by Liz Fenton
Max gives me a long look, then asks his cabdriver if he can wait for a few minutes. As he walks tentatively beside me toward a bench at the edge of the circular driveway, I notice the dark shadows under his eyes. He hadn’t slept last night.
“Kate, I don’t know how many more times I can say I’m sorry,” he starts, but I put a finger to his lips.
“I know. That’s not what this is about. I just want to clear the air before you leave.”
“What changed? Because last night you were so”—he starts, then stops, remembering my reaction—“upset, so angry.” I raise my eyebrows and he quickly adds, “Not that I didn’t deserve it. I guess I’m trying to reconcile that Kate with the one sitting here.”
I wish I could tell him the truth. How thankful I am that he tried so hard to make it work the second time. That he might have done me the greatest favor of my life. “I had some time to think about things,” I finally say, looking down at my bare finger, my engagement ring resting in a velvet box in the safe in my hotel room, knowing I’ll return it to him as soon as I get back home.
“Okay,” Max says, giving me the same skeptical look Jules did in the hotel room. Wondering how, in just twelve hours, I could have swung so fiercely in the opposite direction.
“I just want you to know that we’re okay and I’m okay. I still wish you hadn’t waited until we were here to tell me.” I sweep my hand toward the hibiscus bushes lining the property, the rolling green hills of the golf course, the koi pond next to us. “But I agree with you—we aren’t meant to be married.”
“Really?” he says, his face so full of relief that I have to swallow back an involuntary tear. “Because, Kate, I really do believe that. And I’m so sorry I waited so long,” he says as he wrings his hands, and I imagine he’s thinking about Courtney, sure I won’t be quite as forgiving once I discover he’s leaving me for her—that she’s the reason he can’t see our future together anymore. “I was so confused. I want you to know, it was such a hard decision for me. I never wanted to hurt you. Please remember that.”
I grab his hand, which is soaked with sweat. “I know. Sometimes the truth has to hit us over the head before we can see it,” I say, thinking about Ruby, realizing now that going back had never been about fighting to stay with Max, it had been about learning to push beyond my fear to find clarity, even if it meant I might get hurt.
We both digest my words, our hands still locked together as we watch the palm trees swing hard with each wind gust stretching toward the sky but their trunks solid and secure. Exactly how I felt at this moment. “Max, I know about Courtney.”
The color drains from his face as he opens his mouth to respond. “How—”
“Does it even matter how?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing happened—I swear to you . . .” He looks down at his hands, wringing them like a wet dishrag. Finally he meets my eyes again. “I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s something between us and I need to find out what it is.”
“I know that too,” I say, and sigh as Max releases his explanation fast and furiously, like each syllable makes him feel less guilty, telling me how hard he tried to fight it and how conflicted he’s been. I finally put my hand up to silence him. I’d already witnessed firsthand why Courtney and Max were meant to be together, I didn’t need to hear it from him again.
“Here’s the thing,” I begin, searching for the words to explain to him why I was so seemingly calm, despite the fact he was leaving me for someone I had considered a friend. Because the truth was, their betrayal still hurt—the searing pain had morphed into a dull ache that would reside in my chest for a long time to come. But it had become clear that they were the puzzle pieces that fit, not us. And as crazy as it might sound, there was a part of me that admired them for not letting life lead them around like it had them on a leash—the way I had let life lead me for so long.
I turn toward Max, letting myself look into his eyes. I may not be his soul mate, but there’s no doubt in my mind that we still have love for each other. “I think I’m finally learning that I can’t force something that isn’t meant to be.” I think about the battle I’d waged for Max, the energy I’d exerted to change the course of my life, thinking I could conjure my own happiness along with it. I squeeze Max’s hand tighter. “I just want you to be happy. And if she’s the person who can do that, then you have to follow your heart toward her.”
“Thank you. I want you to be happy too,” he says softly.
“I know you do,” I say. “And that’s why I’m letting you go.”
Max’s eyes search mine for the rest of the answers I can’t give him—he’d never believe me if I told him anyway. “And you can tell Courtney she can have custody of Magda. I’m sending my resignation later today,” I say, having decided before I made my wish that the best thing would be for me to leave the advertising agency. I knew Courtney was better at the job than I was anyway—I just didn’t have the same passion for it. And I was done fighting for Magda’s acceptance.
“Are you sure? Maybe you should think about it for a few days. Don’t make any rash decisions, especially after what happened last night. I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“I won’t,” I say definitively, but quickly adding, “It’s time for me to move on. And even though I meant it when I said I’m okay with everything, that doesn’t mean I want to see Courtney every day. My friendship with her is over, ” I say, gently reminding him that even though I wasn’t unraveling at the seams, there were still consequences to the choices they had made.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “But that’s okay too,” I say in the same breath. I wasn’t sure what my next career move was, but I had money saved and I knew I would take the time to figure out what I really wanted.
The cabdriver gives a short honk and leans out the window, gesturing that it’s time to go. “So, I guess this is good-bye?” Max says.
