"I'm so sorry. To say that was brutal doesn't do it justice. Did he ever tell you why?"
"Not in so many words," she replied.
"Was it just cold feet?"
"Maybe."
"Was there another woman?" he wanted to know.
"No, not as far as I know. I specifically asked him that and regardless of how badly he hurt me, I can honestly say he never once lied to me. So no, I'm sure it wasn't another woman, but I really don't think that was the case."
"Again, I'm very sorry. Being left standing at the altar is unimaginably painful and yet you seem to have dealt with it quite well. Gracefully even. That's rather admirable."
"Thank you. I have tried, that's for sure. For the first couple of months, I was a wreck. I was so hurt and so...embarrassed. Humiliated is the better word. But I'm much stronger now and I have you to thank for a lot of that."
She smiled at him and he remembered why he'd agreed to do this with her. Liz Rafferty was not only a beautiful woman, she was charming and it was that charm that did him in. No, the charm had held him, while her physical beauty and scientific mind that had drawn him to her.
Tanner Bingham was a young, handsome, well-known and highly-respected physicist leading the charge to find the 'Holy Grail of Physics', the so-called 'Theory of Everything' or TOE for short. He'd already published several peer-reviewed papers that had rocked the scientific community and his final paper, which was still under peer review, was the long-awaited-for proof.
In a nutshell, he'd demonstrated the heretofore impossible by showing how quantum mechanics and gravity can and do fit together in a theory he called 'quantum loop-string gravitation' in which string theory is integrated with quantum loop gravity. As with general relativity, only a handful of the brightest scientific minds fully understood the equations which were the hallmarks of his combined theory, but those who did, understood its far-reaching implications. At the tender age of 25, Dr. Bingham was the hands-down favorite to be the winner of a future Nobel Prize in physics and which meant an open-ended ticket to work anywhere in the world he desired.
He'd recently returned to his hometown of Pacific Grove, California, just a stone's throw from the better-known city of Carmel which once boasted actor Clint Eastwood as its mayor. Bingham's father, Tanner, Sr., had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. At his request, his mother, Tammy, had held off telling him until his latest research was published knowing there was nothing he could do but worry and, from his father's perspective, abandon his work, something for which he couldn't bear to be held responsible. Tanner had been devastated when she finally told him as his father had always been his idol and best friend.
He now spent his days working in one of the laboratories of the Naval Post-Graduate School or NPGS located in Monterrey, another better-known city which bordered Pacific Grove, a small town known for golf and less notably, for the heavy fog which often rolled in in an almost literal fashion. Bingham had been at high football games in which the incoming fog bank had slowly 'walked' along the field, engulfing it a yard at a time reducing visibility to almost zero as it went. The Navy had jumped at the chance to even temporarily have a scientist of Professor Bingham's stature gracing its premier research and teaching facility and had given him carte blanche to anything he wanted at any time he so desired.
As much as he loved his work, he needed to be near his mother and his dying father so NPGS was a perfect fit him and the government. Tanner also dearly loved being near the water, and Pacific Grove afforded him that opportunity. In the past, he would often ride his bicycle a few miles out to Pebble Beach, home of the U.S. Open golf tournament that was played there each year, just to sit and think. It was there, sitting near the famous Lone Cypress Tree, that it first occurred to him that the two competing theories could be merged.
That Eureka moment happened three years ago when he'd come home for Christmas while still in graduate school working on his doctorate. Most physicists who'd made significant contributions tended to be in their twenties or early thirties with the most well-know examples being Einstein and Hawking, and Bingham was no exception.
Bingham was not only brilliant when it came to science (math and physics, most notably) he was an exceptionally good-looking young man and not at all handicapped by his superior intellect. Many other such people tended to be socially awkward, but that was not the case with Tanner Bingham.
He'd been dating Lucy Marin since they were sophomores in high school and they'd managed to maintain a reasonably-satisfying, long-distance relationship while he was away at MIT in Massachusetts. Well, until this most recent trip back home anyway.
It had been hard enough to deal with his father's illness, but when Lucy told him she'd found someone else, a fact she'd never mentioned in any text, email, or phone conversation, it was a truly devastating blow. In the back of his mind, in spite of whatever gnawing concerns he'd about her, he'd always felt he knew they would one day marry and he'd given serious thought to asking her to do just that on the flight back to the west coast. He was therefore totally and completely shocked when she told him that evening it was over. And yet, at some level he couldn't explain, he was also deeply relieved.
Their final moments together had been brief and emotionally draining. She was sorry, it wasn't his fault, and several other similar cliches were thrown at him as she made her final exit from his life. She'd found someone else, but her father convinced her she needed to tell him this in person. And just like that, it was over.
