Page 33 of The Last Session

That night, from the comfort of my couch, I pulled up a photo of the phone number “Dr. Clint” had pressed into my hand. True, I didn’t have a signed HIPAA form, but maybe he’d be willing to share something about Catherine. Maybe he could confirm some of these new inklings, so that I could finally put this all to bed.

But when I dialed, the first ring switched to an electronic voice: “This phone number is no longer in service.”

I hung up, feeling disturbed. Why would his number no longer be in service? Who was he? Could he be a part of whatever Catherine had gotten involved in five years ago?

I took a sip of wine, setting down my phone. This was a sign. Diane was right. I needed to move on from Catherine, from all this. After all, there was nothing else I could do.

But when I woke the next morning, ears filled with the soft trills of pigeons on the fire escape, I understood the secret message that Catherine had left for me.

17

“Amani, hey.” I approached her in the break room, where she was scrolling on her phone. “I was looking for you this morning.”

“Doctor’s appointment.” She set down her soda, engagement ring glittering in the fluorescent lights. “What’s up?”

“This is going to sound a little weird.” Better to give her fair warning. “But I think Catherine left something for me on your phone.”

Amani cocked her head. “Huh?”

“Yeah.” I knew how it sounded, so I tried to explain the note as calmly as possible.

“Okaaay.” She drew out the word. “Well, let’s see if we can find anything. Where should we look?”

“Maybe the notes app?” That seemed like the most obvious place. I peered over her shoulder as she glanced through the notes. “Maybe that one?” I pointed.

“Nope. This is all me.”

“Hmm. Maybe she took a picture of something?” I mused.

“Here’s the thing.” Amani tapped one white-painted nail against the screen. “I was sitting next to her the entire time. I would’ve noticed if she wrote anything, or took a picture of anything.”

“Yeah.” A pull of disappointment in my belly. “So all she did…”

“Was listen to podcasts.”

“Which one?”

“Which podcast?”

“Yeah.” A new hope emerged. “What was she listening to?”

Amani opened the podcasts app, which showed a row of recent listens.

“Okay, this one.” She clicked on a square. The podcast picture showed a tall blond man and a shorter dark-haired woman smiling warmly into the camera. The background was bright turquoise, the title splashed in bold capital letters:THIS IS WHY YOU’RE SINGLE: A PODCAST ABOUT DATING AND RELATIONSHIPS.

Amani clicked and a quick-voiced ad filled the room. She fast-forwarded and stopped.

“I swear to god!” a male voice cried.

“That’s ridiculous,” the woman responded, her voice low and sardonic. She had an accent I couldn’t immediately place. “Listeners, I apologize on behalf of my partner. He knows not what he does.”

I pulled the podcast up on my own phone. “That’s the most recent episode?” I asked.

“Yup.”

I scanned the episode notes.Episode 102: Ghost Lover: Why We Date Who We Date. Moon and Sol take a deeper dive into the term “ghost lover.” Integrating research and philosophy, they explain how our intrinsic longing to merge with another causes us to project our needs and desires. Moon and Sol explain how to find our own ghost lovers so we can banish them and see others as they truly are.

Below this, linked text said:Learn more about our offerings at the Center for Relational Healing.I clicked and a new website popped up, showing a group of people smiling and laughing in front of a mosaic-covered wall. I scanned their faces, half expecting to see Catherine. Nope.

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