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was thrown off again by her apparent attitude. It was almost apologetic. He tried to remind himself that is was a ruse, that the moment he gave into her she would begin to revert back into what she was previously, but it was impossible to deny some seed of his former feelings had been stirred. After all, he’d spent years with this person. Years. Could he easily throw that all away? And for what, a shot with Alana? She hadn’t even picked up his call this morning. Probably, she was already upset with him.
    Sure, he felt powerfully for Alana. More powerfully than for any woman he felt something for thus far. But it was just the passion of fresh lov e, the nostalgia of their history. Right? Mark felt confused. Maybe calling Alana again wasn’t a good idea. Not until he had this sorted. After all, Tammy had come all this way just for a chance to cook him his favorite meal, and he’d responded by being suspicious, rude, and hurtful.
    The point was, he thought, how could he justify giving up years of marriage (though granted, they were now divorced) for a woman who probably thought he was a rebound? Mark sighed. Yes, Tammy was manipulative. Yes, there relationship had been trapped in a cycle of secrets and power plays. But maybe, just maybe there was something still there. Didn’t he owe it to both of them to check one last time? He had been concerned that Alana would think he still had feelings for his ex-wife. Maybe he was really more concerned that she would think this because it was the truth. Before he could do anything with Alana, he needed to talk to Tammy one last time. Mark scrolled to Tammy’s number in contacts, pressed the call button, and waited. Yes, he owed it to himself to check. But deep down, he knew: he just wanted her gone for good without any question that he had made the wrong decision.

 
    Chapter Five
     
    Alana glanced down at her phone, doing exactly what she had promised herself she wouldn’t do. She’d planned on picking up the phone when Mark called the third time. Only he hadn’t. Now, here she was, wishing she’d picked up and listened to his explanation. In an attempt to save face and reestablish communication at the same time, Alana sent Mark a short text:
    Sorry I missed your calls. Was out for a walk. What’s up?
    She then put on a pair of bi king shorts, walked out to her aunt’s garage, and took her old bike off its rack. Alana was pleased to find that, apparently, it was still in good shape.
    The day was still bright as she rode down the asphalt road, smiling with pleasure at being reunited once again with her trusty steel steed. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going, and was deciding whether to go on one of the bike trails or head into town when Mark’s car in his grandfather’s driveway pulled into view. What had happened? It never occurred to her that Mark hadn’t called because he was hurt, or had just gotten bad news - on top of his divorce and the death of his grandfather. She pulled beside his driveway, lowering the kick stand with one leg. I’ll just check to make sure he’s okay.
    She peaked through the front window adjacent to the door, looking for him inside. Seeing no one there, she gave the door a soft knock. No one answered.
    “Hello? Mark?”
    Right at that moment, it occurred to Alana how utterly pathetic it might look if Mark found that she had come by his house when he hadn’t called. Pathetic and crazy. She turned around at a dash back to her bike, but it was too late. Mark answered.
    “Alana? Hey, I got your message. Listen, I really wanted to explain -”
    “I’ve gotta go. I’ll catch you on my way back, okay?” she said it and didn’t wait for a response, and was back on her bike and down the road before Mark could think of one.
    Alana decided to go on a bike trail. It was evening now, and the sun would be setting soon, but she didn’t want to risk running into Mark later in town. Of the paths she used to frequent as a child, her