I raised my fist to his door. Alan wasn't going to end the night like this. The door flew open immediately.
Alan took me in his arms. "I'm sorry. It's just been a long day…"
I pushed away from his chest. "Alan," I paused, licking my lips, "I haven't been entirely honest with you."
"About what?" There wasn't any malice or concern in his voice.
My eyes couldn't meet his, as I fidgeted, then returned to my chair. "About Nick. When I told you we just made love once. I was holding back."
Alan looked at me carefully, then pulled his chair back out of the room and closed the door, "Why didn't you tell me everything?"
"I wanted to see how you handled the news that I'd had an affair first."
"You could've told me later." He took my hands in his.
My chest rose and fell as I took a deep breath. "I know. I should have." I didn't wait for him to reply. I just plunged in. Told him about the motel, everything. Words poured from my mouth before I could control them, rein them in, and edit them. For some reason, it was very important to get it over with as soon as possible.
Alan was silent for a moment when I'd finished. Once again, we were on the patio outside the rooms, as the kids slept soundly inside. . We hadn't seen any of our neighbors on this trip, but I suspected that if they overheard, they were keeping quiet in order to hear more. After all, we were providing a lot of drama.
"Did you make it to the twins' birthday party?" he asked softly.
"Yes, I made it. Mike was pissed because I was late. I don't think he suspected what I was really up to. And that hurt."
"Because he didn't realize what was going on with you?" Alan responded.
"Exactly. He didn't even seem to care why I was late." I uncrossed my legs. My muscles complained.
"But that didn't bother me as much as the idea that I'd ignored my own children in order to have an affair. I really beat myself up over that."
And did I ever. I still felt a twinge of guilt when I thought of Nick. Here I was, confessing my sins, and it felt just as bad as it had the moment I answered the phone in that motel room. I wanted to be a good mom. That's why we came here—to spend time together. I couldn't cancel that just because Mike dropped out of the trip. He would always drop out.
A small, sharp stab in my heart made me wonder if that's what I was doing here. Was I spending enough time with the kids? Sure, they wanted to play with their friends. But were they really getting more quality time with me?
"So," Alan stretched the word out, "what happened?"
I shoved that niggling doubt aside. "To me and Nick?" I waited for him to nod before continuing. "That was pretty much the end of it. I think we both felt horrible. And I started to blame him for my arrogance in having an affair and neglecting my kids. Well, I didn't say that to him, but in my heart he was partially to blame."
"You just stopped seeing him altogether?"
"Yes. He seemed to know I'd never forgive myself or him. And I think he was just as startled by the realization that he'd done the same thing. We saw each other in the hall a few times but dropped all other contact."
"Do you still blame him?" Alan asked.
"No. The blame belongs exclusively to me. I could've talked about the kids more, thought about the circumstances. But I didn't."
"You know, I don't think the kids knew you'd forgotten them." Alan smiled. "You should let yourself off the hook."
I nodded. "I know I should, and maybe someday I will. At least I'm glad that this affair includes kids."
Alan laughed. "That's funny. I can see the brochures—'Having an affair while on vacation? Take the kids with you! Family time without the guilt!'"
I wanted to laugh. It was amusing. But I couldn't.
Alan's face grew serious. "You aren't still in love with him, are you?"
I shook my head. "No. I don't think I could ever love a man who would so easily leave his children and expect me to do the same."
"But that's not an emotional reason. That's a common sense reason. I asked if you still love him."
I looked Alan in the eyes. He had to believe me on this. "No. I don't love him. I did at the time. It was an amazing affair. But it was all about us. And that's not who I am."
Alan looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
What did I mean, exactly? Somewhere in my head was the answer. "I'm not like those mothers on TV who say that their kids are their life. Obviously, I'm a little more selfish than that. But Clara and Rory have to be an important part of my life. So it was just the part of me that only cared about my own pleasure that was involved in the affair. And I want there to be more to me than that."
I watched him carefully. This affair was different. And the feelings I had for Nick were not nearly as consuming as what I felt for the man sitting next to me.
Alan nodded. "I understand that. It makes sense. Like how my writing is a part of me. I don't think I could give up any one part of myself to be with you. Fortunately, you aren't asking me to. But if you saw Nick again, would you want him?"
I thought about that for a moment. "I don't think so. There was a very strong physical and intellectual attraction, but I have that with you and more."
"I'm happy to have that," Alan said quietly, "and I love your kids as if they were my own. But warn me if you run into Nick again, okay?"
"Deal." I said, leaning back. I felt like a deflated balloon. For so long, all that pressure had been building. Now it was out, and like magic, the pain had eased somewhat. I looked at Alan as he stretched his legs out in front of him. How amazing is it, to have someone who accepts your past and still wants you? Mike would certainly not be so forgiving. He'd probably sooner kill me than even listen to the whole story—doing it slowly and painfully with the precision of Torquemada during the Spanish Inquisition.
But Alan seemed to want to hear the whole thing. And then, he just accepted it, without worry. Was this really happening to me? Was Alan real? Or did I concoct him out of nowhere? Had I been wandering through my vacation all this time with just two kids and an imaginary playmate? Obviously, the parks' animatronics technology has improved a great deal if that was the case.
"Why are you smiling?" Alan asked.
I squeezed his hand. "Because you're too good to be true, and I don't deserve you."
He laughed. "It is I who doesn't deserve you, I think."
"Well then, we make the perfect pair. Neither one of us thinks we're good enough for the other."
Alan lifted the last beer bottle to his lips. "Sounds like the blueprint for the perfect relationship to me."
I had to admit…it really did.