That Yesterday

by Teal Haviland

  “Ben, you don’t have any idea how badly you broke my heart.”

  “Maybe I can change that, maybe I can fill it so full again that it fixes all the damage I did. If you give me the chance to.”

  “The chance to what?”

  “To love you, again, Jo.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “My goodness . . . you’ve really got a set, don’t you. You’re married.”

  “I know. But maybe that will change.”

  “Maybe.” I shake my head, not believing what I’m hearing and, also, that I feel a little tug at my heart that makes me think I might actually entertain the idea of getting back together with Ben. What is really troublesome to me, is that I think I might even be willing to do so if he stays married. No! No—no—no—no—no. I will not do that. “I thought you wanted to do right by her, Ben.”

  “I do. But, now that I see you, I wonder if I should go after what I want. Life’s short. Right?”

  “And you think I’m what you want?”

  Ben nods. “No. I don’t think so. I know so.”

  “How can you be so sure? You’ve been in front of me for what, twenty, maybe thirty, minutes? You know I’m what you want in that short period of time, so sure of it, in fact, that you’re considering ending your marriage for me?”

  “You’re assuming that I didn’t already know you’re what I want before walking in here today. Consider that I did know. Does that change how you feel about the fact that I still love you?”

  “No. Because I don’t know how you can expect me to believe it after what you did.”

  “Okay. So, let me ask you this . . . do you still love me, Jo?”

  “Jolynn.”

  Ben sighs heavily. “Do you still love me, Jolynn?”

  “I’m not going to answer that.”

  “I’ll take that as a, very presumptive of me, yes. If I’m right, and you do still love me, how could you marry someone else?”

  “How do you know I did?”

  “I have my own grapevine. Word got back to me.”

  “Then word probably got back to you that I also divorced, then.”

  “It did. I’m sorry for you that it ended, but . . . I’m glad for me.”

  “Well . . . that would be on par with how selfish you are and that you’re terribly insensitive to other people’s feelings. Especially mine, apparently.”

  “If I’m glad about it because I hoped that one day this would happen, and I would run into you, then . . . yes. I suppose I’m both of those things.”

  Neither of us says anything for a long moment, and it gives me time to realize how warring my thoughts are. I don’t want him back, but I do want him back. I don’t want him to leave his wife for me, but I do want him to. I want him to leave my sight right now, but definitely don’t want him to. I never want to see him again after today, and my heart aches at the thought of never seeing him.

  I sigh heavily and sit back. I came here today to reclaim my life and a place I used to love spending a good bit of time at, and then this happens. Now, I feel excited, shocked, sad, and giddy, all at the same time, somehow, and I don’t know what to make of any of it.

  “Ben, what, exactly, is the this that you think is happening? Because nothing is happening here. Nothing can happen.”

  “Because I’m married. That’s what you mean, right? Well, if I wasn’t, if—”

  “But you are—”

  “If I wasn’t, would the this, that we both know is happening whether you want to admit it or not . . . be something you would want?”

  “I can’t answer that, Ben.”

  “You can’t . . . or won’t”

  “Does it really matter which it is?”

  Ben shakes his head and a smile softens his expression. “It doesn’t. Because seeing you today has convinced me of what I need to do as soon as I leave here.”

  “And, what’s that?”

  “Something I should have probably done a long time ago. Something that’s the first thing that makes sense to me in years.”

  “Don’t do it.”

  “Why not? We could have another chance.”

  “Now you’re the one assuming. Maybe I don’t want another chance for us.”

  Ben studies me before he responds. “I’d bet there’s a good chance you do.”

  “You think I’m so weakened by seeing you again and hearing that you still love me, that I will fall at your feet?”

  “You? Fall at my feet?” Ben laughs. “I’d never think you would be that easy to win back. Even if you want me, you’d make me work for it.”

  “Damn straight, I would. So, why risk all you have with Ashley and your kids to possibly be with me?”

  “She and I aren’t fooling each other, or ourselves. I think she might be relieved to quit the charade, really. I know I would be.”

  “Hmm . . .” That’s all I say as I finish the last of my drink. I sit a moment, not knowing where to go next with this conversation and feeling like a caged tiger that sees the door to its cage has been left open, but isn’t sure if it should take the chance to free itself. I have to, though. I can’t sit here another moment. “I’ll be right back,” I say as I stand, not giving Ben a chance to object or ask where I’m going as I make my way to the counter.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I see Seth coming out of the kitchen and our eyes meet immediately. Something about the expression on my face must show my panic, because he quickly puts down the empty cups he’s carrying and makes a beeline toward me. When he reaches me he grabs my hand and leads me out the side door and onto the patio. The cold, autumn air hits me like pail of cold water being thrown on me. It shocks me back to myself and I stop. Seth turns to me but doesn’t release my hand. Where his skin and mine are touching is the only place on my body that feels warm. A chill runs through my body.

  It must be from the cold. I think. Though something inside me, something that I don’t completely acknowledge, tells me that’s not what the chill is from.

  “Are you okay?” Seth asks, but I see the question in his eyes even more, and I find it endearing that he really seems concerned. I can’t help but smile at him.

