“And then today, I saw my announcement in print—the announcement I wrote—and suddenly it was like, ‘Wait, this is for real. Myron and I don’t end up together.’ ” She shook her head. “I’m not saying this right.”

“Nothing to say, Jessica.”

“Just like that?”

“You being here,” he said. “It’s just prewedding jitters.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.”

They sat there for a while. Myron held out his hand. She took it. He felt something course through him.

“I know why you’re here,” Myron said. “I don’t even think I’m surprised.”

“There’s still something between us, isn’t there?”

“I don’t know. . . .”

“I hear a ‘but.’ ”

“You go through what we went through—the love, the breakups, my injuries, all that pain, all that time together, the fact that I wanted to marry you—”

“Let me address that part, okay?”

“In a second. I’m on a roll here.”

Jessica smiled. “Sorry.”

“You go through all that, your lives become so entwined with one another. And then one day, you just end it. You just sever it off like with a machete. But you’re so entwined, stuff is still there.”

“Our lives are enmeshed,” she said.

“Enmeshed,” he repeated. “That sounds so precious.”

“But it’s somewhat accurate.”

He nodded.

“So what do we do?”

“Nothing. That’s just part of life.”

“Do you know why I didn’t marry you?”

“It’s irrelevant, Jess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think we need to play through this.”

Myron let go of her hand and signaled, fine, go ahead.

“Most people hate their parents’ lives. They rebel. But you wanted to be just like them. You wanted the house, the kids—”

“And you didn’t,” he interrupted. “We know all this.”

“That’s not it. I might have wanted that life too.”

“Just not with me.”

“You know that’s not it. I just wasn’t sure. . . .” She tilted her head. “You wanted that life. But I didn’t know if you wanted that life more than me.”

“That,” Myron said, “is the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe, but that’s how I felt.”

“Great, I didn’t love you enough.”

She looked at him, shook her head. “No man has ever loved me like you did.”

Silence. Myron held back the “what-about-Stoner” remark.

“When you blew out your knee—”

“Not that again. Please.”

Jessica pushed ahead. “When you blew out your knee, you changed. You worked so hard to move past it.”

“You’d have preferred the self-pity route,” Myron said.

“That might have worked better. Because what you did instead, what you ended up doing, was running scared. You grabbed so tight to everything you had that it was suffocating. All of a sudden you were mortal. You didn’t want to lose anything else and suddenly—”

“This is all great, Jess. Hey, I forget. At Duke, who taught your Intro to Psychology class? Because he’d be proud as punch right about now.”

Jessica just shook her head at him.

“What?” he said.

“You’re still not married, are you, Myron?’

“Neither,” he said, “are you.”

“Touché. But have you had a lot of serious relationships over the past seven years?”

He shrugged. “I’m involved right now.”

“Really?”

“What, that’s such a surprise?”

“No, but think about it. You, Mr. Commitment, Mr. Long-Term Relationship—why is it taking you so long to find anybody else?”

“Don’t tell me.” He held up a hand. “You spoiled me for all other women?”

“Well, that would be understandable.” Jessica arched an eyebrow. “But no, I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m all ears. Why? Why aren’t I happily married by now?”

Jessica shrugged. “I’m still working on it.”

“Don’t work on it. It doesn’t involve you anymore.”

She shrugged again.

They both sat there. It was funny how comfortable he was with all this.

“You remember my friend Claire?” Myron said.

“She married that uptight guy, right? We went to their wedding.”

“Erik.” He didn’t want to go into it all, so he started with something else. “He told me tonight that he and Claire are having troubles. He says it’s inevitable, that eventually it all dims and fades and that it becomes something else. He says he misses the passion.”

“Is he messing around?” Jessica asked.

“Why do you ask that?”

“Because it sounds like he’s trying to justify his actions.”

“So you don’t think there’s anything to that dimming passion stuff?”

“Of course there’s something to it. Passion can’t stay at that fevered pitch.”

Myron thought about that. “It did for us.”

“Yes,” she said.

“There was no fade.”

“None. But we were young. And maybe that’s why, in the end, we blew up.”

He considered that. She took his hand again. There was a charge. Then Jessica gave him a look. The look, to be more specific. Myron froze.

Uh-oh.

“You and this new woman,” Jessica said. “Are you exclusive?”

“You and Stoner-Boner,” he countered. “Are you exclusive?”

“Low blow. But it’s not about Stone. It’s not about your new missus. It’s about us.”

“And you think, what, a quick boink will help clarify things?”

“Still a wordsmith with the ladies, I see.”

“Here’s another word from the wordsmith: no.”

Jessica toyed with the top button of her blouse. Myron felt his mouth go a little dry. But she stopped.

“You’re right,” she said.

He wondered if he was disappointed that she hadn’t pushed it further. He wondered what he would have done if she had.