James was running on the treadmill in time to the quick tempo music blasting in his ears. He was interrupted by an incoming text that lit up his phone sitting in the machine cradle.

Hi, I’m coming to NYC this weekend. Dinner?

Maddy.

The sender’s name startled him and almost made him fall off the treadmill. He caught his balance and turned up the speed making his long legs run faster, faster, focusing on moving, trying not to think.

After his workout, he rested for a moment on the change room bench, still sweating. He scratched at the scar on his lower left side that bothered him when he was stressed. A flush crept into his cheeks, remembering her rejection, the hurt and heartbreak, as if it was yesterday.

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

Back at his apartment, he showered, changed, and towel-dried his curly brown hair. He pulled out the small blue box from the back of the bedside table draw, pocketed it in his sweatpants, and headed into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine. He needed the mind escape of a drink or two.

In the living room, he sank into his favorite leather club chair where he loved to read, think, or just look out over the stunning Manhattan skyline. He selected “Song for My Father,” a moody jazz piece complimenting his emotions. He opened the little box, sliding the engagement ring onto his pinky finger, twirling the twinkling diamond.

He needed to talk to someone. He called Ali. She always offered sensible advice.

“Hey, Maddy is coming to town, and she wants to see me. I don’t know if it is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You know she broke my heart.” He could say it calmly now, but he had been shattered when Maddy chose another man over him. “I haven’t seen her in five years.”

 “Why is she coming?”

“Not sure. She asked to meet and suggested dinner. But what’s the point of seeing her?”

“It’s just a meal.”

“She married someone else.”

“Friends can have dinner.”

Ali was right. He texted Maddy back. French bistro on Spring St, 8pm Friday.

Incoming buzz. Thumbs up.

He sighed. Hopefully this was not a mistake.

Walking to the restaurant, repressed images of their college romance flooded his memory. He was a senior when he met Maddy in her sophomore year. He remembered the first moment he noticed her sitting in class, writing in her bright red notebook with a matching mechanical pencil, half-closing her eyes and biting her lip as she concentrated.

They were both computer science majors and she wanted to use computational approaches to study cancer. She was gorgeous, confident, and smart, and he sometimes felt intimidated by her beauty and charm. Nerd that he was, he enjoyed their conversations about data, analysis, philosophical approaches to computation as well as computational philosophy.

It took enormous courage to ask her out, but it worked. They became fast friends and lovers. He fell head over heels for Maddy, in an old-fashioned, intense, first-love kind of way. She was a free spirit, joyfully chasing intellectual and physical adventures; she pulled him out of his shell, made him feel alive.

So many precious memories. Drinking and joking with friends at their local bar. Enjoying movies in the campus theatre, eating buckets of popcorn. Walking in the park holding hands, laughing as they ran for cover in summer rain. Curled up reading by the fire and enjoying a glass of red wine after hiking up Equinox Mountain in Manchester, Vermont. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Maddy’s approach to life was liberating and exhilarating, surprisingly complementary to his grounded and logical style.

They dated for a year. He believed Maddy was The One. He could see a future together, hence the pretty ring.

Or so he thought.

She came over to his dorm room one night and announced that she was too young to settle down. How could she be sure she was ready to commit to him for life?

Oh, and she had met another guy.

He was dumped, without ceremony.

Maybe he understood her point of view; they were only in their early twenties. He didn’t ask which came first: stop loving him or meet someone else. While he was certain Maddy was the love of his life, he was more sad than angry that she didn’t reciprocate. She was gone; how could he fight for her when she had already moved on to someone else?

After they broke up, his friends offered the usual useless platitudes: first loves don’t last, there are many other fish in the sea, you are so young, better to know now. But he took it hard, skipping classes, spending his time in his dorm room alone, lying on his bed. He barely ate and lost weight. Sleep temporarily took away the present and his pain.

