Happily Never After

Tom shifted on the bench. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Sometimes it seems that ship has sailed, you know? There’s not a lot of time, and I haven’t really met anyone I—”

“Is it because of Sophie?”

Tom gave Jacob a hard look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—” He took a deep breath. “Darn it, I know this subject is supposed to be off-limits. Always has been. I can feel it every time I get even close. But I’ve just learned a lot about how short life can be, you know?”

Tom didn’t answer.

“Well, it is,” Jacob went on doggedly. “And so it’s stupid to avoid talking about things that matter. If I had Lillith back, you know what I’d do? I’d spend every minute just talking to her. Just telling her how I feel, and finding out what matters to her. I’d never go to an office again.”

Tom tried to chuckle. “That might be a little hard on the budget.”

“Screw the budget.” Jacob shook his head. “We’ve got enough money. Why did we think there should always be more?”

Tom was silent a moment. The priest’s voice drifted sonorously over the gentle air, reaching them as pure feeling, no content. The feeling was peace. Comfort. Forgiveness.

For that one moment, Tom could almost believe such things existed, even for people like him. After all, it must be for people like him that the concept had been invented. If you’d never done anything bad, you wouldn’t need forgiveness, would you?

“I guess it is partly Sophie,” Tom said. “I came so close to making a terrible mistake. I loathe the idea of making another one.”

Jacob nodded. “I can see that.” He paused, and Tom could tell he was trying to decide how far to push. “Did you—did you ever love her in the first place?”

“Jacob,” Tom said. “I’m not going to do this.”

“I guess that’s my answer.” Jacob sighed. “Have you ever been in love with anybody?”

Tom tapped his foot, a small movement that barely disturbed the yellow leaves that had fallen into the mulch around the bench. Though the cemetery was wide and open, the breezes fresh, he had begun to feel claustrophobic.

Had he ever been in love? What kind of question was that? For a few days, ten years ago, he’d been obsessed with Kelly Carpenter. He had hungered for her like an animal. When he’d looked at her, he’d felt as if someone had tied his intestines into knots and beaten his chest with a mallet.