I looked up at him. “Of course I have.”
“You never wanted to talk. During the divorce.”
“It was hard enough to get through it as it was; seeing you and hearing you would have only made it harder.”
“I suppose I should be glad that it was hard. At least that means you still care. But I’m not glad. I hate that I’ve contributed to your unhappiness. It stays with me, you know. What I’ve done to you. Every minute of every day.”
“Please don’t say you’re sorry again,” I said in a rush. I didn’t want his apologies anymore. I didn’t want to feel the burden of his guilt. “I don’t want you to be unhappy, Evan. I’m responsible for my own happiness now. I always was, really. I guess we all are, in the end.”
I saw him glance over to one of the entrances into the gallery. A woman had wandered into the room.
“Can we sit down here for a few minutes? There’s something I need to ask you,” Evan said quietly, nodding in the direction of a circular bench at the center of the room.
I suppose he saw my hesitation.
“I won’t take up much of your time, Anna. I promise.”
I wanted to tell him it wasn’t my time I was concerned about. It was my heart. But something made me nod in agreement. We sat side by side on the bench and stared at the Romare Bearden portrait in front of us. The young woman finally left the gallery, and we were alone again.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think in the past year,” Evan began. “To wonder what would have happened if I’d done things differently. To ruminate, I suppose.”
I wanted to tell him that I wished he wouldn’t, that he would let it all go. Move on. But I would have been a hypocrite to do that. I’d done my share of ruminating, too.
“I know it’s selfish of me, but I can’t help but wonder if time… if being apart… has changed your mind, even a little. About us,” he said.
“Evan, I don’t want to rehash all this.”
“I keep thinking of what you said when you said goodbye at Les Jumeaux. You said that in time, you might be able to forgive me. It was Elizabeth that seemed to be the main stopping point. You said that Elizabeth would always be first, no matter what. It’s true, in a way. Because ultimately, it was her that brought us together. But she wasn’t the first for me, Anna. I want you to know that. I did love her, in a very complex and indelible way. But I didn’t realize until I married you that I wasn’t in love with her. You were my first. You will always be my first.”
“She was your wife, Evan. And she’s my mother.”
He took my hand in his. His touch felt so good, it hurt.
“No. She was a very sad, tortured woman who will always be a part of our lives. Our pasts. But Amanda Solas is your mother, Anna.”
I felt his lips brush lightly against my temple, and choked back a surge of emotion.
“I know you’re not ready to forgive me. Maybe it’ll take years. Maybe it’ll take a lifetime. But I wanted to see you today, to tell you that I’m here. I’ll wait, for as long as it takes—”
“Evan, I can’t talk about a future with you. It’s too much. It’s too… big,” I blurted out. Something wilted inside of me when I saw the shadow cross his face.
“Of course. I understand,” he said stiffly.
I touched his arm when he started to stand. He glanced back at me.
“You didn’t let me finish. I can’t envision a future with you right now.” He started to speak—undoubtedly to repeat his words of sad acceptance. I held up my hand to stop him.
“But I didn’t tell you what I can do,” I said.
He sat back down heavily next to me, his gaze glued to my face. “What can you do?”
I laughed and shook my head. A tear fell across my cheek. “I don’t know. We never did have much of a courtship, did we? So… dinner, maybe? Yeah. I think dinner would be nice.”
I saw something flicker in his eyes. Cautious hope, but hope nonetheless. His hand covered mine. I didn’t know if his hope was warranted or not, but I squeezed his hand back, nevertheless. It was okay, my uncertainty.
Maybe this was a second start. And who of us ever really knows how things will end up when we’re still at the beginning?