He finally surfaced; he and his life seemed colorless and thin. He decided he would concentrate on his studies. He didn’t need anyone. Toughen up!

What went wrong, he asked himself, yet again. Was he too introverted? Not romantic enough? Too commonsensical in showing his love? Poor? He didn’t have the means to shower her with presents, trips, or take her to fancy parties, and anyway, that wasn’t his style.

Did you ever fall out of love if you weren’t the one to break it off? It didn’t go away, you had to manage it, minimize it. To survive a broken heart, he had buried his unreturned feelings, chalking it up as a learning experience. What else could he do?

Now Maddy was reaching out, and he felt...hope.

He arrived at the bistro and gripped the iron door handle. He paused and reminded himself Maddy was married. What was the point of feeling hopeful?

His heart tumbled when he saw her sitting at the small round table in a stylish gray suit. She turned to look up at him as he came closer, shiny black hair swinging back revealing her long neck. How should he greet his old college lover? She stood halfway and they awkwardly hugged and air kissed.

“It’s good to see you, Maddy” he said, noticing her pale complexion and dusty purple bags under tired eyes. “How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, it’s really good to see you too,” she said, smiling. “It’s been too long!”

They exchanged stilted small talk, interrupted by the waiter taking their orders then pouring their drinks. Bread appeared. Gradually the background noise receded, as if they were insulated in a bubble, the only people in the restaurant.

The conversation turned more personal. “So, James, how are you, really? It’s been five years. I haven’t heard about you on the alumni grapevine.”

“I’ve been busy. I started an artificial intelligence company called Ali, named after my sister Alison,” he said, subconsciously sitting up taller.

“AI is hot right now. What does your company do?”

“Well, we buy tranches of data and use it to predict all kinds of behavior: consumer purchases, financial investments, health patterns, even dating. We are developing two platforms, a traditional AI search engine and a prototype conversational program.”

“You were always interested in human behavior.” Maddy was quiet for a moment, then suddenly blurted out, “James, are you seeing anyone?”

What should he say? You dumped me and I couldn’t bear that happening again. I don’t trust myself in the dating world. He hated the dating apps, the filtered photos, the swiping, the first dates, the only dates. Besides, he was fine being alone.

“I haven’t had time for dating.”

“Sounds dull, Mr. Workaholic. Could you show me around your beloved New York City this weekend? That will get you out and about.”

He hesitated. Was Maddy flirting with him?

He wanted to ask about her husband, but he didn’t want to know the answer.

“Okay. Let’s meet at Columbus Circle at nine tomorrow morning.”

New Yorkers treasure the arrival of spring. Soft warm air and sudden green grass in the parks in June represent the beginning of the year more than January ever can. Colorful flower bulbs emerge from the hard ground bringing an annual surprise.

What a delightful weekend! On Saturday they walked through Central Park, his favorite place in New York City, went to an off-Broadway show, and ate a late dinner at a busy restaurant. Although, to be honest, he was so focused on Maddy he barely tasted the food.

On Sunday, the ferry ride to the Statue of Liberty felt like the first time, though they had made the trip before. They sat on the long wooden seats upstairs, enjoying the sunshine and breeze off the water. He snuck glances at Maddy’s beautiful face, charmed by her lovely smile and boisterous laugh. They talked easily about work, her family, movies they had seen recently, books they were reading. He was surprised how quickly they slipped back into easy conversation. Being with Maddy felt so natural.

Careful, careful.

They could see the Statue of Liberty in the distance, a tall blue-green welcoming symbol of freedom.

They talked about his company. Maddy seemed especially interested that he was working on a dating app.

“I think the app companies have a conflict because they are invested in not making too many successful matches, so people keep using their services,” she said.

“Yes, that could be their agenda — a few matches for publicity, but not too many so people keep swiping. But they would never admit that. My goal is to predict more successful long-lasting matches based on physical and emotional compatibility, by analyzing and integrating all the user’s detailed experiences of each date. I want to help people find their soulmate.”

