“I don’t know what you want me to say, Catherine. If Ryan doesn’t know you’re here with me this morning, what is it that you want to get out of this—to apologize to me? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just let things go?”
She looked out the window, but didn’t appear to be really looking at anything in particular. I could tell she was weighing her words before speaking. “I start chemo in a few days. This will be the first of six treatments. I’m going to lose my hair, which is why I’ve got this new hairdo.” She tried to smile. “Practice. And no, I love your new ‘do, but I wasn’t trying to copy you,” she added knowingly.
She caught me, and boy did I feel like a schmuck for thinking so highly of myself. Of course, I should’ve guessed she’d cut her hair to make it easier on her when she started to lose it.
“When I do this, I want it under my terms and with a fighter’s stance. I need to be at my best, with no regrets and nothing to hinder my fighting spirit.” She met my eyes with tears brimming and then said with painful conviction, “I am heartbreakingly jealous of you, Julia, because you have Ryan’s love. Even if I have Ryan by my side, I’ll never have his heart. I know what I did to you and Ryan was wrong. I live with the guilt every day. He thinks I didn’t notice, but his pain became abundantly clear, especially after seeing you last weekend.” She paused to let her words sink in.
My heart clenched in reaction. She’s preparing to fight. Ryan loves me. I didn’t know where to focus, so I focused on what was in front of Me: Catherine.
“Don’t be so proud, Julia. People make mistakes, but it doesn’t have to be a life sentence. Life is so short and precious and you need to be with the ones you love.” Her voice cracked and her tears fell freely down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Julia. I’m asking for both Ryan and your forgiveness. I need it so that I can go attack this cancer with every positive feeling I have in me. And if you can forgive me, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive Ryan, too.”
My own eyes brimmed with tears. I squeezed the hand that was holding mine and we wept together. I cried for both of our broken hearts, for the loss of love and what that did to your spirit. I cried over the cleansing power of forgiveness. I cried because I could feel my heart opening the door again for Ryan and that terrified me. But most of all, I cried for Catherine’s beautiful courage and fighting spirit.
The idea sounded good at the time, but now I was trying to figure out what the hell I had been thinking. Catherine had asked me to attend Ryan’s birthday party with her tonight. The party was being held in a private room at the Palisades, a lovely upscale restaurant located next door to the marina where Ryan’s boat was moored. I was her surprise birthday gift to him. She was picking me up in ten minutes.
After coffee with Catherine this morning, I went shopping for something appropriate to wear and had found the most perfect little black dress on the clearance rack. That’s the great thing about black dresses—they seemed appropriate for most every occasion. This dress was sleeveless with a crossover neckline, shirred waist, and a Grecian-inspired skirt. It stopped just above my knees, giving me ample swing and sway when I walked. It was both classic and feminine. I put on my one pair of very expensive designer Jimmy Choo black heels and looked in the mirror. My eyes were shining and my face had a healthy flush from nervous excitement. With renewed hope and anticipation for the evening, I took one last look at myself, nodded with approval, and took a cleansing breath. This is it, Jules.
My stomach churned with anxiety about seeing Ryan. Our little surprise reunion would be taking place in a public setting, in front of Ryan’s family and all of his closest friends. Catherine was adamant that he wanted this as much as I did, but I hadn’t spoken to him since I’d kicked him out of my condo. What if he changed his mind? I realized now that the decision to come tonight was done in haste. I should’ve thought through what Ryan’s potential reaction would be. I wondered if it was too late to back out. My doorbell chose that moment to buzz and there was no more time to dwell.
The ride to the restaurant took only ten minutes. Catherine pulled up to the front entrance, handed the valet her keys, and another attendant opened my passenger side door.
Sensing my anxiety, Catherine hooked one of her arms into mine. She looked elegant in an emerald green sweater dress that fit her curves. The neckline of the dress fell into a cowl neck. It complemented her green eyes and short blond hair. She bumped her hip against mine. “You’ll be fine. He’ll be so happy to see you,” she reassured me.