“Yes, but could we have dinner first? Tonight? Me in a suit jacket, you in a dress. There’s something I want to talk to—tell you—about.”
He sounded nervous. No, excited. He wasn’t going to say something was he? As in, about them? Darlene’s chest fluttered hard. She meandered toward the back of the bookstore. “We can have dinner.”
“Brilliant. Excellent, fantastic, great. Do you want to meet at—”
“Charles!”
“Charles’s… event? God no, that would be dystopic for me.”
“No, Charles is here.” Right in front of her, in the bookstore. The humidity turned his ginger curls to ginger frizz. “I’ll call you later.” Darlene dropped her phone in her bag. Now she was the one who was flustered. “Hi!”
“Hello, Darlene. Looking gorgeous, as always.”
“Gosh, I feel like I’m talking to a celebrity.” Darlene touched her cheek, unexpectedly nervous. Charles always made her—possibly everyone—feel slightly on edge.
“Well, I did just get invited on The Daily Show,” Charles simpered. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking up some of the titles you recommended. You?”
“Signing books.” Charles indicated the copies on the front table, before turning back with a complex expression. “You have to put me out of my misery. Please tell me something isn’t going on with you and Zach.”
Thank God Charles unfollowed her when they broke up, and he definitely didn’t follow Zach. He likely hadn’t seen all the pictures Zach had tagged her in. “It’s complicated,” was the simplest, truest answer she could conjure.
Her ex-boyfriend grimaced. “It’s just so frustrating.”
“What is?”
“Zach Livingstone is a human blow-up doll!” Charles spluttered. “Look, I get it: pleasures of the flesh, et cetera—but if one day I get an invite to your wedding, it’s pistols at dawn. I mean it!”
Even broken up, Darlene had a powerful urge to impress Charles. It reminded her of typical conversations with her father, the satisfaction of a flowing, erudite conversation with someone she found authoritative. Ultimately, it was why she and Charles didn’t work as a couple, but still, the old instinct flared. She racked her brain for the cleverest way to return his shot. “Don’t worry: I’m completely clear-eyed about Zach Livingstone. Thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.”
Charles rewarded her effort with an extremely rare giggle. “Shakespeare truly was the master of insults.”
Darlene flushed hard with his approval. It made her feel light-headed and reckless. “I’d sooner marry a donkey than date Zach Livingstone!” She regretted the cruel boast as soon as it leaped from her lips. It was mean, but more so, it was in no way true.
Charles snorted laughter. He caught the eye of the person at the front counter and pulled himself together. “Must be off.”
She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you, Charles. For always seeing the best in me.”
He gave her a pleased grin, and headed off, calling back over his shoulder. “Remember: pistols at dawn.”
Darlene forced a laugh and tapped her elbow. But when Charles looked away, her smile dropped. That hadn’t felt as satisfying as she hoped it would.
Did Charles see the best in her? He rarely complimented her. And when he did, it was usually about her looks, never about her intelligence. She’d always cast Charles as her teacher, and she, the willing student. She could see now she’d put him on too high a pedestal.
She thought about the Cindy Sherman exhibition she and Zach went to a few weeks ago. There’d been a long line, which would usually irritate or simply bore Darlene. Zach didn’t mind at all, striking up a spirited conversation with the couple in front of them, middle-aged tourists from Germany. Charles never talked to strangers, a.k.a. “the great unwashed.” Zach connected with them effortlessly: he liked strangers. Sure, Zach had never heard of Cindy Sherman, someone Charles could offer a top-of-mind bio on in his sleep. But Zach made the wait, and the whole day, fun.
And she got to teach him about Cindy Sherman.
She got to teach Zach about a lot of things. And his willingness to learn relaxed her in a way learning from Charles never did. Being with Zach made her feel… happy. Being with Charles made her feel anxious and needy. She rarely felt anxious around Zach; at least, not before they’d started making out. As much as Charles taught her, she never felt like they were equals.
I feel like an equal with Zach.
Sun streamed through the bookstore’s skylight, warming her skin. And suddenly, it all became clear.
They were falling in love.
No.
She was already in love.
That was it: so plain and simple it was a mystery how it ever hadn’t been so.
She loved Zach Livingstone. And he loved her. Of course he did.
The realization bloomed electric inside her, filling her limbs until she was high and floating and giddy and silly. She loved Zach. They loved each other. Since their first kiss he’d never given her a real reason to suspect he couldn’t be trusted: that was all in her head. Darlene was struck with a desperate desire to run after Charles and redo the last minute of their conversation—but it didn’t matter. Charles was her ex, and what he thought of her and Zach was of no consequence at all.
His summer-blue eyes. His flop of hair and crooked grin. It was all hers.
Mina and Imogene’s wedding was this weekend. What a perfect place to declare their feelings, and finally consummate a love story that’d been building for two long years.
I love you, Zach. It’s you. It’s only, always, you.
Feeling queenly, Darlene put on her sunglasses and stepped out onto Smith Street.
* * *
And it was only now, four miles away on the island of Manhattan, that Zach Livingstone did what Darlene had failed to do when she bumped into Charles.
He hung up the phone.
For a long moment, he sat on the end of his bed, staring at the carpet.
Speechless.
Unable to breathe.
I’d sooner marry a donkey than date Zach Livingstone.
A freight train slammed into him, throwing him a hundred feet, crushing every bone in his body. He ended up on his bedroom floor in a broken heap, choking in gulps of air. Now I know, he thought, head cradled in his hands. Now I know what heartbreak feels like.
66
Liv and Sam were in firm agreement not to tell their children they were dating. All the holier-than-thou parenting blogs shrieked that whatever time frame one had in mind was far, far too soon, and a too-early introduction would permanently and egregiously damage the child in question. Before becoming a mother, Liv found the idea of caring what other moms thought of her parenting style downright absurd. Let alone moms on the internet she’d never even met. She still felt that way, but also, secretly, she wanted the judgy internet moms’ approval. She didn’t want to screw up the introduction, or Ben. Part of her worried she’d already screwed him up, what with his father dying, her imperfect parenting, and her own expectations. Ben’s birth was hard-won, and at first, she was looking forward to a son who was as funny and charismatic as his father. But Ben was serious and sensitive. It took effort to release those expectations and get to know the independent little human who might not roll with the punches of meeting Mom’s new boyfriend.