Maddy was quiet for a moment. “That’s ambitious, don’t you think? Do you really believe in soulmates?”

He rushed to answer. “Of course I do! And we are finally able to find them, unbound by all the past societal expectations of gender or sexuality or race or religion. Our laws allow anyone to marry. Love is love. We’ve come a long way.”

The breeze picked up and Maddy shivered. As he gently placed his coat on her shoulders, she turned her head and looked at him and smiled, her gorgeous eyes sparkling in the sunlight. His heartbeat quickened, and he felt warmth flushing his face.

With a jolt, he realized he was still in love with Maddy. He’d never stopped loving her. He’d simply camouflaged his love, built a room in his chest and stuffed it in and locked the door; it was not eliminated.

For some reason, their Greek philosophy college seminar came to mind, and he thought of Plato’s Symposium, a beautiful discussion of the various types of love from the goddess Aphrodite, that strangely still rang true.

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by all the love he felt for Maddy.

He sighed. What could he do with his sudden awareness?

Nothing.

But, if he was able to, what would he do differently this time, so she felt truly loved? Be less analytical, more communicative and express his feelings, live more in the moment, and...

Stop! What was he thinking?

He quickly changed the romantic radio station in his head.

They were pulling into the Ellis Island dock. “Imagine coming here to the U.S. and going through the immigration center with only a small suitcase. The doctors examined people at Ellis Island and if they had medical problems, even minor ones, they were put back on the ship. The officials didn’t accept anyone who might be a burden. How heartbreaking if they couldn’t stay.”

“Yes, but if you were healthy, it was the ultimate new beginning.” Maddy kept looking ahead.

Was she referring to something personal? He still did not dare ask why Maddy was in New York City. He knew he was being a coward.

He called Ali during the week. “I had a wonderful time with Maddy this weekend. The dinner turned into a sightseeing adventure. Being together felt perfect, just like before.”

 “That’s nice.” This noncommittal reply was probably what he deserved.

“Maddy seems to have a lot going on. I’m not sure why she came here, why she looked me up.”

“You’ll learn soon.”

He decided to confess. “I realized I am still in love with her.”

“What? Not a good idea, James. Where can this go?”

Ali was always calm and rational.

His older sister Alice was the inspiration for his AI company. When he was sixteen, Alice’s kidneys suddenly stopped working, and she went on dialysis. A kidney transplant would give her a normal life, so as soon as he was old enough, he gave her his spare. He really wanted to do this for Alice, his lovely, kind, tough sister; he knew she would have done the same for him.

He was able to be a donor for Alice, but what about people who didn’t have a good family match? That’s when he learned about kidney donor chains. Connections form between living kidney donors and recipients to make a kidney transplant possible for people who don’t have a matched relative.

But how could a sick person find such an unrelated donor? The most common way people registered to be an organ donor was when they applied for their driver’s license, a unique and precious postmortem gift. James wanted to identify people who were willing to register to be part of a donor chain while they were alive. However, this proved very difficult as he couldn’t find useful data that could predict who would donate a kidney in a donor chain. Although his efforts to develop reliable donor chains weren’t successful, the concept of utilizing all kinds of data to predict behavior became the basis for his company.

James wanted to see Maddy again, even though he knew he shouldn’t. He booked a meeting for later in the week with his Boston investors and a return train fare.

In his assigned seat, he turned on his computer to work. He usually enjoyed train travel; less fuss to get going and a slower swaying pace. But he was distracted and kept pulling up Maddy’s number, writing a text and deleting it. Finally, he shook off his hesitation and called her. “I’ll be in Boston soon. Can we meet tonight?”

She sounded surprised. “Sure, there’s a coffee shop in my new building.”

“How about six?”

He never considered he was the type to have an extramarital affair. His company had recently been asked if they could tell if someone was having an affair. He knew it was possible using GPS data to reveal secretive rendezvous locations as well as purchasing behavior such as indulgent gifts for the lover. Also, someone who had a previous affair could more easily engage in another, as they had overcome any internal objections to cheating.

