Norah hadn’t driven to the trailer park in ages. Not since the day Josh had left for boot camp. As soon as she’d graduated high school she’d moved into the UNLV dorms and then, after dropping out, she’d lived in various apartments throughout her 20’s.

She’d driven by the dilapidated trailer hell plenty of times, but she’d never given it a second glance. It was just a minefield of nostalgia and she wasn’t about to go stepping on anything that would make her heart explode.

So she’d avoided it. Until now.

It was hard to keep her hands from shaking as she drove down Tropicana with Macon Moultrie in the back seat of her Lincoln town car. He looked amazing. Of course he did. He was polished, handsome in a tailored suit, his hair freshly cut. Norah wanted to stare at him, but she resisted.

The faster she got him out of her car and back out of her life, the better.

As she pulled into the home of her past, her stomach started to hurt. Being back among the grit and the grime of this place was like reopening an old wound.

Macon’s mom’s place was just as she remembered- a single wide with green shutters and plastic lawn chairs on a green rug outside the front steps. His mother sat in one of them, smoking a cigarette, clearly waiting for him. She looked mostly the same, except for 20 extra pounds. She’d also adopted the old lady hairdo all women seemed to acquire at a certain age. Her hair was completely grey, short, and curly. Her eyes narrowed as Norah parked the car.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect Mom to be out here waiting on me,” Macon said. Norah turned to him and shrugged.

“No problem, I don’t need to get out anyway,” Norah replied. “I doubt she even remembers me. Have a good week. Nice to see you.”

Macon paused for a moment and stared at her.

“That’s it?” he said. “You’re leaving? I thought maybe you could stay for a bit… I mean. I just haven’t seen you in so long. I’d love to catch up.”

Norah shook her head. “I have to go back to work. I don’t have time to catch up today.”

“How about tomorrow?” he asked. “I’m here for the week.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, flatly. “Sorry, did you want to pay with cash or credit?”

He looked at her, stunned at her coldness. He knew that the last time they’d been together had been terrible, but… it was Norah. And he was Macon. At one time, they’d loved each other.

More than anything, in his case.

“Do you take American Express?” he said, his eyes still on her.

“Yes,” she said, holding her hand out for his card.

“Wait,” he wanted to touch her hand, to hold it. But he thought better of it. “Can I at least have your number? Norah, don’t you think it’s incredible that of all the cars I could have gotten into, I was placed in yours? Don’t you think that it’s… a sign of something?”

“It’s a sign I have very bad luck,” she said. “As usual.” His face must have registered the burning retort because suddenly her expression and voice softened. “Please, Macon. I’m barely holding on here. I can’t…”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe this…” He suddenly pulled out a pen from his suit’s jacket pocket. “Let me at least write my number down. In case you change your mind. And Norah, please change your mind. I’d never want to cause you anymore pain. I just want to talk to you.”

“I know,” she said, her voice trembling. “Let me just run your card with the office…”

She used the CB radio to talk to her dispatcher to get the credit card approval. She could barely speak the numbers, but somehow she got it all out.

Macon was right, after all. Of all the fucking cars in Vegas, he had to get in hers.

When she returned his card to him, he handed her a piece of paper, his ten-digit phone number printed in neat and very legible ink. Probably from a pen that cost more than what Norah made per hour.

She was so humiliated for him to see her this way.

“Here,” he said. “Please call me. Or text me. Okay? After you’re home from work or whenever you want. I don’t care what time it is.”

She didn’t even look at the paper, but she placed it in her back pocket. “I can’t promise you anything, Macon. I have to go.”

He nodded. She knew she was breaking his heart, but it was for his own good.

Just like it had been for his own good years ago.

“Bye, Norah,” he said, stepping out of the car, buttoning the top button of his jacket. He leaned in before shutting his door.

“You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

He shut the door and she finally pulled away, the tears streaming down her cheeks before she’d even left the driveway.

* * *

“Was that Norah Pruitt?” his mother asked as he watched her car drive off. He was clutching his chest, absently, broken-hearted at what he’d just experienced.

Norah didn’t even want to talk to him. Didn’t even want to entertain the notion.

Maybe she was married now. But he hadn’t seen a ring. Her eyes were so sad, much sadder than they’d ever been before. Even when they were kids. And her eyes always haunted him.

He still dreamt of her. Even years later.

And now she was gone again.

“You okay?” his mother’s voice brought him back to reality. “Was that her?”

“Yeah,” he said. Somehow he’d been aware enough to pull his carry-on bag out of the car with him. Now he’d wished he’d left it with Norah. So he’d have an excuse to track her down.

“Well, that’s kind of a crazy coincidence,” she replied. “Explains why you look like you’ve seen a damn ghost.”

He smiled. “Yeah, well. I kind of did.”

“She’s still pretty,” Pam Moultrie said as she stood up to hug her only child. “Can’t believe she still lives here after what happened. And driving a limo?”

“Alright, Mom,” Macon said, not wanting to talk about Norah right now. “It was a long flight. I’d like to just rest for a bit. Maybe take you out to dinner later if you’re up for it.”

“Sure,” Pam said. “There’s a new casino open up in Summerlin. They have a good buffet from what I hear and Janice Hibbons says the slots are hot.”

“No buffets,” Macon said. “And definitely no gambling.”

“Mr. Fancy-Pants lawyer is too good for the buffet,” she said as she swung open the screen door to the inside of her trailer. As Macon walked in he couldn’t help but sigh. It still smelled like cigarettes and regrets. The TV was playing an old episode of Dr. Phil.

He slumped down in the recliner across from the same couch his mother had had since he was a kid. He’d sat on that couch with Norah for hours watching television and talking about the future.

A future that he had always been sure would have her in it.

Seeing her again was such a mind fuck. That hadn’t been the way he’d wanted it to go. He’d fantasized about seeing her again so many times. Every time he’d wanted to quit law school, he’d think of her. And how he wanted to be the man she deserved. A man that could fix the past somehow by becoming someone she could love.

And somehow it had all gone to shit anyway.

But he was a lawyer now. And life was good. Every goal he’d set, he’d hit. School was now finally over. He was on his way to so many dreams coming true for him.

But seeing Norah had reminded him how much he still didn’t have. How was it possible to have everything and yet nothing at the same time?