Page 40 of Dear Rosie

My eyes drop to my hand, still half raised in the air.

But it was.

Thatwasher.

I know it was.

I remember…

I swallow against the growing tightness in my throat.

I remember her.

I remember her now.

But… I’d forgotten.

I lift my hand higher.

I’d forgotten about Rosie.

How could I have forgotten about Rosie?

My heart thumps inside my chest.

I remember now.

And she remembers me too.

My heart thuds loudly behind my ribs.

I know she knows.

Even if she hadn’trecognized me when she first saw me, I introduced myself…

She did too.

But she called herself Rosalyn.

I called myself Nate.

But I can feel it. That knowledge. That awareness.

I can see it now.

She knew it was me all night.

And she didn’t say anything.

My Rosie didn’t say anything. And when I figured it out, she ran.

And I don’t understand why.

We were friends.

It’s been… twenty-five years, but we’d been friends.

I think about the last time I saw her.

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