Nobody was closer than Noah and Lisa. They had enough passion to fill up ten rooms, and even though their relationship often played out in an endless cycle of drama, fights, and making up-their love was too strong for anything to keep them apart.
There was an outcry in Rockfield that Noah got off with just a slap on the wrist. There couldn’t be anything further from the truth-he received a life sentence. And if it were left up to him, he would have pleaded to anything that got him the death penalty, in order to rejoin Lisa quicker.
Noah looked at his watch. “I gotta take off, JP,” he said, before surprising me with another embrace. “But we’ll definitely hook up at Ethan’s on Monday.”
“Hot date?” I asked.
Noah’s look intensified. “No, I’m just going to meet an old friend. We haven’t talked in a while.”
“Are you going to be alright?” I instinctively asked, the big brother in me showing through.
Noah looked back as he walked away. “I’m going to be fine,” he said, and smiled mischievously. “And speaking of old friends who haven’t talked in awhile, JP-I saw Gwen Delaney walking around here earlier.”
I watched him fade into the distance. He turned back momentarily and gave me one more smile and wave. He seemed better, especially compared to the vision of him on that bridge that was now etched in my mind. I looked forward to spending time with him, vowing to do my best to make up for lost years.
Then my mind wandered to Gwen.
Chapter 27
I stood as inconspicuously as possible amongst a crowd cheering two fat guys participating in the annual pie-eating contest. It was enough to make me never want to eat again.
After Ethan’s stinging words, I had a sudden urge to find my mother so she could work her magic to ease my guilt. I pulled my baseball cap down as far as I could and slipped out of the crowd. I hobbled down a grass corridor between the exhibit tents. And then time froze.
I couldn’t help but stare at the raven-haired beauty in the distance. I was paralyzed by a tornado of swirling emotions. History would record our relationship as a complex mix of pure greatness at the highest level and the relentless cloud of what might have been. It was similar to the way my father used to describe Mickey Mantle.
Gwen didn’t seem to be afflicted with the same inner turmoil, and began casually strolling toward me. I didn’t notice a twitch of hesitation, nor did I sense that this was a life-altering moment for her.
I never wanted to see someone as much and as little at the same time. Her long legs were covered by a knee-length plaid skirt and high black boots, which were more fairground-appropriate than Lauren’s heels. Physically, she looked similar to the last time I saw her, but this Gwen carried an aura of sophistication.
A camera hung around her neck, and bounced up and down as she approached-like my heart palpitations. My knees weakened, forcing me to lean on my cane for support.
“JP, I heard you were in town. It’s good to see you in one piece after what you went though,” she greeted me affably, and offered me a handshake like we were business colleagues.
I just stared at her. I had thought about this moment for a long time, but never really prepared what I’d actually say. In the daydreams the conversation depended upon my mood. Sometimes I would call her every name in the book for moving on without me. Other times we would rush into each other’s arms and declare that true love really is forever.
I knew touching her hand would be a mistake, so I didn’t. “It’s been a long time,” was all I could manage to say.
“Yeah, it’s been a while. It must be a few years now.”
We started making chitchat about mundane subjects. This didn’t add up, as in no reunion fantasy of mine was it ever blase. And as the shock of our sudden meeting began to wear off, I started to grow irritated. I searched for any clue that she carried the same devastating scar from our relationship, but found none.
As we continued beating the humdrum, she caught me staring at her ring finger.
“Stephen and I got divorced two years ago, to answer your question,” she said.
Just the mention of his name brought out my inner J-News. “I never know whether to give condolences or congratulations when people get divorced.”
“It was a tough time for both of us. Everyone goes into marriage thinking it will last forever,” she replied, matter of fact.
It shouldn’t have been that tough. In fact, it should have been the easiest decision she ever made … since she was supposed to still be in love with me. I never let myself think that she actually loved the guy, or dreamt of spending her life with him. I’d convinced myself that she’d married him out of spite or youthful naivete, and she eventually realized where her heart stood on the issue. Maybe it would have been best to never see her again and maintain my delusions. But it was too late for that, and I could no longer hold back.
“I’m relieved it was just divorce. I thought he might have died of old age. What was he like, a hundred when you married him?”
Her face turned beet-red-I had hit a nerve.
“The guy I dated before Stephen was an immature child, so it was nice to be with a grownup, no matter how it ended,” she said, her eyes wandering to my cane. “By the looks of it, the more things change the more they stay the same.”
The small dash of anger provided me the hope I needed to continue on. I knew, or at least hoped, that there was no way our epic tale could end with handshakes and bland discussion of the weather. I needed there to be an emotional connection, even if it came in the form of hatred or regret.
I followed Gwen’s eyes-still a radiant green-to my cane. My stare appeared to make her uncomfortable. She looked away as she spoke, an edge in her voice, “It was good to see you again, JP. I assume you’re just on a stopover between exotic countries. So have a safe trip.”
I continued staring at her. I couldn’t stop.
“What?” she finally asked with irritation.
I said nothing. I couldn’t.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to that news model who has set journalism back a couple of centuries? I think she’s still trolling around somewhere in her supermodel heels.”
My smile came to life. “How did you know Lauren was here today?”
Gwen was suddenly flustered, but recovered nicely. “I’m a journalist, remember? You know, like you used to be.”
“Used to be?”
“Yeah, back in college before you became a bad example of reality TV.”
Reality TV was a low blow. Our relationship had officially hit rock bottom.
“You mean that same ‘back in college’ time right before you kicked me to the curb, and ran off and married Grandpa Warbucks.”
She crossed her arms around her chest like the temperature had suddenly dropped fifty degrees. I remembered it as her trademark move when we fought. “Oh
The cards were now on the table. I ran off to parts unknown and shut her out of my life. Gwen married someone else. But as much as I might want to rewrite a better ending, she was correct about one thing-it wouldn’t change anything.
“Just tell me something, Gwen.”
“And that is?”
“When those terrorists took me hostage, were you rooting for me or them?”
