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Martin gives her a look. “He doesn’t want to hang out with his parents after being cooped up in here for five weeks. He probably wants to catch up with friends.”
“No, actually…I don’t have many friends here,” I say. “I’d like to hang out with you guys.”
I catch a glimpse of Graysen’s long blond curls and dart in her direction, saying, “I’ll be right back.”
When I get to her, she smiles. “Congratulations, Alexei.”
“Thank you. That hardly seems like enough to say for what you’ve done.”
“You did the hard part.”
“Hey, will you come meet Martin and Laura?”
“Of course, I’d love to.”
They only have time to shake hands and say hello before everyone takes their seats for the graduation ceremony. An actor, and Beckett alum, who has been eleven years sober gives the keynote, and all of us get a certificate and another medallion for completing the program.
It’s been a little less than two months since the accident, and in that time, my whole life has changed. I don’t dismiss everything with a joke anymore. I take time to think about what I’m going to say before I speak. When I look at others now, I have a new awareness of what they could be struggling with.
I have to focus on physical rehab and staying sober for now. As hard as it will be to live in the same city as Graysen and not see her, I know she’s right. If I don’t put in the work to get back on the ice, or if I go back to drinking, I won’t be the man I want to be for her. She deserves the best.
Jack and Melinda invite Joe and his family and Martin, Laura and me out for lunch after the ceremony. I tell them I’ll meet them at the restaurant and go to Graysen’s office to say goodbye to her.
She’s not there, though. When I find the secretary that all the therapists share, she tells me Graysen’s in a staff meeting that’ll last at least a couple hours.
I’m disappointed I can’t see her one more time. Technically, I’m no longer a patient here, and I wanted us to see each other for the first time as a man and a woman rather than a patient and his therapist.
It wasn’t meant to be, though. I take a box from the duffel bag I’m carrying and slide it onto her desk, then tear a page from a notebook in my bag and set it on top.
I’m slow to leave, taking time to memorize her neat bookshelves and slightly cluttered desk. The coffee mug that says ‘More Cowbell,’ the stack of notebooks in different sizes, and the cream-colored cardigan that’s always hanging on the back of her desk chair.
I take one last look at the couch I’ve sat on so many times, and the chair she listened to me from. I fell in love with Graysen over the past five weeks, both here and in our group sessions, but this room will always be ours in my mind.
This is where it all started. And as I walk out for the last time, emotional about leaving her, I hope to hell it’s not where it’s ending, too.19GraysenThe past week has felt like an eternity.
It’s been seven days since Alexei left Beckett, and I miss him more every day. Today was Intake Day for a new session, and I felt his absence more profoundly than ever as I looked around the faces of my new group and didn’t see him.
I’m tired now, eating Chinese carryout on my couch with a blanket wrapped around me so I don’t get food on Alexei’s hoodie.
He left it for me in a box on my desk, and I cried when I opened it. It’s a blue Austin Comets hoodie that he wore at least once a week at Beckett. It still smells like him, and I’ve put it on after work every evening.
After I opened the box with the hoodie that day, I read the note he left me and cried a fresh round of tears. It’s sitting on my nightstand right now, and I read it several times a day.
Dear Graysen,
I want you in my life. I’ll wait nine months or nine years if I have to. And I know you’re asking yourself right now what waiting means to me. It means no other women. You’re the one I want. I hope you won’t see other men until we can be together, but if you do, make sure you tell them you’re only single until Sept. 14 of next year.
Until then, here’s my favorite hoodie and my cell number. Call me anytime for any reason, day or night.
Alexei
I’ve scanned my eyes over those digits so many times, they’re committed to memory. I want to call him badly, but every time I’m about to, I stop myself. Alexei needs space right now, and I do, too.
