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When your father got sick, I realized that if something were to happen to me, there were things I’d never been able to tell you. I wish I could have opened up to you more, but you and I had a tough time doing that. I hope by the time I die, I will have told you this in person. But just in case, I wanted you to know how sorry I am that I wasn’t the kind of mother you deserved. I regret that I didn’t make you feel special or good enough. I should have hugged and kissed you more and told you how important you are to me, but I was never comfortable showing that kind of emotion. My parents didn’t teach me how, but I should have tried harder. I’m thankful that your father could give you that, but envious of the bond you two had. I wish you could have loved me like that.

You’ve been faced with struggles in your life, and over the years you’ll be faced with more. Never doubt that you can deal with whatever obstacles are put in your way. You’re a strong, intelligent woman with great instincts, who I’ve always admired and had faith in. I want you to know how much I love you and how proud I am that you’re my daughter.

I asked Jerry if I were to die, to give you this letter and something else that was important to me. Something your father gave me on the day you were born. I love you, Maggie, always know that, and I hope your life is as fulfilling as mine was.

Love, Mom

I read the letter twice. I wished she would’ve said all that when she was alive. Now there was no chance anything could ever change. I opened the box, and inside was a gold bracelet with little diamonds around it, the one my mother would never let me borrow. It was her most valued piece of jewelry. I turned it around in my hands and noticed an inscription I’d never seen:Thank you for such a precious gift, your loving husband.

I drove to Brooklawn, and went straight to my father’s room and climbed on his bed. I laid down next to him the way I used to when I was a little girl. Dad was staring at the ceiling. It reminded me how, in second grade during class, I used to stare at the ceiling and count tiles. At the last parent-teacher conference of the year, my teacher told my parents I was unable to focus in class. She said I wasn’t going to do well in third grade. Dad was so mad he told her that if she taught in a less boring way, I’d be more attentive. He was always sticking up for me. As I looked into his eyes, I became Daddy’s little girl again.

“Dad, you have to help me,” I whispered. “I did something really bad.” I put my head on his chest. He didn’t say anything, but I felt his heartbeat quicken. “I got involved with a man, and Jim found out and left me.” He didn’t take his eyes off the ceiling. I turned over on my side and looked at him, but I couldn’t read his expression. Even if he understood what I was saying, he wouldn’t have admitted that he was disappointed in me. He would’ve found a way to excuse my behavior.

And then I began to shake. Sounds came out of me but no tears. It was as if there was an earthquake inside, and the tremors were causing damage, but the dam wasn’t breaking. “Your perfect little girl screwed her life up,” I said. “I need your help. You always knew what I should do.” He moved his hand so it rested against my side. And then the dam broke. He could’ve been comforting me, or he just wanted me to stop getting his sheets wet. “Dad, I miss you so much. I don’t know how to be without you. Please come back to me.” I continued to cry as I realized I didn’t have a dad, I didn’t have a mom, and I didn’t have a husband.

“Mr. Rubin, are you ready for lunch?” a young nurse said as she carried in a tray of food. “Oh, sorry, Maggie, I didn’t see you there.” She seemed embarrassed when she noticed what an emotional mess I was. “Your father hasn’t been able to eat in the dining room lately,” she said.

“Can you come back in a few minutes?” I choked out.

“Of course.” She put the tray on the bedside table. The smell of macaroni and cheese wafted through the room, making my stomach churn.

I got off the bed and got a tissue to wipe the mascara streaks from under my eyes. “Dad, I wish you could say something to make it all better.”

“I love you,” he whispered without turning his head toward me. Hearing him say that made me feel safe. He knew I was there, and he knew who I was. As I was about to tell him I loved him too, he said, “I keep telling you, young lady, you need to go. And take all the squirrels with you.” I kissed him on the forehead and walked out.

When I got home, I took a shower. I wanted a clean start to my marriage. It might take a lot of work, but Jim would someday forgive me. We could get back to where we were a year ago, when we were happy and having sex.

I needed to be more direct if things were bothering me, and he needed to be more communicative and not worry what my reaction would be. He would realize that we were better together than apart and that our marriage was worth fighting for. We could go to couples therapy, so we’d have help working through the hurt. I was nervous about seeing him but trying to be optimistic. Then again, he hadn’t been breaking down my door to see me. What if he didn’t want me back? He had loved me for years. Could he really stop so easily?

I gazed at my face in the bathroom mirror. The lines in my forehead had deepened. I dabbed a lot of concealer under my eyes to get rid of the puffiness. Then I highlighted underneath them with black eyeliner, but my hand was shaking so much I got eyeliner in my eye. I was smart and cute, and good makeup hid my age relatively well.

By the time I finished applying a coat of champagne eye shadow and waterproof mascara, my hair was close to dry. I used a curling iron to put in beachy waves, as if I’d just climbed out of the ocean. My hair was perfect, a big difference from the last time I’d gotten out of the ocean with frizzed curls and seaweed attached to the crotch of my bathing suit.

I put on a gray sweater dress, black tights, and boots. I was overdressed, but I wanted to look like I had when we were first dating. Now, what jewelry did one wear when they begged their husband to come home? I settled on the bracelet my mother gave me and the gold hoop earrings Jim gave me for my last birthday.

I was ready, but Jim and Gia weren’t due home from New York for another half hour. Why the hell did I get dressed so early? If I sat down, I’d look rumpled. I leaned against the counter in the kitchen and read the newspaper, then I paced until I heard Jim’s car pull up.

The two of them came in reminiscing about how good the hot fudge sundae they had at Serendipity at midnight last night was. I would’ve loved to be a part of that. Maybe after today, I could be. I hugged Gia tighter than usual and told her to go unpack. She kissed her father and ran upstairs. I walked toward Jim seductively, hoping he wouldn’t be able to resist my charms. He looked me up and down like he did on our first date, then opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. Yes! Score one for tight sweater dresses.

I asked howHamiltonwas. He said it was fantastic, which I knew it would be, but he didn’t have to tell me in detail. I invited him to stay for a few minutes, and surprisingly he agreed. We moved over to the couch and sat down.

I was ready; I knew what I wanted to say. I’d been practicing my speech in the mirror all morning. I’d tell him how much I loved him and how we were destined to be together, and I’d never do anything like Michael again. I’d tell him I knew it would take him a while to forgive me and earn his trust back, but I was willing to work hard. I hoped he’d see how sincere I was, but before I could launch into my speech, Jim spoke.

“It’s been hard being without you, and I’ve had time now to understand my part in everything. I miss you,” he said. Well, that was easier than I thought.

“I miss you too,” I said.

Jim’s whole body relaxed next to me, and he took my hand. “I want to come home. We can work things out together.”

As I gazed into his eyes, I saw a wonderful, caring man who was saying exactly what I wanted to hear. Those words made me happy, so what I said next surprised both of us. “I don’t think you should come home.”

He dropped my hand, and his relaxed expression turned to confusion. He began bouncing his right leg up and down, causing the couch to shake rhythmically. “I don’t understand. I thought this is what you wanted.”

“It was, it is, but not yet. If you come back now, nothing’ll be different. You’ll still hate your job, and I’ll still feel unappreciated.”

“We can work through that. Unless this is about Michael. Are you in love with him?”

“No, I never was. This has nothing to do with him. I’m never going to see him again.” His shaking was driving me crazy. I put my hand on his leg, and he stopped. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I was confused, and I regret all of it.” I couldn’t look at his face. I didn’t want to see his disappointment.