Page 72 of About that Fling
“You think that’s what it was all about? That Adam’s the one who presented the tool?”
“Maybe. I don’t think so. Honestly, things have been bubbling up for a while now. Way before the wedding. Before we got pregnant, even.” She grabbed a tissue and mopped at her eyes again. “Why am I so bad at this?”
“Bad at what?”
“At relationships. If you’d asked me three or four years ago, I would have told you I was just married to the wrong guy. Now—I don’t know. Maybe I’m the wrong guy.”
“Don’t say that.” Jenna squeezed her hand. “You’re a great guy. You’re smart and funny and beautiful and one of the kindest people I know.”
Mia sniffed again and crumpled the tissue in her hand. “You’re so sweet. I’m sorry I’ve been such an awful friend lately. I feel like it’s become all Mia all the time between us.”
Guilt zinged through her, sharp and searing, but she pushed it aside and rubbed her friend’s arm. “Hey, you’ve been there for me plenty of times when I needed you. That’s what friends are for.”
“Maybe. I feel like I’ve been so needy lately. It’s just—” She stopped, seeming to consider her words. “Do you think I made a mistake leaving Adam for Mark?”
All the blood drained from Jenna’s head. She felt dizzy and a little sick as she balled her hand in her lap under the table. “What?”
“I don’t mean I want him back. Adam, that is. I guess what I’m asking—” She shook her head. “Hell, I don’t know what I’m asking.”
“Try!” The word came out more harshly than she meant, and Mia leaned back in her seat. Jenna softened her voice and tried again. “I mean, tell me what you’re thinking. I want to understand.”
Mia sighed. “I guess when I chose to leave my marriage, I felt like I was doing it for the right reasons. The relationship was broken, and there was no way to fix it. But learning all these new communication tools, and now seeing how hard things are with Mark . . . I don’t know, I guess I’m wondering if I didn’t try hard enough with Adam.”
Jenna swallowed, trying to keep her throat from closing up. “You want another shot with Adam?”
“No! That’s not it at all. But it’s like art history.”
“What?”
Mia looked down at her hands as she spread her fingers out on the table. “When I was in college, I took a bunch of art history classes. I needed credits for arts and culture, and the classes fit around all the courses I needed to get my nursing degree.” She took a shaky breath and kept going. “I went to most of the classes, and I memorized big chunks of the textbook so I could ace the tests. But I didn’t really appreciate it. I didn’t sit back and enjoy the pictures or learn the stories behind the paintings. I didn’t really absorb the way the art made me feel because I was so busy memorizing so I could pass the class. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes,” Jenna said, her voice barely a whisper. “I think I do.”
Mia’s shaky smile said she felt pleased to be understood. “So it’s not that I want to go back and take art history again. Not really. I guess I just wish I’d done it differently the first time. Spent less time taking notes and more time looking at the pictures. Done less cramming for tests and more standing in art galleries just admiring the paintings.”
Jenna swallowed, wishing she knew the right thing to say here. Wishing there were some magical guidebook she could consult. “No one gets relationships right on the first try. We probably never get it right, when it all comes down to it. All we can do is take the lessons we’ve learned and keep moving forward.”
Mia nodded and buried her hands in her lap. She studied them for a moment, then met Jenna’s eyes.
“Have you ever wanted a do-over in a relationship?”
Jenna bit her lip, too unsure to speak. “I—I don’t know.”
“With Shawn, for instance. You said you had dinner with him last Friday night. How did it feel to be back together like that?”
“Weird,” Jenna admitted. “Familiar. Easy. Sometimes comfortable, sometimes really, really awkward.”
“Yeah. I know that feeling.” Mia rubbed a thumb over a line in the table. Her nails were chipped and chewed down to nubs, and Jenna felt an ache in her gut. “Do you think there’s any chance you’ll get back together with him?”
“With Shawn?” Jenna looked up at the ceiling. Honestly, the answer was no. But hell, maybe Mia had a point. Maybe she’d given up too easily, or hadn’t had the right tools, or?—
“He’s been calling,” Jenna said. “Once last night, and again this afternoon. He says he wants to talk. That’s it, just talk.”
“You think he means more?”
Jenna nodded. “I think so.”
“So maybe this is your chance to get it right this time. To not make the same mistakes again.”