Was there any data that could predict a first future affair? Perhaps still loving an ex-lover?

As the train pulled into the station, he grabbed his overnight bag and buttoned up his light coat. He met with his investors and was free by 5 p.m. He decided to walk to the address Maddy had texted him; it would be refreshing.

He arrived at the café and went inside. At a corner table, he waited, enjoying the pleasant coffee aroma. Did Maddy still take her coffee the same?

She was punctual as usual.

“Why are you in Boston?”

“To meet with investors.”

And because of you.

They chatted a little longer, but it was difficult to pay attention to her words. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and she was looking intently at him. He was certain he could feel an attraction between them.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said abruptly.

They went outside and walked into the lobby of Maddy’s building, standing silently side by side waiting for the elevator.

Could she hear his heart thumping?

It was even more charged alone in the confined space of the elevator as they both stared straight ahead.

She took her keys out of her handbag and unlocked the door of her apartment.

The small living area was sparsely furnished with bland rental furniture: a settee, a single chair, a coffee table. No rug, no TV, no art on the walls, no photos. The kitchen looked barely used. He caught sight of an unmade bed in a room to one side and a bathroom on the other.

He finally understood the reason for Maddy’s awkwardness.

“He left six months ago,” she said quietly, looking down. “The divorce papers came last week.” Her face was red. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

 Before he could stop himself, he leaned in and instinctively wrapped his arms around her, inhaling her lovely perfume.

A few moments later he pulled away, not trusting himself.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know when our relationship fell apart. Our marriage was never perfect, but I thought we were okay. We were both working hard, he was always travelling, and somewhere along the way it started to feel as if we were roommates, coming and going on our own schedules, barely talking.”

There was silence as he tried to think of what to say next. Part of him was sad for Maddy, of course, but ... was this an opening for him?

“I was an idiot, too young and immature. He was older, wilder, more demonstrative. He made me feel alive, as if I was on an edge. I fell hard for him.”

James understood; that’s how Maddy had made him feel.

“Until then, you were the only person I had been in love with. I chose his effervesce over your steadfast love. I should have been more patient. What a fool I was.”

How could he respond to that?

“He burned bright, then burned out. In the end, I was simply a shiny new thing, and he became bored. We should never have married. He seemed to stop loving me, or maybe he never did. Too many maybes.”

He could feel Maddy’s hurt. There was surely more to the story. It’s difficult to describe a relationship, let alone the end of a marriage. Could you ever truly know someone, even when you lived with them? What secrets did they keep? Did her husband have affairs while he was traveling? At what moment was it truly over?

“Honestly,” Maddy said, “since he left, I’ve been slowly getting used to the quiet, to being alone. I was lonelier when I was married. I now know the way to feel settled is to rely on myself.”

He agreed with that; he didn’t like to depend on others either.

Was this why she had contacted him? Now that she was single again, had she realized she still loved him, that his love could be enough?

He took a slow breath. He wanted to tell Maddy he was still in love with her, but he knew he shouldn’t. She was still processing the demise of her marriage, and there was no indication she still felt anything for him.

He left to catch his train.

Even so, he couldn’t wait to tell Ali.

“Maddy is getting a divorce.”

“Be careful. She broke your heart.”

Yes, he already knew Ali would say they were not destined to be together. Heck, any search engine would tell you not to see someone again who had dumped you once.

Into the silence, Ali announced, “Why would the outcome be any different this time around.”

Sadly, his data-loving brain was aligned with Ali’s verdict. It was definitely not a good idea to get back together with an ex-lover who left you for another man. He should protect his heart.

In NYC, the rest of the week passed quickly. As he was going to a meeting on the upper east side of Manhattan, he saw a familiar figure rushing ahead of him. What was Maddy doing here? Why didn’t she tell him she was coming?

