“You can’t be serious.” “T’m absolutely serious.” “Evelyn, we haven’t even seen each other in years.” “I know you were able to forget me,” I said. “I know you were with Joan. I’m sure you were with others.” I waited, hoping she would correct me, hoping she would tell me there had been no one else. But she didn’t. And so I continued. “But can you honestly say that you stopped loving me?” “Of course not.” “And I can’t say that, either. I have loved you every single day.” “You married someone else.” “I married him because he helped me forget you,” I said. “Not because I stopped loving you.” I heard Celia breathe deeply. “Tll come to L.A.,” I said. “And you and I will have dinner. OK?” “Dinner?” she said. “Just dinner. We have things to talk about. I think we at least owe each other a nice, long talk. How about the week after next? Harry can watch Connor. I can stay for a few days.” Celia was quiet again. I could tell she was thinking. I got the impression that this was a deciding moment for my future, our future. “OK,” she said. “Dinner.” kk * THE MORNING I left for the airport, Max slept in late. He was supposed to be on set later in the afternoon for a night shoot, so I squeezed his hand good-bye and then grabbed my things from the closet. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to take Celia’s letters with me or not. I had kept them all, with their envelopes, in a box at the back of my closet. Over the past few days, as I was gathering what I would take, I packed them and then unpacked them, trying to decide. I had been rereading them every day since Celia and I started talking. I didn’t want to be apart from them. I liked to run my fingers over the words, feeling the way the pen had embossed the paper. I liked hearing