  I sigh before answering, mostly just because I don’t feel like I’ve taken a full breath since Ben first said he still loves me, but also to just release some tension that’s been building in me for most of the day. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

  “Here,” Ben says as he leads me to a table and pulls out a chair for me to sit, then he pulls another closer and sits, as well, never letting go of my hand as he does all of it. We’re the only ones outside, and for good reason—it’s so cold. “Do you want to talk about it? I will seriously make Ben leave, Jo. Just say the word.”

  I squeeze his hand, a gesture of thanks that he quickly returns. “He says he still loves me, Seth.”

  Something in Seth shifts, but I’m not sure what. “Do you still love him?”

  “I do.”

  Seth squeezes my hand again and then releases it. “then you should be happy, Jo.”

  “He’s married. But,” I say with another sigh, watching the cloud of steam my breath makes as I do, “I don’t know if I love him, or if I just love how I once loved him. The idea of having feelings that deep for him still is thrilling and scary and right and wrong and so many other things all at once, and . . .” I don’t finish. I just stand and start pacing.

  “And, you’re confused.”

  “Yes!” I say with more enthusiasm and volume than I mean to and it makes Seth jump. “Sorry,” I say through laughter and sit with him again. “Yes. And, I’m confused. Is it that obvious?”

  “Yes, Jo, it is. But, it’s not that it’s obvious because I see it. It’s obvious because anyone thrown into this scenario would be confused. That,” he says as he smiles, “and anyone who heard the contradictory words you just tossed around to describe all the emotions you’re feeling would logically come to the conclusion that you are, in fact, confused. Terribly so, it would seem. And,
honestly, with him laying that info on you after all these years and it being out of the blue, you have every right to feel that way.”

  “I suppose. This is just not how I expected the day to go.”

  “Me either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Seth looks at me and shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Let’s focus on you.”

  “Ugh . . .” I say as I lean back and slump in the chair, crossing my arms to try to feel a little warmer. I rub my arms mindlessly.

  “You’re cold.”

  “It’s freezing out here. It seems so much colder than it was this morning, or is it just me?”

  “Cold front is supposed to be coming through today. I guess it has. Do you want to go back inside?”

  “No. Not yet.” I say, and try to smile reassuringly. I really don’t want to go back inside, just yet. I don’t know what to say to Ben when I do. Maybe, he won’t be there. That would be a relief and a disappointment. “More confusion,” I say quietly.

  “What?”

  “Oh. Nothing. Just talking to myself.” I hold Seth’s gaze for a long moment, realizing as I do that I want to know more about him and what he’s been doing for the last eight years. “Distract me with your story, Seth. Tell me what’s been going on with you since we last saw each other.”

  “Really? Because it’s not particularly interesting.”

  “Really,” I say with a smile. “Tell me everything.”

  “You’ll freeze to death if I tell you everything. Besides, he says and gestures inside, someone is still waiting for you in there.”

  “Let him wait, and I’ll let you know just before I get to the point of losing my life to hypothermia and we can go in.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s see . . .” Seth laughs, and the sound of it makes me feel warmer for some reason. “I can’t believe I’m nervous all the sudden. I’m not sure where to start.”

  “How ‘bout you tell me how many hearts you’ve broken since I saw you last?”

  His brows raise and he cocks his head slightly. “Wow . . . well . . . none, actually.”

  “None. I have a hard time believing that.”

  “I seem like the heart−breaking type to you? I hate that.”

  “No, sorry,” I say through nervous laughter. “I just think a lot of women would be interested in you.”

  “Maybe there are some, but there’s not been anyone special enough for me to get involved to the point I could break their heart. Besides . . . not all men break hearts, Jo.”

  I sigh. “I know. Different subject. Have you traveled?”

  “Some. I’ve been on many trips to the Caribbean to dive, and went to Scotland and Ireland for an extended vacation to get to know some of my distant relatives.”

  “Ooh . . .”

  “What?”

  “I just imagined you in a kilt.”

  “Did I look good?”

  I laugh through my answer. “I’m not telling.”

  “I bet I looked good.”

  “Did you wear one when you were there?”

  Seth smiles and shakes his head. “I’m not telling.”

  “Touché.” I look up as I think about what to ask next. “Oh! I know! What concerts have you been to?”

  “Now that will definitely keep us out her long enough to both catch hypothermia.”

  “Top five, then.”

  “Top five . . . that’d be . . . U2, Prince, Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, and Sarah McLachlin.”

  “Wow! A Sarah fan. Not what I expected.”

  “I know when I hear something beautiful.” Seth smiles and holds my gaze before he continues. “I know beauty when I see it, too.”

  “Do you?” I ask, and I don’t have a clue what else to say because, even though I wasn’t sure earlier, I definitely think Seth is flirting, now.

  “I do,” he says, then scoots closer and leans forward, and his nearness makes my stomach do a flip. “Would you like to—”

  The patio door opens and the same barista that interrupted us earlier steps slightly through the door. “Sorry, Boss. We need you, again.”

