I rub my face. “I’m not sure I can do it.”
“Maybe you won’t have to,” she says, pausing for a second. “Judy said there’s a woman at Jacob’s work who’s been trying to get in with him since she found out about the separation.”
The words settle over me like a test I didn’t know I was taking. I wait for jealousy, anger—something. But nothing comes.
“I know I can’t expect him to stay alone forever. And after everything I’ve done, I probably don’t have the right to feel this way. But hearing about Jacob with other women? Not sure I’m ready for that. Or strong enough to let him go.”
She squeezes my hand. “You are stronger than you think. You’ve already done the hardest part and put yourself back together. Now, you need to let go of all the shit that’s no longer meant for you.”
“I have been trying to work on myself in therapy,” I say, sucking in a deep breath. “Some days feel like progress. Other days I have no clue what I’m doing.”
“Join the club. I still can’t even commit to one hair color, let alone one man.” She grins. “I love you. But I’m done watching you torture yourself. What does your gut say? Your heart? Your body? Because your head is programmed to lie to you, to keep you safe in your familiar world.”
She leans back, twirling a strand of her newly red-dyed hair. “Okay, time’s up. I’ll bill you later. My next client, Armando, requires my full attention… in sixty-four different ways.”
I snort, the tension breaking. “Oh, Armando, pull on my pretty blonde curls,” I tease in a sultry voice. “I love eating men and spitting them out for breakfast.”
Izzy glares. “Focus, Jinx. Don’t change the subject. Go home. Have the hard conversation. And don’t even think about calling me until it’s done.”
“All heart and guts. No mind. Easy peasy,” I mutter, as she struts off.
I stare at my half-empty tea.
Hey, God, how about a sign? I know I haven’t exactly been consistent. But if you’ve been trying to get through to me, I’m listening now. I know You didn’t give me a near-death experience for nothing.
Juggling grocery bags, I dig through my purse for keys in the middle of the parking lot.
“Jenna? Is that you?”
The voice freezes me in place. My chest clenches as I turn to see him. Gray streaks in his hair, heavy eyes, but recognition creeps in. My brain struggles to piece together the face in front of me with the name of the boy who hung out with Ryan every weekend.
It can’t be him.
He flashes a smile. “Wow, Jenna. What’s it been? Twenty years?”
I force a polite smile back. “Yeah… something like that. How’ve you been?”
“Good. Married. Baby on the way. Not the same guy you knew.” He drops his gaze. “How about you?”
I hesitate. “Married with two daughters.” It sounds more like a question than a statement.
“Crazy how time flies?” He grins.
My chest clenches at the thought. That nagging sense of time slipping away, of life moving forward while I’m frozen, barely holding it together. I’m not sure what else to say. The next words just come out.
“Do you still keep in touch with Ryan?” Saying his name reopens old wounds.
“You don’t know?” His voice drops, thick with something dark.
“Know what?” My stomach twists.
He clears his throat, eyes searching mine. “Ryan… he’s gone. Has been for a while. Died at twenty-four.”
The parking lot disappears. The noise, the colors, the smell of the exhaust fades into nothing.
“Twenty-four?” The words feel like they belong to someone else’s story. That’s the age we broke up. The age he vanished into thin air.
A hollow ache swells in my chest. “What… what happened?”
