Page 18 of At the Heart of It
“You mean like interrogating spies?”
“Something like that. There’s more to it than that, but the bottom line is that I’ve studied communication techniques from some pretty unique angles. The book was supposed to reflect that. To give my insights from that perspective.”
“It did mention you were a Marine,” she said. “Right inside the dust jacket, it said you were a military veteran.”
“It didn’t say what I did in the military,” he pointed out. “Just that I was a Marine. And a football fan. And an avid fisherman. And a ‘handy guy’ who stomps around the house in a tool belt fixing shit.” He cleared his throat and glanced over at her. “For the record, I don’t own a tool belt. And I haven’t been fishing since I was eight.”
Kate frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m saying the publisher decided I was more marketable as an everyman. A regular fella. Not as a cerebral guy, but a blue collar one. The all-American, Average Joe.”
“You couldn’t be both?”
She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, but he didn’t look at her. “Not according to the publisher.”
“And you went along with it,” she said. “You pretended to be someone you weren’t.”
He shrugged. “I was star-struck and love-struck and blinded by newlywed bliss,” he muttered. “The publisher said the book would sell better that way, and they were right.”
Kate kept walking trying to digest the new information. “So you’re saying you’re not really the guy in the book. The guy who wrote, ‘A relationship is like a fart: if you have to work real hard and strain and force things, it’s probably shit.’”
Jonah laughed. “Actually, I liked that one. And it’s true.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He sighed, but didn’t say anything. Kate was getting used to these long stretches of silence. In a way, it was nice knowing he cared enough to take the time to formulate a response instead of blurting out the first words that came to mind.
They kept walking, passing a pair of twenty-something women on a park bench who cooed and leaned down to pet Buster. Jonah doled out the business cards and ran through his spiel about adoptable pets at Clearwater Animal Shelter. Kate watched him, mystified by these dual versions of the same guy.
And by his abs. God Almighty, the man should never wear a shirt.
They started walking again, and Kate waited, wondering if he’d pick up the conversation where they’d left it. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded defeated. “Look, I just can’t go back there.”
“To that persona, you mean?”
“The persona, the role—the relationship with Viv.”
She felt a dull ache in her belly and a sharp pang in her chest. Physical manifestations of feelings she couldn’t quite name. Sympathy for him, maybe, and something a little like jealousy. That was dumb. It’s not like she had any claim on Jonah, or any reason to resent his ex-wife’s claim on him.
“Sit with the feelings!”
Viv’s words rang in her brain, an echo from chapter five in But Not Broken.
“You don’t need to analyze or categorize or judge them. Just feel them.”
Kate took a deep breath and ordered herself to keep an impassive expression. “You still love Viv?”
“God, no!” Jonah looked mortified. “Not like that, anyway. Don’t get me wrong, we’re still friendly. And I don’t hate her either, if that’s your next question.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I’ve moved on. She’s moved on. It’s better that way for both of us.”
“I see.”
She was trying to see, anyway. Part of her wished he’d tell her more, that he’d explain the arc of his love affair with Viv and how they’d reached this point.
But part of her—a tiny, jealous part—didn’t want details. Didn’t want to imagine the two of them together laughing, touching, exchanging loving glances across a crowded room.
