...four or five years?”
“Something like that.”
“So how are you?” he asked, leaning against the taxi beside me. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m good. Doing well. How about you?”
Why did we break up? What the hell happened to us, Daniel?I tried to quiet my mind, to give little credence to the strange luck that brought us together tonight. To ignore the screaming questions about why I wasn’t Mrs. Lucy London. But Daniel, standing so close to me now, was extremely distracting and I was struggling to concentrate. He was stockier than Matt, shorter, too, and because of that our eyes were nearly level when he turned toward me, which was disarming.
“I’m back at school, grad school actually,” Daniel said. “Turns out the law wasn’t my thing. Dad is less than thrilled, but hey, I’m used to disappointing that man.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but he looked upset. I remembered how hard Daniel’s father used to be on him. The assumption he would become a lawyer, join the family firm, follow confidently in his father’s well-heeled footsteps. It was a constant source of frustration for Daniel when we were dating, the expectations his highbrow parents had set out for him.
“That’s great,” I said. “For you. Less so for your dad, I guess.” I wondered if I should let the driver go, catch another cab later. I wanted to talk to Daniel all night.
“So how about you?” he asked, nudging my arm with his. A shock rang through me, which I mostly hid by shoving my hands into my coat pockets. “What have you been up to?”
There was an intense moment of disappointment that came with his question, because it confirmed what I knew to be true but had been struggling to believe—Daniel London had no idea what I’d been up to because Daniel London was not my husband. After a short pause to collect myself I filled him in on work, using only as many words as needed. I didn’t trust myself not to blurt out what was really going on. But if my discomfort and angst showed, Daniel didn’t seem to pick up on it.
“Jameson Porter is a great firm,” he said. “Have a buddy from high school who works there. That’s actually why I’m here tonight. It’s his birthday.”
“Jake Anderson?” I said. “That’s why we’re—I’m here. For Jake’s party.”
“Really? Small world, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I murmured. I fought to maintain my composure; all this small talk wasn’t helping. “I guess I should get going.”
“Ah, too bad you’re on your way out. It would have been great to have a drink.”
“Yeah, I know. But I have this...other thing to get to tonight,” I said. “It was great to see you, Daniel.” He had no idea how great. Or how confusing.
“You, too, Lucy.” He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek and it was all I could do not to turn and kiss him back. His lips were cool and his facial hair felt strange on my skin, but everything else about him felt right.Familiar.I pulled back, though it took everything in me to do so, and smiled to hide the tornado of emotions. Daniel reached around me and opened the taxi’s door wider, and then he stepped to the side so I could get in.
