Page 9 of The Soul Never Forgets

I was eighteen when I located the woman who saved me from death in that dumpster. We met for café au lait and beignets. I never told my mother about meeting the woman who saved me because she would have forbidden it. There’s not a doubt in my mind.

“Tell me about your current living situation.”

“I live alone in Metairie.” But hopefully not for long.

“Lives alone,” he murmurs as he scribbles. “In a historical home?”

“Yes. Although it’s barely old enough to be considered historical. I restored it myself.”

“Of course you did. No husband or wife?”

“I’ve never married.” At least not in this lifetime. “I haven’t found the right man yet.”

One side of his mouth tugs upward. “How long have you lived alone?”

“About five years.”

“Are you romantically or sexually involved with anyone?”

I’ve experienced the indescribable love shared between soul mates. I could never engage in casual dating or blasé sex after that. It would be an unfulfilling disappointment.

“There hasn’t been anyone in my life for some time.” I’ve probably turned into a virgin again.

“Would you like there to be someone in your life?” Dr. Wes breaks eye contact and looks down at the notepad, staring at the page but writing nothing. “What I mean to say is are you interested in pursuing a romantic or sexual relationship with someone?”

He’s asking so I’m going to give him the most honest answer I can. “I want that very much but only with the man who is intended for me.”

He looks up and our eyes connect. “What do you mean when you say the man who is intended for you?”

He knows. He just wants to hear me confirm it.

“I’m talking about my soul mate. The one who makes my world stop turning when we touch. The one whose soul shares silent conversations with mine. The one who makes an intense déjà vu pulsate in my veins when I look into his eyes. That’s what he’ll do to me when we meet.”

His stare is intense. Soul-piercing. “I’m wondering… does the same thing happen to him when he looks into your eyes?”

“Maybe. If not, it’s something similar I would hope.”

His pen slips from his fingers and falls to the floor. “To him, it’ll feel like the two of you have known each other since the beginning of time. I think that when he looks at you, his heart will beat differently. Because in your hazel eyes, he’ll discover the other half of his soul, which has been bound together with yours forever. It’ll be impossible for you to be torn apart by space or time or death.”

“What beautiful words.” And they could only come from someone who understands what it is to have met his soul mate. An ordinary person doesn’t comprehend these emotions.

The timer goes off, alerting us to the end of our first session. And the magical spell is broken.

We both fidget in our seats. “That was a quick session. It feels like we just started talking.”

“I feel the same. We didn’t get nearly as far as I hoped we would,” he says.

“To be continued until next time I guess.”

He picks up his pen and scribbles on the notepad. “I want to pick up at this same spot in our next session.”

How long until our next session? I can’t

go long without seeing him again. My soul cries out for his.

We stand, moving like mirror images of one another, and our hands reach out at the same time. Our skin touches and that intense déjà vu pulsates in my veins as I look into his eyes.

I’m not mistaken. This is happening. He’s the man I’ve been searching for. The one.

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