Page 129 of Perfect Life
“That wasn’talwaysme. One time the bread guy did it by accident.”
“One time.”
“Fine.” I shrug.
“She loved Will,” he says, his face softening to something like regret. “What kind of a guy makes a play for another man’s wife after what she went through last year?”
“The kind thatlikesher.”
But there’s something in his expression that tells me he’s not ready yet. Maybe he’s in the same holding pattern Nora’s in. Penance for whatever mistakes they think they’ve made.
Every relationship has its own DNA. Tippy’s and Shep’s.Beau’s and mine. No matter how much I want to will them together, Marcus and Nora will have to choose their path.
“Fine,” I say again, and sigh dramatically. “Just don’t wallow in whatever that is for too long. Don’t miss out because you’re scared.”
We gather the last of the plates and make our way outside. And there’s a peace that comes over me that I haven’t felt before. Knowing it took every turn—losing my parents, moving in with Delia, every painful reinvention, every mistake Beau and I carried—to land in this moment.
Life isn’t just the razor’s edge. It’s what you make of the choices and the chances.
“You doing okay?” Marcus asks as he watches my gaze drift toward the pool.
“Never better,” I reply, meaning it.
And once we’re all seated, looking at the people around the table, my heart swells.
We clink our glasses together and settle into our usual conversations. Marcus’s restaurant. Nora’s house. Beau’s latest hyperfixation—restoring a buttercream-colored 1981 Mercedes 300TD biodiesel. And my latest scheme—trying to get Polly to start a book club with me and some of the other neighborhood kids.
We’re lucky to be here. I’ve learned that much. If not for a few choices or a turn of fate, I could have ended up with Simon. I could have been Gemma. It’s hard to trace how we got here, harder to predict what will come next. As the conversation winds down, I spot Marcus whisper something sweet into Nora’s ear, and she smiles.
Then, Beau leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead. I savor the warmth of his lips and the breeze coming off the lake, knowing we are the lucky ones.
This is the life I want.
It’s not the life I was running down. Or the one I ran from. It’s not even what I thought I wanted. It’s better—messier, warmer, built with people I love. And it’s so much better than I could havedreamed.