Tanner seemingly had everything a young man his age could want and it was almost certain he'd one day also have a ton of money. But the one thing he didn't have...anymore, at least...was love. Then again, he wondered whether or not love was what he'd had with Lucy or if it was a kind of settling. A resignation that they were 'meant to be' or some other meaningless platitude.
Now, when he looked back on his relationship with Lucy honestly, he wasn't sure it even qualified as love. He thought he'd loved her and, for the most part, had even believed he was in love with her. But even with her, there had been something missing. There was no real...connection. There was nothing that did what the poets said love was supposed to do. His logical mind told him that was probably normal and his proposed 'missing link' nothing more than the stuff of poets; a kind of lofty, unattainable love that existed only within the lines of poetry and prose.
Why then had he felt so deeply alone for so long in spite of his 'being in love' with Lucy? For now, he didn't have an answer to that question, he only knew that his work, the work that drove him to labor day and night, had filled the void. Now that his work was done—or at least that chapter of his life's work—the loneliness was back with a vengeance. A loneliness he'd hoped and expected Lucy to fill.
Still stinging from the breakup, it was such a relief to have met someone as beautiful and charming as Liz Rafferty, a young Navy officer attending the Naval Post Graduate School with an emphasis in nuclear physics. Bingham had agreed to teach one class as a sort of payment for what was otherwise free-reign of an entire lab's worth of very expensive, very sophisticated, cutting-edge equipment. He'd been home for almost three months and hadn't yet been on a single date by the time the Post-Graduate school year began just after Labor Day.
He'd noticed her immediately, sitting in the front row with her long, blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her face was exquisitely symmetrical and he found it difficult, if not impossible, not to stare. Even in uniform, he could see this Navy lieutenant's body was nothing short of miraculous.
Additionally, they shared a bond. A bond of heartache with her having been abandoned on her wedding day and Bingham having had his own heart broken by the only girl he'd loved or...thought he'd loved. Their bond was strengthened upon learning both events had happened on the same day—a fact completely unknown to the other. Lastly, while she was nowhere near being his peer in the world of physics, she was exceptionally bright and talented. Bingham knew this introductory, graduate-level class in nuclear physics would be no challenge to her after grading the baseline exam he gave to all new students.
A invitation for a cup of coffee in the NPGS cafeteria after the first day of class had turned into dinner that weekend. Dinner soon became a weekend spent together in San Diego for a conference on particle physics, and the two were inseparable thereafter. And yet there was something about this relationship, too, that set off warning bells in Bingham's head. He couldn't put his finger on it, but just as it had with Lucy, something felt...wrong.
Adding to the heavy burden he was already carrying, his father passed away two days before Christmas, casting a pall on what had always been his favorite holiday of the year. Liz had gone home to Wisconsin to be with her family leaving yet another hole in Bingham's heart as he struggled with his grief. Lucy hadn't even bothered to show up for his father's memorial service, and as much as he knew his mother needed him, Bingham feared he was on the verge of falling into a deep depression.
His greatest accomplishment was behind him, his only love nothing but a memory, and the man he'd looked up to all of his life was now gone with Liz nowhere to be found. That wasn't true in the absolute sense but rather in the physical. Liz had called him several times expressing her condolences and assuring him she was still very much interested in continuing their relationship, but that had done little to assuage his grief or fill the hole in his soul.
Perhaps what troubled him most about her was her obsession with the Nobel Prize. It was awarded annually and the announcement was made on the 10th of December. Bingham knew he had zero chance of winning that year and gave it no thought, but Liz spoke it so often it began to eat away at him. The chances were excellent for the following year as that would give the scientific community additional time to analyze his work which had already been confirmed by some of the most brilliant minds in the field of physics. Perhaps it nothing more than a genuine concern on her part; an acknowledgment she appreciated the gravity of his research. But a million dollars was a very strong motive for 'love' and Bingham couldn't shake the feeling something just wasn't right when it came to Liz.
Somehow he made it through the end of the year, then took heart when the first day of classes rolled around. It was now early January, Liz was back, and he had something to look forward to other than work to fill his days.
On the romantic front, Valentine's Day was fast approaching. Bingham remembered Liz telling him one of her other passions was dancing. She loved physics and was actually very good at it—at least good enough to be a nuclear engineer for the United States Navy, but she truly loved to dance. So much so, she'd invited him to a Valentine's Day soirée at NPGS where a live band would be playing and where hundreds of couples would be dancing the night away on the most romantic day of the year.
Not being socially awkward, Bingham had no real issue with dancing, he'd just never spent any time learning how. Then again, he'd had no reason to bother until meeting Liz. Holding a girl, like Lucy, during a slow dance and just turning in circles had always been good enough for both him and the girl with whom he was dancing, so there'd been no impetus to try something as drastic as taking lessons.
