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She’s thoughtful, as I explain. I’ve never appreciated a sunshine-y ‘everything’s gonna work out’ disposition. Give me honesty over false positivity any day. When Noah reminds me I only need one ‘yes’, she’s sincere. It’s a change in perspective I need.
With the air cleared, I can’t keep my eyes off of Noah. I’m trying to pay attention, and not stare, as she talks. I work to look at something other than her unworldly eyes. She’s gorgeous tonight, and I’m ashamed that I can’t focus on anything else.
I listen as discusses her new client. The way the skin around her eyes crinkles and her forehead creases when she searches for just the right word to add to her story mesmerizes me. Short baby hairs have escaped her ponytail and frame her face, her freckles dramatic against ivory skin.
“Can I ask about your wife?” Noah’s words pull me back to my seat.
I want to share Hannah with her, but how do I do it without breaking down? My lack of an immediate answer causes her to mumble, “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”
“I want to talk about it . . . I just don’t know how. I’ve not talked about her much—maybe not at all—with someone who didn’t know her before she died.” The finality of the worddieddoesn’t land any softer today than it did when the doctor met me in the hospital hallway to deliver the news. “What would you like to know?” I cross my fingers that Noah asking questions will be easier than a rambling, potentially teary-eyed exposition from me.
“How did you meet?”
“In college. Hannah—that’s her name—dated one of my roommates. She was always nice, but he was a jerk to her. I could never understand it.” Her gaze is fixed on my mouth as I share my history with Hannah, pausing when necessary.
“Hannah was beautiful. We got to know each other over the year before she kicked my roommate’s ass to the curb. I waited—painfully—that whole year for her to make that choice herself. When she ended it, I drove straight to her apartment with flowers and takeout.”
“Whoa!” Noah scowls. “You hooked up with your friend’s ex the same day she ended things?”
“Absolutely not. First of all, he wasnotmy friend—he was my roommate, and he was an asshole. Second, I didn’t sleep with Hannah the night she broke up with him. I dropped the flowers and food off on her doorstep with a note.”
“So how’d you guys end up together?”
“She called the next morningand thenwe hooked up.” I veil a smile and wait for Noah’s reaction. Her brows shoot up, and she glares at me.
“I’m kidding.” I nudge her arm playfully. “She called the next morning and thanked me for the gifts. But I didn’t hear from her again for two years.”
“Two years?” Noah clutches her chest in disbelief. Her performance throughout the retelling of my history with Hannah is award-nomination worthy—like she’s watching a movie where the man and woman just miss their chance to be together. “What happened for two years?”
“I was a sophomore with two years of school left at California State and she was a senior ready to graduate.”
“Annnnddd?”
“Andshe had a job lined up on the other side of the state.”
“You gave up?” She huffs at me.
“Noah—you’re killing this for me, you know it?”
She looks at me bashfully before urging me to continue.
“She didn’t want a long-distance relationship and we went our separate ways. Two years later, I graduated college and moved to San Diego. In the most amazing moment of kismet, I saw her in a bar one night on a date. She looked miserable, and I rescued her.”
“You? A knight in shining armor?”
“Excuse me? You doubt my ability to save a damsel in distress?”
“Hell yeah, I do. You won’t find any fuckin’ damsels around here.”
I chuckle. “Well, anyway, that’s the story of how I met Hannah.”
“It’s a great story. I’m sure you had a beautiful relationship.”
“The best.”
“How long were you married before . . .?”
“Married eight years, but together for ten. We were inseparable.”
