The Do-Over(43)
Author: Suzanne Park

 

“Why? It’s Jake’s college graduation photos with his parents.” I sighed. “I guess he likes how he looks in caps and gowns. Maybe that’s why he’s going for a PhD, just for the photo op.”

 

A pang of sadness hit me, not only because I was looking at a college graduation picture and that obviously hit me where it hurt, but ten years ago, at my fake commencement, was also one of the last times my umma, appa, and I were together to celebrate something. And it wasn’t even for something real. My old diploma, if I still had it, was bogus. I’d achieved one less milestone in my life this whole time, and knowing I had messed up something so simple really screwed with my head.

 

“It’s a little weird he doesn’t have photos that are more recent, I’ll admit that. But like I said, maybe he’s got a thing for graduation gear. Anyway, are we done here?” I asked.

 

“Not yet. Give me a close-up view.” Her eyes narrowed as she examined the bookshelf one last time. “There’s a frame pushed to the back, way behind the high school grad one. What’s up with that?”

 

The small 4 x 6 frame was in the shadows but still not completely hidden from view. I pulled it forward while keeping my phone positioned on the shelf so Mia could get a good look too.

 

It was a photo of present-day Jake, with a gorgeous Asian woman. Fingers intertwined, smiling at the camera. Her left hand was slightly lifted to show off a simple solitaire engagement ring. He wore a dress shirt, black striped tie, and, of course, shorts. Awful, black pleated ones.

 

Mia said it before I did. “Holy shit! That woman is the same girl in the high school photo.”

 

Thoughts and memories from the past flooded my brain. The girl in the high school photo was his high school sweetheart. He had broken up with her in college a few months before we started dating. Mia and I had joked about me being a rebound. But this woman in the engagement photo . . . it was her.

 

Jake had gotten back with his ex.

 

When?

 

How long ago? And for how long?

 

Obviously long enough to be almost married to her.

 

I gulped hard and tried to calm my breathing. Mia yelped as she pieced it together too. “Ohhhh shit! That’s his re-ex! Wait, what does that make you?”

 

Also a re-ex? My mind spun to the point of dizziness. Was this a pattern of his? Do-over relationships with ex-girlfriends? And did he go running back to his ex because he realized what they had was better than what we had?

 

Jake came into the bedroom and caught me with his engagement picture in my hand.

 

“Oh shit.” He grimaced.

 

I dropped my phone as Mia yelled on its way down, “Oh shit is right.” From the floor, she yelled, “Jake Cho! You have some explaining to do!”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

I can explain,” he pleaded while securing his towel around his waist. “It’s not as bad as it looks—although, it looks pretty bad.”

 

“Well, that certainly doesn’t sound good,” Mia’s muffled voice cried out from the carpet. For a brief moment I’d forgotten she was still there.

 

I picked up the phone. “Sorry, Mia, I have to go.”

 

“But—”

 

I ended the call. Still simmering with anger, I haphazardly put on my clothes and threw my phone and charger into my bag. The last thing I needed right now was to be emotionally tied up with a guy who was still hung up on his ex. His re-ex. Or ex-ex. Specifically the person who he was dating before me, and then had gone back to sometime after we’d broken up, to date again. He was going to marry her, dating me back then only as a rebound. I don’t know why this had me worked up so much given our time together in college was so far in the past, but it did. My stomach turned sour thinking about how he’d given me hope that maybe we were meant to be together this second time. He’d probably made her think the same thing.

 

A fresh wound to the heart during a critical midterm season. Fantastic.

 

“We’re over, her and me. We broke up a few months ago.”

 

So this was a fresh breakup? Even worse. That did not bode well for us, especially given his history of repeat dating.

 

Crossing my arms, I said, “You probably thought you two were over in college too. But then later you put a ring on her finger.”

 

He pursed his lips. “We were over, and yes, we started dating again years later, because we saw each other at our ten-year high school reunion and had a fun time together. She pursued me hard and it was flattering, to be honest, because I hadn’t really dated much since college. But as we spent more time with each other, it was clear we’d both changed, and not in ways that were compatible.” He retucked his towel to tighten it. “I’d finally gotten my act together professionally by going back to school for my PhD, and she was high on the corporate ladder at an insurance company, being groomed for an executive position. She nagged me all the time about finishing my PhD quickly so I could get a real job, and called me lazy pretty much every day. Our adult lives diverged, and we were more different than ever before.”

 

He continued. “I ended it officially a few months ago. We hooked up a few times while we were broken up though.” Jake bit his lower lip, then ran his fingers through his damp hair. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that last part. I don’t suppose it would make it better if I told you that she was the one who bought the framed photo and put it on my shelf?”

 

Um, no. “That might actually be worse.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to use the term “lazy,” especially after he mentioned how it hurt his feelings, but was it really that hard to get rid of a framed photo from your shelf?

 

There was something else about what he said that bugged me. “So, she pursued you after your reunion? And in high school she pursued you then too?”

 

He nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

 

“Have you ever pursued someone romantically, or have you always just gone with the flow? Were all of your relationships out of convenience?” If his ex made the first moves, and in college if we got together only because we’d both broken up with our significant others and it was super convenient for both of us, what did that mean for us now? I’d found myself in his class by chance and—oh God, was this only dating of convenience? Did he even know how to passionately pursue anything?

 

I was not going to be part of this . . . whatever this was. A game? An unhealthy psychological pattern? No way. Not me.

 

My heart constricted inside my chest. “I’m sorry, this thing between us has to end. It’s not working for me,” I blurted. “I have midterms to study for and an author event coming up. I need to go.”