Unforgettable

to prove you were right?
“Emily was amazing, wasn’t she?” Jen said.
“I’d say. Standing-ovation kind of amazing. I had no idea she’d be a featured
player. A major one.”
“She’s going to Tanglewood in a couple of weeks,” Jen said, “the summer home
of the Boston Symphony. She might be the youngest there, only eighteen and
playing with the best. She used to spend summers at a music camp run by Itzhak
Perlman and his wife. She had to audition to get accepted.”
Doug’s long, low whistle reassured her.
“Tanglewood’s across the state,” she said, “and I’ll probably drive her. Emily
doesn’t have a license yet—it’s never even come up in conversation!” She shook
her head and sighed. “I swear she lives in the clouds. The girl needs a keeper!
But I can’t see Mike leaving Lisa and the kids to chauffeur her. And Luis has a
vacation planned. So, I’ll go.”
“Want company? I grew up nearby and know exactly where it is.”

---

She needed to think. “Will you turn it into a family visit as well?” Funny that
she’d never met his parents during their four years of undergrad school. They
lived far away, and she hadn’t thought too much about it then. But now she
wondered.
“Probably not.”
“Axe murderers?”
He laughed, his eyes gleaming. “Not quite that bad, but not up to your standards.
Or mine, either, for that matter.”
She stopped walking. “My standards? I’d never judge them.”
“Oh, yes, you would, but it doesn’t matter.” He faced her then, took her head
gently between his hands. “They  don’t matter. This is about you and me. Not the
extra players on the set. Because in the end, when you go to sleep at night, only
one person will be sharing your pillow.”
Her breath caught on the truth of his words. Only one person…or, it seemed, no
one.
He leaned over and touched his mouth to her lips. One touch, and whatever fire
she’d tamped down through the years blazed again. She kissed him with a
hunger that surprised her. Stunned her. But filled her with well-being.
His embrace tightened. “Jen?” He pointed at her building. “You know how I feel
about you, but it’s your call.”
My call.  Only a man who cared for her—perhaps really loved her—would toss
that ball into her court. Living in limbo had to end. It seemed she’d put her life
on hold for five long years. “Maybe I’ve been waiting…all this time,” she
whispered, as she took his hand and led him inside. Together, they ran up the one
flight to her door. And to her bed.
##
The right decision. Afterward, amid the tossed blankets and clothes, amid the
renewed and new knowledge of one another, Jen cuddled next to him, one arm
around his waist while his lay around hers. “So glad you came back,” she

---

murmured, “home to Boston, home to me.”
“Home,” he sighed. “A simple word that’s sometimes not so simple.”
“It is now. You’re here.”
He grinned. “I am. And maybe my love story has found its ending after all,” he
said.
“Huh?”
“The new play I’m working on. The ending hasn’t been clear.”
Surprised, she tipped her head to see him better. “I thought you had to know the
ending before starting the first page.”
“You remember me saying that?”
“I-I remember too many things….” His quick smile, the lick of hair he brushed
from his forehead, the spicy fragrance of his aftershave…the study sessions at
school. And singing together one Christmas in her hometown. Doug had
mentioned it weeks ago. That memory had stayed with them both.
He brushed a kiss on her temple. “You sound sad and I’m sorry.”
She twisted positions so she could see him. Slowly, she stroked his cheek.
“Doug…I’m happy you’re here. Don’t doubt it for a moment. But we need to go
slowly.”
He grinned. “I think it’s a little late for ‘slow.’”
She waved her hand at the room and down at the bed. “You and I…? We have a
history, and this—this is only one part of it. We were happy then, and it’s easy to
fall into old ways.”
“We were simply interrupted, Jen, but I hear you. If you want slow, then okay.
What are you doing tomorrow night?”
She laughed. “That’s your idea of slow?”

---

“Weekends don’t count.”
“Oh, Doug. It’s all so familiar, and yet so new. I need to get to know you again.”
“I haven’t changed. Still ambitious, still love what I do. And still…”
She read the unspoken thought in his eyes. Eyes that shone with love for her. She
squeezed his hand.
“The thing is…I need to know not only you, but myself a little better, too. How
can I give my heart if I don’t know what’s in it?”
She heard him draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Maybe,” he began,
“you’ve been spending too much time taking care of everyone else and forgotten
about yourself.”
A week ago, she would have protested. She would have argued loudly. Tonight,
she let his words sink in.

---