Page 44 of About that Fling
“Please, dear. A woman needs more than one little fling.”
Tell me about it, Jenna thought, but she was saved from answering by the ring of the doorbell.
“Good night, dear!” Gert called as she headed toward the door and flung it open to greet her new gentleman friend. A tall, dark-haired man stood on the porch looking fit and handsome and at least ten years younger than Gertie. Gert tossed a sly look over her shoulder, winking at Jenna. “Don’t wait up.”
“I won’t,” Jenna murmured, her voice echoing in the suddenly silent living room.
It was too quiet. The grandfather clock Gertie brought with her when she’d moved in made a rhythmic ticking in the corner, and the whoosh of cars on the street outside reminded her that other people were out enjoying their Friday evening. Dammit, now what?
“Pizza,” Jenna said aloud just to break the silence.
She could order in, but something urged her to get out of the house.
She knew what that something was.
Two years ago today . . .
Jenna shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. How would her life be different now if it hadn’t happened? Would she have married Shawn? Would she be happy to stay home on a Friday night chasing a baby who would have started walking by now?
Jenna shook her head, shaking off the dark thoughts, too. Admittedly, nostalgia wasn’t the only thing drawing her to Rigatelli’s. Hadn’t she told Adam about the amazing pizza and Friday karaoke? It was only a few blocks from his hotel. Maybe he’d be there.
All the more reason not to go there tonight.
She grabbed her purse and strode out the door, still deciding where to go. The next thing she knew, she was standing in front of the counter at Rigatelli’s, definitely not waiting for Adam. The smell of pepperoni hung thick in the air, and Jenna breathed in the scent of bubbling cheese and wood-smoked nostalgia.
“Jenna? Is that you?”
She blinked, then blinked again. Shawn?
Her ex-fiancé strode toward her, looking as surprised as she probably did. His dark hair was neatly combed, his shoulders still broad and muscular beneath a polo shirt she knew was one of at least two dozen in his closet.
The man hadn’t changed much in the year since she’d last seen him, or in the two years since she’d broken off the engagement. That was disappointing. It might have been better if he’d gained fifty pounds or sprouted another chin.
That’s not nice, she chided herself, trying to remember some of the touchy-feely things Adam had been teaching them in mediation this past week.
“Shawn,” she said, running a hand over her hair. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, getting pizza?” He said it with a smile to take the edge off, but Jenna still felt idiotic. “I assume you’re doing the same?”
“Yeah. I hadn’t been here since—well, for a long time. I just thought?—”
“I know,” he said, reaching out to touch her hand. “Two years ago today, right? We must’ve been thinking the same thing.”
Jenna gaped at him, a little dumbfounded he’d remembered the date at all. He must have read her thoughts, because he offered a sad little smile. “Don’t look so shocked, Jenna. It was a big deal to me, too. Come on. Want to split a pizza?”
She tried to think of a good reason not to share a meal with her ex-fiancé at their old haunt on this cheerless two-year milestone, but all she could come up with was, “Um.”
Shawn nodded, taking that as concession, so he took her hand as well. Jenna let him lead her to a booth near the back, far away from the karaoke stage. She was numb enough that she almost didn’t notice it was the same booth they’d been sitting at when they had their first date five years ago.
“You want the usual?” he asked, and Jenna nodded, figuring it was easier than trying to remember complex words like pepperoni and olive.
She glanced toward the bar. “Split a half carafe of their house red?”
“Coming right up.”
She started to open her wallet, but he waved her off and headed for the counter. Okay then. She put her wallet away and tried to calm her nerves. She wasn’t nervous about seeing him again, at least not that way. She didn’t still love him. She wasn’t even sure she liked him all that much, but she was surprised to realize the resentments had cooled and the sadness had ebbed, leaving behind something that felt like?—
Like what, exactly? Numbness? A sense that she should be feeling something—anything—but really she just wanted to paste a smile in place and plow through the awkwardness as quickly as possible.