He raced to catch up with her, but she suddenly turned and walked into the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. He followed her into the hospital, and she disappeared into an elevator. Was she visiting someone?

He rescheduled his meeting and sat on a large lobby bench to wait.

An hour later, Maddy came out of the elevator and stopped as she saw James, her eyebrows closing over stormy eyes.

“What are you doing here? You followed me?”

 “Not really. I saw you on the street and tried to catch you. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you here at the cancer hospital?”

Maddy sighed, but was silent.

“Let’s grab a coffee,” he said.

She hesitated, then followed him slowly to the courtyard, where he bought two hot drinks. These round tables had overheard countless sad stories of cancer and pronouncements of death.

Maddy inhaled deeply.

“I wasn’t going to tell you, but you’ve found me here. I have a rare skin cancer called Merkel cell carcinoma.”

“What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s an aggressive type of skin cancer. It’s what killed Jimmy Buffett. I was diagnosed a couple of years ago and had surgery to remove it.”

He was quiet. So many questions were running through his mind.

“How long do the doctors say you have?”

“If it hasn’t spread to the glands at the time they find it, like my cancer, about three quarters of people live over five years. I think that’s respectable odds.”

“Is that why you are in NYC?”

“Yes, for my checkups. Last time, the doctor felt something in my armpit, so I had a scan today. But everything is okay, thank goodness. It’s such a relief.”

Maddy was speaking calmly but fat tears pooled in her eyes, spilling over her lower lids, falling down her cheeks.

“I’ve been living with this for a while, James. I’m used to it. I try not to let it overwhelm me but use it to keep everything in perspective. I take less for granted now.”

“Oh Maddy...”

He clenched his fists under the table, trying to stay calm.

“It’s a lot to deal with. That’s why I didn’t tell you. But...”

But, what?

“I know it’s selfish, but I really wanted to see you...”

“Why?”

“To hear directly from you if there was someone else in your life.”

He was having trouble concentrating. He had found the love of his life again, she was newly single, she wanted to see him... and she was dying?

Cancer. The Big C. Was this why Maddy’s scumbag husband had left?

He knew he should stay there and support Maddy. But he had lost Maddy once, how could he bear to lose her again if she didn’t have long to live? He was a scumbag too.

Now he recalled another memory he had tried to forget, lying on the hospital bed next to lifeless Alice. He lifted his head as a white-coated doctor walked in and said something he couldn’t hear. He put his head down again, a wet patch expanding on the sheet next to his face.

His body began overreacting: shallow breathing, sweaty palms, fuzzy vision. His heartbeat picked up the pace and soon it was racing, about to explode out of his chest. He hadn’t had a panic attack in years.

He needed to get out of this musty cancer hospital.

He stood up abruptly, dizzy, bumping the table and sending the coffees flying. He whispered, “I have to go.”  He knew he shouldn’t leave Maddy right now, but there was nothing he could do, he ran out of the hospital as his world came crashing in.

Somehow, he made it back to his apartment and collapsed on the bed, fully clothed. He fell into a fretful sleep, waking in a sweat, his dream vivid. This was a recurring dream where he was running fast, the sun behind him as he chased his elongating shadow. He could never see who was after him or what he was running from.

He couldn’t get back to sleep but lay there with his arms folded behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, waiting for dawn light.

The first cup of coffee hit right. Finally, he was able to think more clearly about what Maddy had told him.

He called Ali. “Maddy has a rare skin cancer.”

“What type?”

“It’s called Merkel cell carcinoma.”

“That’s what killed Jimmy Buffett.”

“How does everyone know that except me?”

James did some more research. Touching the skin sent a message to this special Merkel cell receptor, which was then relayed to the brain.

When the cells become cancerous, they form an ugly red lump in the skin. Did their expansion result in faulty sensations or cause runaway signals to the brain? Did it cause pain? How could these receptor cells lose their skin attachments and metastasize to the glands?

