Until I Find You - Rea Frey Page 0,26

by what was happening to me.”

“Do you think Jake would have been scared?”

I shake my head. “Probably not.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Sad that I didn’t give him a chance or reach out when I was diagnosed.” The words slip out before I can rein them in.

“Have you talked to him since you broke up?”

“No. Once he moves on, he moves on, but I don’t know … I miss him. I want to know how he’s doing, how his life has turned out. On the way here, he sent me a direct message and I answered him.” I shift uncomfortably. “We’re meeting for coffee right after this.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

I hesitate. “Excited … like a part of me that’s been buried is about to come alive again.”

“Because you feel like Jake knows you?”

I nod. “For so many years, I’ve only been ‘Rebecca-who’s-losing-her-sight’ and Chris was the guy who loved me anyway. But Jake knows a different version.”

“The sighted version?”

I nod. “I know I was only twenty-six, but I feel like a part of me died when he left. As dramatic as that sounds, considering everything that’s actually happened.”

“That doesn’t sound dramatic at all. That sounds honest.” Dr. Gibbons leans forward. “Here’s what I think. Have the coffee. See how you feel.”

“But isn’t that dangerous? To project all that grief or loss on an ex-boyfriend?”

“Are you projecting? Or are you simply reconnecting with someone you once loved?”

Love. I fold my hands on my lap. “Then why does it feel like a betrayal?”

“Because you still love your husband. When a partner dies unexpectedly, it’s confusing. There’s no end to the relationship. You didn’t choose for your marriage to be over, right? There’s no finality there.” Dr. Gibbons scribbles something on a pad, then leans forward again, so much that I can smell spearmint on her breath. “But it’s not an either-or situation. Chris knows you loved him, but he’s gone, Rebecca. As painful as that is to hear. You can honor his memory and still have future relationships. Maybe not now, but someday.” She rests her pen on the pad. “The only person you harm in not moving on is yourself.”

“That makes sense.” The words echo in my ears: he’s gone. Chris is gone. So many things have been taken from me, but here’s something I can give to myself.

“What are you thinking?”

I don’t rush to fill the silence. Finally, when my thoughts are gathered, I speak. “I’m thinking I really do want to see Jake.”

“Then go see him. You owe it to yourself.”

We quickly make another appointment, and as I rise from my chair and find the door, I turn. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“You’re welcome,” she says. “Now go have some fun.”

10

BEC

I explode onto the street with renewed purpose. I expected to tell Dr. Gibbons my plan to meet Jake and for her to give me a lecture about the past. Instead, I somehow got the permission I didn’t know I needed.

I call a Lyft, voice text Jake, and anxiously wait. I ask the driver’s name as soon as I climb into the car. I slick on some lip gloss, blot my forehead and nose, and take deep, yogic breaths. For the first time in eleven years, I’m going to see my ex-boyfriend. Scratch that: not ex-boyfriend.

The love of my life.

Like all past relationships, I’d filed away my time with Jake. When I got married, I knew it wasn’t fair to Chris to mentally obsess over an ex-boyfriend, so I never brought him up. He was like a secret I hoarded for myself, but the emotional baggage would stalk me in the quieter moments, alone. Only then would he invade my heart like a disease.

After a short ride, the Lyft driver grinds to a stop. I thank him, ask which way to exit, and unfold my cane. Will Jake be inside or out? We didn’t get that far via text. My limbs pulse with adrenaline as I gather my bearings on the sidewalk.

“Rebecca.”

My name floats from Jake’s lips, and my entire body freezes. I’d forgotten how much I missed his voice. I turn in his direction, suddenly self-conscious about the cane and the dark glasses, but he crushes me against him before I can even take a step. His smell intoxicates me. His battered leather jacket and familiar aftershave give me a visceral reaction, and I let out a surprised cry. My lips smash into his neck, and I hold him tighter than I’ve ever held anyone. City