Lost Along the Way(77)

“Don’t even think that,” Meg said. “He was a rich, handsome guy. He could’ve dated and married a million different girls. He picked you.”

“Maybe he picked me because I was the only one who couldn’t see who he really was. Maybe he picked me because I was too stupid to see the truth,” Jane whispered as she began to cry. Crying had never been her thing. She was the one who got angry, the one who yelled and screamed and cursed. Crying was something she did rarely and only in the privacy of her own home, but she couldn’t keep the tears at bay. She was just too tired to even try.

“Thinking like that will drive you crazy,” Cara said. “You were vulnerable when you met him, and maybe he preyed on that a little. Who knows? But you’re not stupid. Not even close.”

“I can’t be sure anymore. I can’t be sure of anything anymore. I don’t even recognize myself,” Jane said.

Her mind wandered back to the night at Lincoln Center. It was the night she knew that she wanted to marry Doug. It was a night that now haunted her.

March 2005

“Are you excited?” he asked as he removed the tickets from the pocket of his suit jacket. “I’m by no means an expert, but I really like going to the opera every now and then. This is New York, right? It’d be silly to not take advantage of this kind of thing.”

“Very,” she said as they made their way through the plaza and into Lincoln Center. “I’ve always been curious about it, but I’ve never had a guy offer to take me before.” She looked up at the massive chandeliers glittering overhead and had to catch her breath.

“You haven’t been hanging out with the right guy,” he said with a smile.

No arguments there, Jane thought as she took his arm and let him guide her through the crowds. It was one of only a few times she’d ever had reason to get dressed up to go out on a date, and she’d loved being able to leave her jeans and boots at home. When she’d first moved to Manhattan she’d thought that she’d be like the girls in Sex and the City, constantly dressed to the nines and dripping in sequins or feathers to hit the bars on a Tuesday night. She’d quickly realized that the only women running around town dressed like that were either high-priced escorts or Rockettes, and she’d sadly tucked her little black dress away in the back of her closet, where it had stayed for a very long time. But now here she was, all dressed up and heading to the opera, and wondering if maybe there was an entirely different life ahead of her.

“No, I haven’t. That’s for damn sure,” she said with a wink.

“If you like it we can come back another time and have dinner at the restaurant here. It’s really very good and it overlooks the plaza. It’s one of those things that you have to do at least once. We can order soufflés before the first act and they’ll have them waiting on the table for us during the intermission.”

“It sounds amazing,” she gushed, unsure that she’d ever go on another date that would top this one.

“I think it is. I hope you like it.”

“I already do. I love it.”

He’d led her to their seats, and Jane glanced around the room at the other patrons, all of them sophisticated, well-dressed, and cultured—and she was sitting right there next to them. She might as well have been one of them. She looked over at Doug and it was as if something inside her clicked. Even if she never saw another opera for as long as she lived, she knew she never wanted to date anyone else ever again. It had only been three months, but she knew.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked a few hours later. They exited Lincoln Center and walked a few blocks over to Central Park West. They turned uptown toward his apartment, the music still ringing in her ears and the taste of the wine still on her tongue, and she felt like she was swimming.

“It was amazing. You’re right. You’d be crazy to live here and never experience that. I’m blown away by how talented some people are. I’d kill to be able to sing like that,” Jane said, clutching his arm tightly. She never wanted to let him go.

“I’ve heard you singing in the shower. I think you’d better stick to acting,” Doug joked.

“Hey! Maybe if I had some voice lessons I’d be good. You never know! What would you do if you weren’t in finance?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“If you had to do another job, what would you do? When you were little, did you want to be a fireman or a fisherman or a cowboy? What did you want to be when you grew up?” she asked, fully expecting him to say something adorable that would help give her some insight into Doug Logan the five-year-old boy.

“I don’t know, actually,” he’d said flatly. “I don’t think I ever wanted to be anything specifically. I just knew I wanted to be rich.”

Jane laughed. “Really, that was it, huh? So if being an acrobat in the circus meant you’d be rich, that’s what you would’ve wanted to do with your life?”

“Maybe. Lucky for me that wasn’t the only option I had. I don’t think I’d have liked wearing tights to work every day.”

“No, probably not. That’s not very romantic, though, is it? Clearly I didn’t want to be an actress for the money or I’d have given up on it by now. It’d be a nice bonus, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not what I like about it.”