“I didn’t know you smoked pot before it was legal,” I say, mildly scandalized, though Dawn has always been the least “Good Little Girl Scout” of all our friends. “You never told me that.”
“Only a few times in high school,” she says with a shrug. “I figured out pretty quickly that it wasn’t for me. It made me so paranoid. I’d end up hiding in my closet hyperventilating and chewing on my hair while Dave ate all the junk food in the pantry.” She sighs. “Thank God no one else ever saw me like that. It’s nice to make mistakes in private. When you have the luxury.”
I take another nibble of my cookie, thinking about private mistakes.
If Jamison’s boss hadn’t found out about the affair, then Jamison would have been allowed to make his mistake in private, too. I never would have known that Wendy was a married woman, and Jamison and I would have moved forward with our plans and continued to be deliriously happy together.
Deep down—heck, not so very deep down—I know Dawn’s right. It would be stupid to let what, in some ways, comes down to bad luck ruin my relationship.
Jamison makes me so happy. Deeply happy, the kind that’s about more than a passing mood. It’s more like…a foundation, a safe place where I know the ground’s never going to shift beneath my feet.
For the first time in my life, I feel like someone loves every part of me—from responsible Maddie who’s never late to work, to silly Maddie who giggles hysterically when I’m embarrassed, to wild Maddie who drinks a little too much every now and then, goes skinny dipping in the ocean, and makes love until two in the morning.
Jamison gets me.
And even though our dating histories couldn’t be more different, we’re actually a lot alike. He shares my mix of respect for responsibility and longing for adventure, my love for family, even my same goofy sense of humor.
We’re more than simply compatible.
It feels like we’re meant to be.
“But how can we be meant to be?” I ask aloud, my brows knitting as another wave of doubt sweeps through me. “For years and years there were no sparks, no sizzle, no hint that we would ever be anything but friends. I mean, last December I watched him strip down at a Hunk-for-a-Month auction and all it did was make me giggle like an idiot.”
Dawn frowns. “And this is making you stress because…?”
“What if it goes away?” I ask softly. “What if one morning we wake up and don’t feel the magic anymore?”
“What if you get cancer tomorrow?” she counters. “Or Jamison gets killed fighting a fire?” she asks, making me flinch and my heart skip a beat. The thought of Jamison dying in a fire is too terrible to hold in my head for more than a second.
“If you keep looking for things to be afraid of, you’re going to find them, Maddie,” she continues in her sternest voice. “And if you keep believing you’re not lovable for one reason or another, you’ll push away every man who wants to love you.”
Pain shoots through my chest and my eyes begin to sting, but I don’t say a word.
As much as I’d like to deny it, her words are striking a chord.
A sour chord that’s become all-too-familiar since the end of my marriage.
I’ve always believed I have something worthwhile to share with the world—talents and kindness and an enthusiasm for life that’s contagious. But years of sensing that my husband didn’t want me as much as I wanted him took a toll. Even before Serge left, I wasn’t feeling as lovable as I once did, and learning Serge was gay wasn’t the relief Naomi and a lot of other people seem to think it should be.
In fact, the knowledge that I was so completely fooled for so many years shook my confidence even more. It made me doubt far more than whether I’m lovable or not. I started to doubt my ability to make good decisions in relationships, especially romantic ones, and that doubt makes it so hard to trust in anything, even my own heart.
“I know it’s hard.” Dawn takes my hand. “Believe me, I know. When Dave left, it took a long time for my self-confidence to recover. And I still have a hard time opening up with men. I mean, I’ve dated what? Three guys in the past four years? And I haven’t introduced a single one to Marshall and Emmie.”
She gives my hand a gentle shake that feels like a wake-up call. “But if I ever find someone who looks at me the way Jamison looks at you, I am going to dig down deep and hang on tight, no matter how scared I might be.” She pauses, waiting until I lift my gaze to hers. “You are lovable, Maddie. You are beautiful and kind and funny, and as long as you believe that, you can survive any of those ‘what ifs’ you’re worried about.”