“It is,” I say, hugging him tightly and watching as he climbs into the taxi, looking back one last time as it pulls away from the curb.
• • •
“Un-fucking-believable!” Jules exclaims when I finish telling her about my exchange with Max. I had sat on the bench long after he left, with my legs curled up beneath me, breathing deeply, letting the fresh air penetrate my lungs until Jules had come rushing out, frantically looking for me. I had patted the seat beside me and filled her in, her mouth flying open as I revealed Max was in love with Courtney, it growing wider when I told her that I’d already made peace with it.
“Hey, so there’s something I need you to do for me,” I say.
“Anything.”
“When I cancel our honeymoon,” I say, thinking of the suite I had booked us on the remote island of Lanai, the way the lush green land reached the ocean, “I’m going to rebook it for next month. For you and Ben.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s already paid for. And I thought it might be a nice getaway for you guys. You know, to reconnect?”
“What about the kids?” she asks.
“I’ll watch them.”
“What about your job?”
“I’ll be able to get the time off,” I say, not ready to tell her I was quitting just yet—she was still trying to digest that I wasn’t falling apart over Max.
“We couldn’t possibly—”
“Shush,” I interrupt. “You’re going. End of story.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“A very wise person once told me that marriage is hard—that you have to keep fighting for it every day,” I say, thinking of Jules’ own words to me. “Maybe this will make it a little easier to do that.”
Jules’ chest compresses as she exhales. “How did you know this is just what we need?”
“I had a feeling,” I say cryptically.
> • • •
I nearly spit out my coffee as it burns my tongue.
“I told you to be careful, I had them make it extra hot,” my mom says, looking concerned.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I think I’m just desperate for caffeine.”
My mom had tracked me down in my hotel room with two lattes in hand and a worried look on her face. And like Jules, she’d eyed me warily as I’d weaved the same story—that I had woken up with a new outlook on life. But then she’d hugged me tightly when I’d finished, her shoulders caving with relief.
“That’s interesting,” my mom says, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I had my own little wake-up call this morning,” she says as she adds a packet of raw sugar to her coffee. “I woke up feeling so emotional. I think Max leaving you reminded me of how your dad left me. But then I ran into this woman—she had the most beautiful curly hair and dark brown eyes!”
I perk up as my mom begins to describe Ruby, how she met her as she was getting coffee, and for reasons my mom couldn’t explain, she’d felt compelled to spill her entire life story to her as Ruby nodded her head and sipped on her mocha. When my mom had finished rambling, Ruby gave her a serious look before asking if she was finally ready. My mom, confused, had asked, “Ready for what?” To which Ruby had replied, “To begin living your damn life again, woman!”
“For a minute, I was shocked. I mean, who did this woman think she was?” my mom says with a laugh. “But then I realized she was right. And I wanted to find you immediately and warn you not to make the same mistakes I did. To not let what Max did define the rest of your life.” She pauses, staring out the window at the ocean. “And then I get up here, and you’re not crumpled in a ball on the floor like I would have been. I had no idea you were so strong. It makes me realize how weak I’ve been. I’m so sorry.” She puts her arm around my shoulder and I lean into her.
“Don’t be,” I say, her silky hair pressing against my cheek. “Maybe we can work on moving on together. Okay?”
An hour later, I’ve convinced both my mom and Jules, who’d also showed up at my door saying she was still very worried about me, that they could leave me in the hotel room by myself. After they’ve gone—I ordered Jules to pack for the red-eye home that night and my mom to go lie by the pool—I make a quick call to the front desk, then pick up my cell phone. Last time, I’d been terrified to show any weakness on Facebook, to let people know that life wasn’t turning out the way I’d hoped it would. This time, I pull up my profile, smiling as I read all the congratulatory messages on my timeline and decide that everyone deserved to hear the truth from me. I type the words without hesitation, that Max and I decided not to get married today, but that I truly appreciated everyone’s kind thoughts. I hit post and throw my phone into the drawer before collapsing onto the bed, relieved to have the truth out there, closing my eyes and letting the sound of the waves lull me to sleep.
A knock at the door wakes me and I jolt upright. “Room service!” a familiar voice calls out.
Ruby’s curvy silhouette takes up the threshold as I swing the door open and see a plate of fresh fruit in her hands. “Hungry?”
I wave her in and we walk out to the lanai, the hues of the golden sunset filling the sky. As I place a piece of mango into my mouth, letting the sweetness slide down my throat, I remember standing out here on the night of my rehearsal dinner, my chest tight with anxiety. And now, the calmness that fills my body is so foreign it feels almost like a drug. “Thank you,” I say to Ruby.
“I figured you were probably starving.”
I laugh. “I’m not talking about the food. For what you did for my mom.”
Ruby grins. “Consider it a parting gift.”
“But how did you know that was exactly what she needed to hear?”
“I can’t believe that you’re still questioning how I know things!” she says as she firmly places her hands on her hips.
“Sorry!” I say. “I guess I still don’t understand all of your powers.”
“Clearly,” she deadpans, and I swat her arm. “So tell me,” she says, her smile fading slightly. “Where do you go from here?”
