Logan turned the page, his fingers trembling.
If I could go back in time and choose all over again, pick the guy I’d spend my life with, I’d choose him. Logan was the best choice I ever made, and I love him. Heart and soul, I love him.
It was her very last entry. The rest of the pages were blank. Logan brushed a tear from his cheek, and he closed the diary reverently.
“Dad, you did just fine by Mom,” Graham said. “And maybe that other stuff was just her venting, or just taking you for granted a bit. But from what I can see there, you did well by her. I learned a lot by watching you and Mom, and you taught me to how to treat women. I learned from the best.”
Logan nodded, blinking back the tears. Had he really done well by Caroline? Did she really die with no regrets about him? At least he’d taught his son well—he was proud of that.
“I’m glad you showed this to me,” Logan said, his voice tight with emotion. “Thanks.”
“I’m going to head up to bed,” Graham said. “It’s late.”
“Yeah...”
Graham went upstairs, bumping his suitcase up behind him, and Logan sat on that chair, his heart clenched in his chest. He opened the diary and read those words again, and they felt like forgiveness.
He’d done his best...and maybe that was enough.
Maybe Logan did have something to offer Melanie, after all. He’d been afraid of inflicting his dysfunctional self onto another gentle, kind woman, but maybe he wasn’t quite so tough to live with as he’d thought. Maybe the whole package was more worthwhile than he’d thought... Logan might have a whole lot of baggage with his own father, but when he loved, he did so with everything inside of him. And maybe twenty years of marriage and devoted love had worn off a few of those rough edges.
“I’m so sorry, Caroline,” he whispered roughly. “I wish I learned some of these things earlier, but you’ve made me a better man... I owe you that.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, Melanie ordered a mocha from the barista and stood to the side, waiting while it was made. Her heart was heavy. She’d had trouble sleeping, and when she awoke this morning, she felt hollowed out.
Falling in love with Logan again hadn’t been a choice, but it was still stupid. She shouldn’t have spent the time with him, but then, she was so tired of heartache. She was tired of being angry, or sad, or melancholy...and Logan was such a breath of fresh air after everything she’d been through. He treated her the way a man should treat a woman he cared about, and that had felt so nice.
The line kept moving, everyone in search of their morning caffeine, and she idly glanced around the coffee shop, her gaze landing on a familiar form leaning back in a chair, gray hair done in an elegant updo.
“Gayle?” she said.
Gayle turned and smiled when she saw her.
“Mocha?” the barista said, and Melanie accepted her tall frothy cup with a murmur of thanks, then headed in Gayle’s direction.
“Have a seat,” Gayle said. “My date isn’t due here for another half hour, so...”
“Your date?” Melanie slid into the seat. “You didn’t tell us anything about this last night.”
“I don’t know...” Gayle’s cheeks colored. “I was shy about it, I guess. It’s been...thirty-seven years since I’ve dated a man?”
“I know the feeling,” Melanie said. “Well, for me it’s more like fifteen—but it feels like thirty-seven.”
They both chuckled.
“So tell me about him,” Melanie said. “Where did you meet him?”
“At the gym,” Gayle said. “There was this walking class—really just an excuse to walk around a track with other human beings, and we got to talking. He’s my age, he’s a retired lawyer and...he likes me.”
“How new is this?”
“This is our second official date.” Gayle dropped her gaze. “And I feel stupid. I can’t tell people, you know? They already think I’m an idiot for having been married to a gay man for thirty-five years without noticing.”
“You aren’t an idiot,” Melanie said. “Life is hard. That’s it.”
“I don’t know if I’m qualified to even comment on this yet,” Gayle said, lowering her voice even more, “but I can already tell that it’s different.”
“Yeah?” Melanie asked.
“And I don’t mean that in some naive this-is-the-man-I’ll-marry kind of way. I have no idea if we’ll last past another week! Who knows? Who cares? But it’s different... He’s different. The way he looks at me, the way he holds my hand and pulls me in, and—” She blushed again. “I grew up in a cautious generation. We saved ourselves for marriage—which is all very good, don’t get me wrong—but I wasn’t looking at the right things when I looked for a husband. I wanted someone kind, calm, reasonable, handsome, successful...”
“Sounds like a good list to me,” Melanie said.
“It’s great, but I didn’t realize that he needed to be attracted to me, too,” she said. “I thought that was a given. I was told that was a given, but it wasn’t.”
“You must have dated your ex-husband, though,” Melanie said.
“We did. For two years, and then we got married. And he was the perfect gentleman. He never crossed any lines, never wanted more than I did. He kissed me discreetly, told me I was a wonderful woman and that he couldn’t wait to make me his wife. And I thought that once I was his wife, the passion would begin.”
“And it never did, obviously,” Melanie murmured.
“It never did.” Gayle shrugged. “I mean, we had children. I won’t say more than that, but it was more of a chore. But with Matthew, well, there is a spark there that I’ve never had before...ever.” Tears misted Gayle’s eyes. “He’s...attracted to me!”
“Of course, he is!” Melanie said. “You’re beautiful!”
“Well, I’m not someone who takes
