Unforgivable Read online

  “The sex was amazing,” Dayna said. “It’s always amazing, even when I’m wracked with guilt about it.”

  “What do you feel guilty about?”

  “Jay.” Dayna looked sad. “I know he’s in love with Paul as much as I am. I think sometimes that if I weren’t around, Paul would maybe make a real effort with him. Make it work.”

  Alice thought about that. Jay had told her he’d finally broken it off with Paul. He was dating a new guy, a few of them, in fact. He wasn’t happy about the breakup, but really, who ever was, even when it was the best choice?

  “If Jay weren’t around, do you think Paul would make a real effort to make it work with you?”

  Dayna looked faintly surprised, then frowned. “He got a phone call while we were watching TV, and he got up to take it in the other room. It might’ve been Jay, though I’ve heard him talking to Jay before, and I don’t think it was. I think he was talking to another woman. So, do I think if Jay weren’t around that Paul would make the effort? I don’t know. I guess not. But then he calls me up and he knows all the right things to say, and he knows just where to touch me, and the next thing I know, we’re in bed.”

  “I’m the last person to tell you not to give in to a magic cock,” Alice said. “Believe me, I get it. Especially after a long, long dry spell, finding that person who makes everything work just right is super hard to give up. Even when you know you should.”

  “Oh, really? Are you talking about that guy you met the last time we went out? Bill?” Dayna stirred sugar and cream into her coffee and set the spoon on her plate before giving Alice a significant look.

  Alice laughed and shook her head.

  “No way. Mick?”

  Alice smiled.

  Dayna laughed. “Wow. You guys. Again. Kind of gives a girl hope.”

  “It’s either going to be the greatest love story ever told, or the greatest tragedy.” Alice sipped her own coffee and contemplated ordering cheesecake. Not that she needed it or was even that hungry after the giant salad she’d had for lunch, but because . . . cheesecake.

  “Thanks for meeting me.”

  Alice looked up at Dayna’s off tone. “Sure.”

  “I just needed to talk to someone about stuff. And nobody knows like you do, about everything.” Dayna took a deep breath. “And look, I know Jay’s your friend . . .”

  “I love Jay, and we’ve been friends for a million years,” Alice said, “but you’re my friend, too.”

  “And you don’t like Paul.”

  Alice couldn’t deny that, not exactly. “I like Paul just fine. I don’t like the way he treats the people who love him so much.”

  “And you don’t understand why we do.” Dayna turned her cup in her hands and looked sad.

  “Honestly, I don’t understand why anyone falls in love with anyone,” Alice said somewhat sourly.

  Dayna looked surprised. “Uh-oh. Sounds like that’s heading more toward tragedy than love story.”

  Alice was silent for a moment while she tried to put her feelings into words. She thought about seeing Mick at Bernie and Cookie’s house for the first time after so long. That first weekend, the kissing, the touching. The passion. Then his phone call, opening the door to him, his declaration. All the months that had passed since then.

  “It’s like you’re elated, right? You get this high from being around the other person. Whatever it is, chemistry or whatever, you get a zing.”

  “Yeah,” Dayna said with a sort of dreamy sigh. “The zing.”

  “But you can’t be high forever. You have to come down, sometime. And the higher you were, the harder it is to hit the ground.”

  Dayna waved to the server. “Deep philosophical questions need dessert. Two chocolate cheesecakes with strawberries, please.” To Alice, she said, “But that’s why people keep falling in love. Because it feels so good when you’re up.”

  “I was totally and completely in love with him. That first time. God.” Alice shivered at the memory of it. “So caught up. Everything he did or said. I couldn’t get enough of him. The sex was great. And he could make me laugh the way no man ever has. I was so gone for him.”

  “And now?”

  Alice chewed the inside of her cheek for a second, thinking. “The sex is still great. Better, even, though I would never have imagined that could be. We still talk for hours, and that’s great. So long as we’re not talking about us. Then all of a sudden it’s ‘can you hear me now?’”

  Dayna laughed. “I’ve had that conversation myself.”

  “So why can’t I just go along with it? Have fun, like he says? I do have fun with him,” Alice said in a low voice. “He still makes me laugh harder than anyone else.”

  “But . . . ?” Dayna prompted.

  “But I haven’t forgotten how much he made me cry, too. And I am older. I know myself better now. A lot of what I put up with when I was twenty-three, I wouldn’t put up with now. I deserve better than to settle for half measures or someone who doesn’t listen to me or make me important. I’m trying hard to put it all in perspective. That’s all. Keep my expectations reasonable.” Alice laughed ruefully. “Look, I know that you can’t depend on any one person to make you happy, but damn, it’s not good to be with someone who makes you sad.”

  Dayna looked stunned. “Oh, my God. Oh, wow. Yes. That, all over. That, ten times. Paul never makes me feel important, and he sure as hell makes me feel sad.”

  The cheesecake arrived, and Alice dug in. The sugar sweetness did its best to chase away the sour taste on her tongue. But it didn’t help her to stop thinking about it.

  “Does Mick make you sad?”

  “He hasn’t yet,” Alice replied. “But I guess I keep waiting for him to.”

  “I’m not going to see him again,” Dayna said when a minute or so of silence had passed between them while they ate their cheesecake.

  Alice looked up. “What? Paul? Really?”

  “Yes. I’m done.” Dayna drew in a long, shaky breath, looking pleased. “Oh, my God, I never thought I would say that. All these years, the back and forth, on and off again. I mean, I didn’t see him for months or even years at a time, but I always knew we weren’t finished. He’d knock, I’d open the door. But now, what you said . . . I’m done.”

  Surprised and pleased, Alice sat back in her chair. “Wow.”

  “Shit.” Dayna looked surprised, too. “I really mean it. I feel it. It’s no good to love someone who doesn’t love you back. What good is it to open the door for someone who won’t bother to be there when you do?”

  Alice held up a hand for Dayna to high five. “No kidding.”

  “I feel like we need champagne or something for this revelation.” Dayna gave a shaky laugh, her gaze bright. She lifted her fork of cheesecake. “I guess we can settle for toasting with chocolate. To not putting up with shit.”

  “Yes.” Alice lifted her fork, too. “To all that.”

  Alice to Mick

  You know when you do something, even though you know you shouldn’t, but you do it anyway because it seems as though the benefits outweigh the potential for damage? Sometimes, it’s worth it and sometimes you end up wishing you’d been smarter. I think I’ve started wishing I was smarter.

  —Alice to Mick, unsent

  Chapter 41

  “Hey, babe. It’s me. We’re starting Sunday dinner, just wanted to know if we should hold it for you.” Mick took the beer Jimmy offered him and made an apologetic face at his mother, who was pushing past him with a pan of roast beef.

  Alice sounded surprised. “What?”

  “I’m at Mom and Dad’s. Dinner?”

  “Mick, I’m just getting in the car to take Wendy’s kids to see a movie. I didn’t know I was supposed to come over to your parents’ house. I’m sorry.” Alice said something in a muffled tone to the kids, and then her voice came back more clearly. “You didn’t mention it last night.”

  “This morning I did,” he said. “I said see you later when I kissed y