For Lucy

I thought we would make it to eternity.

“So how’s that daughter of yours?” Nina asks as I pretend to like the wine she insisted on ordering for us.

“Lucy is good. She has a boyfriend. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“You said she’s seventeen?”

I nod, shoving bread down to erase the bitter taste of the wine.

“Then you can’t be surprised. She’s a young woman.”

“She’s my baby girl.” I shake my head.

Nina chuckles. “And have you met this young man?”

“I have not.” A familiar figure snags my attention over Nina’s shoulder.

A couple is seated at the table behind her. It’s Tatum and who I assume must be Josh. As he pushes in her chair, her gaze lifts and meets mine. The unexpectedness pauses her motions, forcing Josh to look in my direction as well before taking his seat behind Nina.

Nina twists around to follow my gaze. “Do you know them?” She returns her attention to me. Now it’s just awkward.

“Hi,” I say to Tatum, giving her date a stiff smile. Another man with my wife (yes, I know, I know … she’s not my wife), pushing her chair in and getting ready to eat at a fancy restaurant with her, is a unique kind of torture—so is the red blouse she’s wearing with her tight gray skirt and red heels. Hair down. Makeup accenting her eyes, but not overdone. And I can smell lavender. I can smell her, and the familiarity stings. For twelve years I nestled my nose into her hair as I held her in our bed. I know how she sighs and slides her foot down my calf to run her toe along my instep. The ghost of her touch still molded to me.

“Hi.” Tatum looks up at Josh. “Um …” Her smile falters. “Josh this is Emmett. Emmett … Josh.”

I return a manly chin lift. “Josh.”

“Nice to meet you, Emmett. Lucy talks about you all the time.” He takes two steps to shake my hand, which forces me to stand.

“She’s mentioned you as well.” I return a firm handshake.

And your incessant hand washing.

“Oh … this is Nina.”

“Hi, Nina.” Josh nods politely at her.

“And that’s Tatum, my um …”

Wife! She’s my wife!

“Oh, Lucy’s mom. It’s nice to meet you. Wow, you look just like her. Emmett showed me a picture of her. She’s a beautiful girl.”

Neither one of the women stand. They share a greeting from their chairs—Tatum staring ahead at us and Nina twisted in her chair.

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.” Tatum offers a reserved smile.

I see the question on her face. Am I on a date with this much older woman? Nina doesn’t look sixty-eight. Maybe in her fifties. I’m pretty sure she colors her blond hair to keep it more blond than gray. She might have a new hip and knee, but she’s in good shape. And she’s in a pretty dress that doesn’t look like a frock. Did I mention she drives a nice BMW?

“Enjoy your dinner. It was nice meeting both of you.” Josh ends the idle chitchat and takes a seat with his back to us, leaving me with a clear view of Tatum.

Our food arrives and I focus on eating as quickly as possible. Spending the evening watching Tatum smile at Josh, laugh at things he says, and occasionally meeting my gaze only to have it erase all the joy from her face? No thank you.

“Did it end badly?” Nina asks in a hushed tone.

How do I answer that? I’m not sure badly is the right word. It’s not exactly the wrong word either. Maybe just not the best word. I never talk about my divorce, the end of my marriage. Maybe it’s my delusional mind waiting to wake up and discover that it’s all been a bad dream.

Something about Nina’s tone and the kindness in her light blue eyes makes me breathe the truth. “It ended tragically.”

With concern etched into her forehead, Nina nods slowly. “I’m sorry to hear that. I sensed tension between the two of you, but it didn’t feel like enemies. It felt different. That’s why I asked. I hope I haven’t upset you or dug up old feelings.”

The feelings aren’t old. They’re constant and as fresh—as raw—as the day it happened. The “it” that I never speak about. And yet the words tumble from my mouth as soon as Tatum starts talking to the waitress.

“We had a son. He died.”

Then we died.

Nina’s hand flies to her mouth, pressing her napkin to it. Her eyes fill with tears.

I can’t believe I just said that to her. In reality, I don’t think I did say it to her. I said it to Tatum when I knew she wasn’t looking at me, when I knew she was too distracted to overhear me.

We had a son, Tatum. He died. WE didn’t have to die. I did what you asked me to do. Why can’t you see that?