Given his work in AI and neural networks, he could understand this cell as a transducer of information, a node in a data pathway. He would have found these cells interesting and worthy of study if their malignant transformation wasn’t the cause of Maddy’s cancer. Perhaps there were opportunities for him to develop new treatments through computational methods, as Maddy had wanted to do when she was in college.

He put on his gym clothes and shoes and headed outside for a run. He warmed up, not minding where he went today. The fresh air and movement calmed him. He always enjoyed the beginning of his outdoor runs, as his breathing found it’s rhythm and his feet pounded the pavement in time to the music from his running playlist. It was like dancing.

So, now that he knew Maddy was sick, what should he do with his love? Why did this feel different?

He didn’t know if he could rekindle something with Maddy when he might lose her again. How would that work? To let his guard down and let Maddy back into his life, but with an expiry date, a deadline? Could her life be like a song, of known duration?

His heart and head were in conversation: his heart said go, his head said no.

He was scared; he’d lost too many people he loved. His sister to illness, and Maddy to another guy. He didn’t know if he could take it.

But why did he not want to accept this?

All he could think about was Maddy. Her prognosis was not certain. No one knows how long they will live. Maddy had more notice, advance warning that life was not infinite.

Suddenly he realized the AI algorithms would not work for him this time. Love was not predictable. It didn’t matter to him why they had broken up before. His usual detached logical analysis was clashing with his very real human emotions; his heart was winning.

Even a few years loving Maddy was better than none. He wanted to be there to love and support her through this health mess, to make precious new memories together. He wasn’t afraid if she died in his arms; the pain would bear witness and remind him of their love.

Before he knew it, he was calling Maddy. “Can I see you?”

There was a short silence.

“OK, come over.”

He grabbed his coat and ran to Maddy’s hotel. He knocked on the door and she opened it, her eyes puffy. She sat back down on the single chair in the hotel room.

He blurted out, “Maddy, I love you, I never stopped loving you.” Now, he could feel the tears building up in his eyes, blurring his vision, tears he had been holding back for years. “I don’t care what happened to us in the past. I want a second chance. Captain Wentworth style?” he asked hopefully.

Maddy laughed, surprising him, given how serious everything seemed.

“You haven’t changed at all. You are an old soul.” She stood up. “I was the one who broke up with you. I have no right to ask you for anything.”

“I know, but you could use a friend, let’s start there.” He leaned in and hugged Maddy closely. He wanted to protect her: from her sickness, her separation, her loneliness.

His face flushed and his heart pounded, but this time it wasn’t panic, it was anticipation.

“I know I was overly analytical back then, so hooked on data, inside of my own head too much...I can do better, I know I can.”

Maddy interrupted. “That wasn’t the problem, James, it wasn’t you, it was me. I just didn’t know a good thing when I saw it. You were great, you are still such a wonderful guy. You know how to love me, how to make me feel like the only person in the room.” She paused. “I’ve really missed you.”

She hadn’t said she loved him, but it was enough. “Let’s see what happens, where this goes,” he whispered, tenderly stroking her soft hair. “I’m not scared of losing you. I’m more scared of not loving you. I’m here for you, for however long we have.”

This was not a question for Ali. After all, computers could only process and integrate data, calculate the probability of an outcome and suggest a path forward. This unemotional output was both a strength and a limitation. They did not feel. They did not hope. They did not choose.

No one knows the future, no computer program, no person; it was unknown to all.

Only humans could decide what they would do, whether it was logical or irrational.

And what he was experiencing right now, choosing a future with Maddy, filled him with a very human and wonderful happiness.

Maddy was looking up at him with glistening green eyes, nodding, smiling gently, holding him tightly.

The sparkly Tiffany engagement ring burnt a hole in his pocket. Not yet, he thought, that might frighten her off. But maybe, one day, he hoped the finger it was purchased for would wear this ring, one day in the future, their future.