Page 96 of Maybe in Another Life

“I mean, I don’t know,” she says. “I just sometimes hoped that I could have something more than just fine. Someone who made me feel like I hung the moon. But I sort of stopped believing that existed, I think. And I figured, why not marry a guy like Mark? He’s a nice guy.”

“Questionable.”

She laughs. “Right. Now it’s questionable. But at the time, I didn’t think twice about it. You know? I was in a good relationship with a stable man who wanted to marry me and buy a house and do all the things you’re supposed to do. I didn’t see any reason not to take him up on that just because I felt like he was a B-plus. And I was perfectly happy. I mean, I doubt, if this hadn’t happened, that I ever would have verbalized any of this. It just wasn’t on my mind. I was happy enough. I really was.” She starts crying again.

“Are you OK?” I ask.

“No,” she says, getting hold of herself. “I’m absolutely devastated. But—”

“But what?”

“When he told me, I just kept thinking that if I met someone out there who was better for me, who I felt passionately for, I’d want to leave Mark. That’s the truth. I’d want to leave. I don’t think I would have done what he did. But I’d have wanted to.”

Charlemagne comes into the room and curls up in a ball.

“So what now?” I ask.

“Now?” Gabby says. “I don’t know. It’s too hard to think long-term. I’m heartbroken and miserable and sort of relieved and embarrassed and sick to my stomach.”

“So maybe we take it one step at a time,” I say.

“Yeah.”

“I’m really craving cinnamon rolls,” I tell her.

She laughs. “That sounds great,” she says. “Maybe with a lot of icing.”

“Who wants a cinnamon roll with only a little icing?” I ask her.

“Touché.”

“Maybe right now, all we have to do is go get cinnamon rolls with a lot of icing.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Me and the pregnant lady, putting back a half dozen cinnamon rolls.”

“Right.”

She leaves to go put on her shoes. I put on a jacket and flip-flops. You can do that in Los Angeles.

We get into the car.

“Ethan hasn’t called you, right?” Gabby says.

I shake my head. “He will when he knows what he wants to do.”

“And until then?” she asks.

“I’m not going to wait around for some man to call,” I say, teasing her. “My best friend wouldn’t stand for that.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “Extenuating circumstances.”

“Still,” I tell her, “if he wants to be with me, he’ll be with me. If he doesn’t, I’m moving on. I have a baby to raise. A job to start. I’m going through a lot. I don’t know if I told you this, but my best friend is getting divorced.”

Gabby laughs. “You’re telling me! Mine is pregnant with a baby that isn’t her boyfriend’s.”

“No shit!” I say.

“Yeah!” Gabby says. “And she came home the other day with a dog she decided to adopt out of the blue.”

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