“I wish it had been as simple as that,” she says, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. “He was broken too. We went through a lot before things started to go right for us.”
“But you knew he was the one?”
Jessie shrugs. “Not at the start. It’s hard to see clearly when you have so much clouding your vision. Ryan wasn’t prepared to be the man that he actually is, not until he found something to bring him back.”
“You?”
My cousin takes a long drink of wine and shakes her head. “Abbey. Well, he didn’t know it was a girl at the time, he just knew that there was a child that was going to come into the world without a father if he didn’t pull himself together. He loved me, but it was our baby that really brought him back from the edge. It was the baby that gave him hope.”
“Wow,” I say, amazed at how much I didn’t know about the background to Jessie’s relationship. We make so many assumptions about other people’s lives, seeing our own as so much more complicated in comparison.
“The older I get, the more I see that life isn’t perfect for anyone. It’s gritty and dirty and damaged and broken, but we find our way and hopefully find another person who accepts all the difficult things that have shaped us and help us to find a path through it all.”
“Is that what Ryan did?”
“That’s what we did for each other.”
On the other side of the bar, a couple are kissing passionately in another booth. I watch as they touch, seemingly without a care. Seeing people so into each other has always made me feel like an outsider. When you haven’t met the person who lights you up that way, it’s hard to imagine it could ever be possible. All my thoughts about love seem childish in the face of Jessie’s story. Love isn’t the fairy tale. It doesn’t sweep you off your feet into a perfect sunset. But when it finds you, it has the power to shine new, healing light on old wounds, to make everything feel possible. For all my fear, I think Aaron could be the person to do that for me, and I want to be that person for him.
“I met someone,” I tell Jessie. I wasn’t intending to reveal anything about Aaron in case he doesn’t come, but I think I need to. “He might be coming here tomorrow.”
“Might be?” Jessie arches an eyebrow as her eyes scan my face.
“It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always.” It’s her turn to pat my hand. “But you like him despite the complications.”
“I think I like him because of them,” I say. “He’s been through a lot. Similar things to me.”
“So you have a shared starting point,” Jessie says. “That can be good. You understand each other, like me and Ryan.”
“I think so.”
“Why do you think he might not come?”
I sigh, fiddling with my bracelet in my lap. “I think he’ll want to, but maybe it’s a step too far.”
Jessie smiles kindly. “Although this might feel like a really tough situation, it’s actually good. If he comes, you know he’s taking a big step forward to be with you. It’s symbolic in a way. And if he doesn’t, you know that he wasn’t capable of being the person you need. Either way, you’ll know soon enough.”
It’s true. I will know. The butterflies settle just a little in my belly. I want Aaron to take that step so much, but I’ve done all I can to let him know how I feel. Now the ball is in his court.
As hard as it is to wait, it’s all I can do.
Tonight, at least I have my cousin here to keep me company.26
AARONIt’s Thursday at 5 pm, and I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do. I suspect Nicole is already at the hotel, but I haven’t called to check. I’m sitting at my desk, and I haven’t done anything productive for at least an hour. My PA will be going home soon, and I think I’ll probably leave at the same time. As I’m getting ready to pack up my briefcase, there is a soft tap at the door. When I call out “Come in,” Sandrine enters, holding a large envelope. She looks nervous, shifting from foot to foot in her black flats. She’s renowned for being a formidable woman, so this behavior is unusual. Her eyes dart from the envelope to me behind her new, thick-rimmed glasses that I still haven’t gotten used to.
“What is it, Sandrine?” I say, curious.
“I…I’m not sure how to say this,” she says, grasping the envelope with both hands.
“What?”
“Well, I was expecting you to ask me to arrange your travel plans,” she says, chewing her lip nervously.
“What travel plans?” I frown and then realize what she’s alluding to. Sandrine reads all my emails except the ones marked with a high-security classification. She’d read Nicole’s email. “Oh, you mean to Rhode Island?”