Shiloh resisted baking for Cary every time she had a few hours to spare. She resisted sending him candy and trail mix and Cracker Jack.
It was bad enough that she’d pinned his photo to the wall by her desk, right next to photos of her kids. She’d mentioned that in one of her emails because she felt guilty about it, because it felt like an overstep.
Shiloh wanted to warn Cary...
That she was thinking about him too much. That she was having her way with his memory. That if he were to send her another photo, she’d put that one up, too.
Cary should know that Shiloh could never be normal about him. He was always going to be her favorite. She was always going to want his attention.
He’d have to take himself away from her completely again if he didn’t want that.
He was going to have to hide himself somewhere less accessible than the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Fifty-Three
before
She wasn’t at the wedding.
Mike and Janine said that she was invited, that she’d RSVPed yes.
Mikey was always telling Cary a little bit about Shiloh—like they were still part of some three-person team, even after all these years.
“Shiloh got married—the wedding was a gas.”
“Shiloh is working at the children’s theater. That seems right, huh? You should call her.”
“I saw Shiloh when I was home for Christmas—she’s such a grumpy old man. She’s a grumpier old man than you, Cary, despite being six months younger than you and a woman.”
“Shiloh has a kid now, a little girl.”
“Shiloh has two kids now. A boy, this time. I’m jealous.”
“Shiloh is so hard to get in touch with, have you heard from her?”
“Tanya Bevacqua told me that Shiloh is getting divorced. I need to call her.”
“Shiloh better come to my wedding. It’s in Omaha this time, she has no excuse. Did I tell you she’s single again?”
Cary had never told Mikey why he and Shiloh weren’t friends anymore... It would bother Mike too much. He needed everyone to get along. He needed everyone to be happy.
Cary flew home the day of the wedding. Mikey hadn’t given him much lead time, and Cary had only been able to manage a couple days of leave. He’d barely get to see his mom while he was back.
He wasn’t sure what he would have said to Shiloh if she’d come tonight. Maybe it would have been like their five-year reunion. They’d barely talked that day—just a few sentences when Cary first walked inand ran into Shiloh on her way to the bathroom. She’d asked him about his mother, and he’d asked her about graduate school, and that was it. If Mikey had been there, he never would have stood for it.
Shiloh had brought her husband to the reunion—some kid from the suburbs who was handsome enough to be on TV. (Probably not movies, but definitely TV.)
Cary wanted to gouge the guy’s eyes out.
Sincerely.
He had no good thoughts. All bad urges.
He wanted to scream at Shiloh. He wanted to shove her husband into a wall.
He wanted to ask her how she could just stand there, alive and not in love with him.
How she could say what she’d said in her dorm room and then marry another man? What was the path from there to here? How could she explain it?
