Page 119 of All The Ways to Miss You

My hand shakes when I pick up the photo book, which I now understand was meant to be a travel journal.

“We had mapped out a trip to travel the world after your graduation.” Evan takes the book and sets it on the bed. He steps closer, and I don’t protest when he gathers me into an embrace, because I’m already crying and pressing my wet cheeks into his chest. There were so many experiences we missed out on, so many big plans for a huge life.

Hot tears roll down my cheeks. I grasp his sweater between my fingers. Evan cups the back of my head and shushes me. His calming breath is warm on my neck. We were never given the chance to grieve together. So much was stolen from us.

We remain like this for several moments. When I lean away and peer at him, his eyes are red rimmed. Wetness streaks his cheeks. I wipe my own face with my sleeve.

Though our journeys have been different, he’s had to live with the truth all these years without anyone to understand him. And though I’m only starting to understand what I lost, Evan’s the one person in the world who would truly understand my pain. It sprang from the same moment and launched us in opposite directions, only to boomerang us back together.

“There’s so much to talk about. I don’t even know where to start.” He wipes his eyes, but his eyelashes still stick together in defined points.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“From day one, you made it clear you moved to Chicago for a fresh start. I knew if I acknowledged who you were, you would have run. You were a husk of the old Cait. Anytime I tried to interact, you pushed me away. It’s not an excuse, I know, but I was selfish too. You have no idea how happy I was to see you again, even if it was in passing. I accepted the situation because I wanted you to have a chance to move on without your past haunting you. I just wanted to see you happy.”

“But you flirted with me. For over a year.”

“I didn’t think you noticed or cared.” He shrugs, seeming unsure of himself. “Until one day, you did. Suddenly, we were talking and laughing like old times. You were becoming my Cait again. It was like you were remembering us. And that . . .”

He snags his lip with his teeth. “I tried to stay away, but you hooked me in, offered yourself, and I couldn’t say no. I thought if I had one final night with you, I could say good-bye and move on. But I was wrong. I fell in love with you all over again . . . and that last part I’m not sorry about.”

“I understand, and I feel so much for you too, but—” I pause and watch a single tear drip down his cheek. There’s so much torment behind his stormy eyes. My eyes glaze with tears too.

I grab his hand and squeeze, reassuring him. He smiles and lifts his chin, doing his best to be stoic.

I go on, “I want to remember all the amazing things you saw in us too. Our beginning, our love story, and all the reasons we made these grand plans. Now that I know they exist, that’s all I can think about. At the same time, I need time to process. I only thought I lost myself, and suddenly, I’ve discovered I lost so much more. An entire life. A love. A future. You.”

I swallow and look away, my lip wobbling. My gaze returns to his.

“It’s a lot to absorb. It’s been overwhelming. Almost surreal.” My words are unsure and low. He’s already waited so long, but I’m still mourning the loss of what could have been.

“I get it,” he says with a sad expression. “Take as much time as you need in the apartment. Stay if you want. It never stopped being your place too. I’ll just—I’ll see you around, okay?”

He leaves, and I’m left staring at the spot where he stood. It’s as big as the hole in my heart. I remember standing outside his door after our night together. Inside, I screamed for a chance to see where our relationship would lead.

And now I understand why I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Why my every thought was consumed by Evan and winning him over.

It was because of the bond forged between us years ago. It refused to break, despite the interference of my family, a tragedy, eight hundred miles of distance, or the passing of time.

fifty-eight

I’ve been back at work for a few weeks. All has been normal, and I’ve even made headway on the Lakeman deal. The partners are circling a new property. James has been professional in all interactions, and even nicer, if that’s possible. It shows what a true gentleman he is. Rosemary Cosmetics will be easier to finalize, but I won’t allow myself to get excited until both contracts are executed.

Linden now speaks about our shared past. He holds a strong conviction to fix things between us. This trait makes me understand why he brought me back in the first place. He’s been wearing me down with his Wade charm. He extended an invitation for Christmas Eve, probably hoping Evan and I could reconnect, but I decided to spend the holiday with Aggie and Lou. We took a field trip to Ozzy’s.

Aggie put together a fake silver Christmas tree in Ozzy’s room. Aggie and I decorated it with popcorn strings and paper ornaments, and Lou catered the food. We sang carols while wearing funny holiday hats and drinking frozen concoctions Aggie called Christmas Orgasms. To date, it was the worst drink I’ve ever tasted, but the best holiday in my recollection.

My memories are still spotty but filling in. In a recent checkup, a brain scan found the swelling has receded. This explains the return of some memories, though it fails to explain why the ones of Evan haven’t. This saddens me because I want to remember who I was before my life changed so drastically, and why I fell for Evan the first time.

Aggie and Lou invited me to join them tonight for New Year’s, but I needed some time alone. I’ve found a strange calmness since the last time Evan and I spoke. An acceptance? Perhaps. But more like relief—relief that I meant something to someone, and the years right before were happy. Something I questioned when my family relationships became strained after.

If I had paid attention to what arose inside me, I would have understood something important. Even if I didn’t remember who I was before, my heart did. I vow from this moment to slow down and listen to it more carefully.

I stroll the Lakefront path. Cloudy tendrils of air coil in and out of my mouth and through my thick scarf. The ground glistens with icy patches of snow. The wind whips with a howl, and I burrow into my ankle-length down coat.

When I reach my favorite spot, I find a seat on the retaining wall to view the city. It’s late, maybe two a.m. The city is winding down from the celebratory New Year’s events. High-rises sleep with most windows darkened, which leaves the night sky crystal clear. To my surprise, I find stars.

With thick gloves, I brush the snow away and lie back on the wall with my knees bent and the heels of my snow boots anchored. I stare upward. I dig my hand into my coat pocket for a tissue, but find the photo of Evan and me I stole from my old pinboard weeks ago. I’ve been carrying it around.