  Seth nods and stands, holding out his hand to me as he does. “Duty calls. Come on. You can probably use warming up, anyway.” I take his hand and he escorts me back inside. “I’ll send another macchiato out to you to help you thaw out.”

  I nod and he walks away. I don’t tell him that I’m not at all cold. On the contrary . . . I feel quite cozy.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I make my way back to the table, walking past the fire that’s slowly dwindling down to more of just embers that fire springs to life out of from time to time, like it’s a person drowning in ash and trying to come up for a few, last gasps of air before they succumb to death. I pass the place the snuggly−giggly couple was sitting the last time I looked, but they’re gone. I figure that they’ve just gone, but it could have been a long time ago since I haven’t paid much attention to know when they left. Now, there’s a middle−aged man in skinny jeans sipping a cup of black coffee as he reads the New York Times, and all I can think is that no man, but especially not a middle−aged one, should ever choose skinny jeans to wear. I’m thankful for the moment of distraction, though. But it’s short−lived. I look at the table I left Ben sitting at and see he’s still there. He’s reading a book that I’d brought with me—my book. The first one I released and the one that led to me landing my first, multi−book publishing deal.

  “You’re still here,” I say as I sit down. Ben marks his page by putting the inside flap of the dust jacket between the two pages he’s stopped on and puts it down.

  “I’m impressed.”

  “That I noticed you’re still here, or that I came back?”

  “No. I knew you’d come back. I’m impressed with your writing. You’re really talented, Jolynn. I never knew you could write like that.”

  “I guess I’m full of surprises.”

  “I guess so.”

  A long, somewhat awkward, silence filled the space between us.

  “How’d you know I’d come back? Maybe I was sick of being toyed with and left you sitting here to figure out for yourself that I’d had enough.”

  “The thought crossed my mind. But, then this,” Ben says as he motions to all my things, “I figured is all very important to you. While I can see you abandoning me here, you wouldn’t leave your things.”

  “True.”

  “So . . . what were you and Seth talking about for so long?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “It’s not. I’m just trying to start a conversation, Jolynn.”

  “Okay. Tell me what you want to happen next? What’s your plan? How’s that for a conversation starter?”

  “It’s good, but I don’t really have a plan. I didn’t know I was going to run into you today. But,” he says with a smile, “I’m glad I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, like I said before you went to talk to Seth, seeing you has made me face something in my life that I hadn’t wanted to face.”

  “I think you should work on your marriage, Ben. Divorce is hard. I know from first−hand experience. If you’re doing it for the wrong reasons, you’ll always regret your decision.”

  “And, what are the right reasons? What were your reasons for divorcing your husband?”

  “The reasons I chose were right for me but those, also, are none of your business. I’m not passing judgement for wanting a divorce, Ben. I just wonder if you’d be talking so assuredly about doing it if you hadn’t run into me.”

  “I don’t know if I would have made that decision today, but I do believe I was on my way to making it soon.” Ben put his hand on my book and rubs his thumb across the part of the dust jacket that has my name on it. “Jolynn,” he says without looking at me, “I know I don’t deserve another chance with you, but I’m asking for one.” Now, he does look at me and the sincerity in his eyes shakes my resolve. “Will you give me—will you give us—
another chance?”

  I don’t know what to say. I just sit there and stare at him like a deer caught in headlights. The longer I sit, letting my thoughts war, the more frustrated I get with myself. I don’t know how long it’s been before I say something in response, but I know that Ben never breaks my gaze the entire time.

  “I just don’t know, Ben. I’m sorry . . . I don’t think I can trust you with my heart, again. Besides, this is a lot to consider, and I can’t entertain the thought of it any further because of that,” I point to his wedding ring, “and what it means.”

  Ben looks at the gold band on his finger and begins to spin it as he seems to drift into deep thought. The sound of someone adding wood to the fire, and the resulting crackles that the embers make in protest, draw my attention, and I see Seth is the one trying to bring life back to it. His back is to me and he’s crouched down as he adds another piece of wood and then uses the poker to try to stir the fire back to life even more. The muscles in his back are easily noticeable through his shirt as they move each time he works the logs, and it makes me wonder what he’d look like without it on. I realize just how attracted I am to him and wonder if he was about to ask me out when the barista came to get him when we were on the patio.

  “Jolynn,” Ben says, and I return my attention to him. “Will you meet me for dinner tonight? I’m in town until tomorrow afternoon.”

  I consider what it will mean if I meet him later. It’s far more than just a dinner invitation between old friends, and I know it. Dinner will lead to something else that I know I’ll regret later and I’m not willing to pay that emotional price for one night with Ben. I’ve had to fight off his ghost for years and, even though I generally did a good job of it in my time awake, his ghost found its way into my dreams a couple of times a week—a couple of times a week for eight years.

  “No, Ben. I won’t. I won’t take this any further than it’s already gone. You need to go home to your wife and kids. I don’t think there’s anything left for us.”

  “I know there is, Jo. And I know you still love me.”

  “That really doesn’t matter, Ben. Now . . . I think you should go.”