“You know, I always thought that somehow my life wasn’t perfect unless other people thought so too.” The image of Callie Trenton materializes in my mind, her hand wrapped around her swollen belly as the sun casts a glow across her face. The same picture I’d seen on so many Facebook feeds. “But I would still constantly wrestle with that idea, often wondering, when I still didn’t feel authentically happy inside, if I needed to mimic what other people were doing to achieve that.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t give a fuck,” I say, and smile. “I just want to live a happy life, no matter what that life looks like.”
Ruby puts her arm around my shoulder. “I have a feeling you’re going to find that happiness you’re looking for. Just don’t make me come back here again, okay!” she mock scolds me, her laughter vibrating her chest. “You take care, Kate,” she adds, before disappearing through the door almost as quickly as she came.
“Bye, Ruby,” I call after her.
“Who’s Ruby?” Liam’s head peeks through the sheer curtain.
“The woman who just left? Isn’t that how you got in here?”
Liam shakes his head. “How long were you in the sun today? There’s no one here. Jules gave me her key—she wanted me to check in on you. You haven’t been answering your texts.”
“Sorry, I threw my phone in the drawer and fell asleep for a few hours.”
“And you were dreaming about a woman named Ruby who was in your hotel room? Tell me more!” He laughs and deflects the swat I give him.
“Come. Sit with me,” I say as he plops down onto the chaise and wraps his arm around my shoulder, the same way he had at Nikki’s party right before he told me he loved me. But did that mean that those feelings would translate here, to the life I came back to?
“Are you really okay?” he asks, his tone turning serious. “Jules told me you said you were, but I need to hear it from you.”
“I am,” I say. “Things have a way of turning out exactly the way they’re supposed to.” I grab a grape off the plate, popping it into my mouth. “Where’s What’s-her-name? Your date?”
Liam glances at his watch. “Probably about halfway over the Pacific Ocean by now.”
“She left without you?”
“She wasn’t happy that I spent most of last night here with you and Jules. She said she didn’t want to compete with something like that.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I feel like it’s my fault.”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t going to work out anyway.”
“Why? Does she have a bunion or something?” I tease.
“Worse—she has a hamster. Named Mr. Magoo. What adult woman has a hamster as a pet?”
“What a travesty!” I smile and grab another grape, this time tossing it at Liam’s mouth, and he cranes his neck to catch it.
“So what now?” he asks. “You heading home?”
“No. I’m going to stay another week,” I say. I had called down earlier and extended my reservation, deciding that it would give Max plenty of time to move out of the condo and me enough time to absorb the new direction my life was going in. I look over at Liam. “Want to join me?”
Liam’s eyes shoot up and our eyes meet. “Are you sure?”
I nod my head. “Absolutely.”
“Then of course I’ll stay,” he says softly.
I reach over and wrap my hand around his, not knowing if it’s the right thing to ask Liam to stay, not sure if we might ruin our friendship if we try to make it something more. But as his fingers meet mine, I decide that I’m ready to take the journey, no matter where it might lead us.
Acknowledgments
So many people to thank. So little time
. (Actually, that’s not true. We have all the time in the world. We’ve just always wanted to say that.)
To Greer Hendricks: How can we ever properly thank you for making our publishing dreams come true? Because we know the DryBar gift certificates are definitely not enough! We are so lucky to have you as our dream editor, championing us every day. Big kisses to you! (And, btw, it doesn’t hurt that you write the nicest editorial letters!) And Sarah Cantin, we love you, even though we kind of want to hate on you, because you just might be the cutest, sweetest, best-dressed woman ever. Not to mention, you give amazing restaurant recommendations. We’re also so appreciative of our publisher, Judith Curr. We are simply in awe to be working with you. You’re the best of the best. And a big thanks to the entire team at Atria. We feel like the luckiest girls in the world to work with y’all.
We adore you, Elisabeth Weed. You are the best agent we could ever ask for. (And a blast to share a bottle of wine with too!) And we so appreciate that we can always count on the wonderful Dana Murphy.
Ariele Fredman, we feel lucky to have you as our publicist. Thank you!
Huge love to all of the authors and bloggers and readers who have supported our journey. We appreciate every post, every picture, every review, every seat filled at a book signing, everything. Thank you.
To our faithful early readers—Mike, Matt, Cristine, and Heather—know that your feedback was invaluable in shaping this story. We could never thank you enough.
Mike and Matt, we love the hell out of you for stifling your eye rolls as we chat endlessly, for laughing at our jokes even when they aren’t that funny, and for reminding us it’s okay not to be perfect. Simply: Thank you for loving us just the way we are.
And to our Facebook friends: Thank you for sharing your lives with us each day and allowing us to crowd your news feeds with our endless selfies. (We just can’t help ourselves!) We hope you read this story and realize that no one’s life is as picture-perfect as it may seem, even if the photos and status updates they post might make you feel otherwise. And let’s be honest, an ideal life would be pretty damn boring anyway, wouldn’t it? Embrace your imperfections—and we guarantee everyone else will too.
