The One In My Heart

Julianne must be the friend Damaris Vandermeer kept bringing up. Theirs was exactly the right demographic for Bennett: sociable, well-connected young women who would have loved taking on the challenge of reintegrating him into his family. I drained half my wine, not surprised that he had set his sights on a real relationship, only that I hadn’t realized it sooner.

“My plans were all under way when I saw you on that bridge, looking down into the water,” he continued, his gaze no longer on me but on the storm that surrounded us. “I remember stopping dead in my tracks, staring at you, and not understanding why—it had been so long since I felt anything of the sort. You had a bouquet of pink peonies in your hand, and you were plucking out the petals and letting them fall. It was the prettiest scene imaginable, your dress almost the same color as the water under the bridge, the petals floating on your reflection—and I was unbelievably pissed off.

“I had plans. Who were you and what the hell was I supposed to do with you? And I hated how it felt to look at you, as if I were standing on my own heart, crushing it with my weight—that kind of romantic shit was fine for a sixteen-year-old, but I was too old, too busy, and too ulterior-motived for it. So I walked away.”

“What?” I couldn’t help my dismayed exclamation. “You left it to chance whether we’d ever meet again?”

“All weddings in the park need permits—I could find out whose wedding you were attending and track you down that way, if I had to. But you know what I came across on my way out of the park?”

“What?”

“A charcoal drawing of your ‘princess’ picture, for sale by a street artist. Three days later I saw you in Cos Cob for the first time, walking Biscuit on a Saturday morning.”

He studied me, a scowl on his face, as if seeing me again for the very first time. “I tried to proceed with my original plan, but it was hopeless. Julianne thought I was a gentleman for holding off on physical contact, when in fact I wanted nothing to do with her. Beginning of August she went on vacation with her family. I had some time to consider what to do—and guess who called out of the blue, in a panic about a dog.

“At this point I was feeling under siege, but no dog should have to suffer for my problems. So I did what you asked. That Friday, when you texted me and told me you were going back to Cos Cob, I fully intended to stay in Manhattan—away from you. Next thing I knew, I was on the train.

“Still, when I got into my car outside Cos Cob station and started driving, I didn’t have any plans besides knocking on your door in the morning and introducing myself. But there you were, trudging along the side of the road, all drenched and miserable-looking.

“To this day I wonder how things would have turned out if I’d kept driving and left you to your own devices.”

I was on my feet. The idea that he could have passed me by, that we would have never met…

“It was always a moot point,” he said quietly. “There was no way I wouldn’t have stopped to make sure you were okay.”

Slowly I sank back into my chair. “And then you realized that I was also a pretty good candidate, since I was the one your parents had picked for you in the first place.”

He laughed briefly, and without mirth. “No. The moment I saw you wandering around in the dark, in the rain, I knew you had to be completely fucked-up.”

My lips moved but I couldn’t form a single syllable. Certainly not to defend myself. “Completely fucked-up” was an apt description—except I’d never heard it from anyone but myself. And even I had never said these words out loud.

“But you were also…delightful. When you said, ‘Grandma was lying through her teeth. You’re just average,’ I knew I was in far worse trouble than I’d ever imagined.”

He almost smiled. My heart pounded with a searing happiness.

“I parted ways with Julianne. But I couldn’t decide what to do about you. For a few weeks I Googled you every day. And then I talked to Mrs. Asquith and she said that I should contact Zelda. So I got in touch.

“All the while I still hesitated—still hoped that I’d wake up and forget about you. Then we ran into each other outside the Met. Do you know how many times you said no to me that day? I lost count. Every time you did, I told myself not to walk away, but run. Instead I kept doubling down. When you refused to be my girlfriend I said how about a fake relationship. When you wouldn’t take that I offered money. When even money couldn’t move you I…” He took a deep breath. “I think it’s fair to say that I begged you to come to the wedding reception with me. I’ve done some crazy things in my life, but that night was the first time I understood what batshit insane felt like.”

We had been in this exact room. I remembered pushing pieces of poached pear around on my plate, freaking out over his escalating offers, and wondering what the hell he actually wanted from me.

Everything. He wanted everything.

He reached for a fortune cookie from the table and broke it in two. An ironic look crossed his face as he scanned the tiny scrap of paper inside. He pushed it my way.