And did you tell your therapist about me?
“Brendon recognized me. He must be a patient at the same office. He was leaving when I arrived. He said hi. Of course, I had to apologize for not knowing him and give my quick spiel about my accident.”
Brendon was in therapy. I cringed a little, wondering if I was the reason? Gosh … I hoped not.
“How is he?”
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I mean … I haven’t seen him in years. We used to go to the same church, not too far from here.”
“So you were church friends?”
I nodded, completely gambling on the hope that in such a short encounter, Brendon didn’t back up the dump truck and unload onto Fisher.
“Just church friends?” He knew something.
“Brendon was the one who convinced me to go to Thailand. He’s actually the friend who went with me.”
“He’s the one, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I just said he’s the one who went with me to—”
“No.” Fisher shook his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about. He’s the one you loved. The one we talked about. You said he’s with someone else, but not married. I told you to go knock on his door.”
It was such a game. Playing one card at a time, neither one of us knew what was in the other one’s hand. I so badly wanted to lay down my hand and show him every card.
It’s you, Fisher! Everything is you.
My heartstrings were so tangled in Fisher, I could barely breathe. Every move seemed to create a new knot. When we got too close. When we were too far apart.
“Why do you think it’s him?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s not him.”
“Fuck …” He rubbed his temples with his thumb and middle finger. “I didn’t see that answer coming.”
“Why?” A twinge of frustration gripped my words, making them tight and clipped.
He chuckled. “Well, because he casually mentioned having not seen you since you agreed to marry him and broke off the engagement all within twenty-four hours.”
Well fuck. （Mandatory use of the F-word）
“I told him you were back in Denver. He said to tell you hi. So …” Another chuckle. “You were going to marry Brendon for two seconds, and he’s not the guy you were talking about? This other guy must be quite something if he’s the one you think about when you think of being in love instead of the guy you said yes to marrying.”
On a slow deflate, I whispered, “He is.”
“Is he the reason you broke up with Brendon?”
My eyes narrowed at the floor while I thought about my answer. The truth. “No. I … I only said yes to Brendon because he asked me in front of a group of people, and I didn’t want to embarrass him. The reason I didn’t marry him was because I still hadn’t done anything for myself. And I wasn’t ready for Wife and Mother to be my new titles and full-time profession, which was funny because I had been watching all these babies come into the world. And I was longing for a husband like the men holding their wives’ hands. The love. The family. I wanted it, just not yet. And I didn’t want it with Brendon. And that truly sucked because he was … I’m sure still is an amazing, kind, smart, and loving man. Just not the one for me.”
“What if I can’t live up to him? Will I be the next Brendon?”
Oh my lost fisherman …