Page 45 of If My Wishes Came True
“And he looked good, Esther. A bit thinner maybe, but he didn’t look sick. I was so relieved, I threw my arms around him and kissed him the moment he walked through my door. And the way his eyes lit up…I knew that he still loved me.”
I take a breath before I go on.
“He asked me if we could pretend we never broke up. Just for a weekend. He wanted to go back to how things were before. I said I’d been thinking the same. And I told him I loved him—because it was true. That’s why I let him go. I wanted all of his dreams to come true, and I knew his biggest dream was to become a father.
“But we didn’t talk about any of that. We held hands and kissed. We slow danced to our song in my kitchen. And that night, when I took him to my room, we…”
I wipe my eyes. “We made love. We were kissing in bed, and our clothes came off slowly, one piece at a time, and it just happened. It felt so natural…so right. And I knew how meaningful it was for him. It was special for me, too. I’d had sex once before, with Dex, but this was different. Hunter and I loved each other. And, Esther?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I’ve never felt loved like that since. It’s been eight years.”
Esther nods, frowning. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
“After that weekend, I asked him to stay with me. I told him I wanted to take care of him. And I meant it. But he said he couldn’t do that to me. He wanted me to focus on school. He’d had a lot of time to think after I gave back the ring, and he felt awful for not taking my career plans more seriously. Before he left, I begged him to reconsider…but he said he loved me too much.”
“That’s why he had to let you go,” Esther says. “I imagine his illness put a lot in perspective for him.”
I nod, biting my lip. “I tried keeping in touch. But after a while, he wouldn’t return my calls. Or he’d send short text messages saying he was fine. And then, four months later, his mom called…and told me he’d died. I’ve been a mess ever since.”
Esther leans forward in her chair. “You said earlier that you’d ruined Hunter’s life, but, honey—I don’t see it that way at all.”
“When I look back on our relationship, I don’t think about the beautiful weekend we spent together before he passed away.I remember the look in his eyes when I gave back the ring. I remember him saying that I wasted four years of his life. Those were thelastfour years of his life, Esther,” I say with a sob.
“They weren’t a waste, dear. He loved you. He came back to you. He wanted to be withyoubefore he died.”
“I loved him, too. So much. And if I hadn’t broken up with him when I did, we would have been together that summer. And maybe I would have noticed something was wrong. Maybe I would have sent him to the doctor sooner, and he could have started treatment earlier, and?—”
“Oh, Jenna,” Esther sighs. I look up, and her eyes are teary, too. “Honey…it’s not your fault that Hunter died.”
I’m crying so hard that she comes back to sit near me on the couch. This is the first time I’ve ever admitted to anyone how guilty I’ve felt all these years. And it’s the first time anyone’s said the words I’ve been desperate to hear.
It’s not your fault.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck there,” I tell her. “I’m thirty now, but a part of me is still twenty-two years old, and grieving the love of my life.”
“That’s a common response to unprocessed trauma,” she says, resting her hand on mine. “But we’re processing it now, together. And you will get through this.”
Just hearing her say that feels like the weight of the world lifts from my shoulders. My head aches from crying, and every muscle in my body is exhausted, but I’m grateful.
“Thanks, Esther. Can I come back again soon?” I sniffle. “Like, tomorrow, maybe?”
She smiles. “Absolutely.”
I text Vanessa to let her know I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes. And when the elevator door opens, she’s standing in the lobby, waiting for me.
As soon as she sees my tear-streaked face, she pulls me into a hug.
Over the next two weeks, I see Esther four times. I still have a long road ahead of me, and a lot more to work on with her (my self-esteem and career woes topping the list), but as far as my relationship with Hunter, for the first time in nearly a decade, I don’t feel wracked with guilt.
My perspective started to change when Esther asked me to imagine what would’ve happened if Hunter had lived. He would’ve gone on to meet the mother of his children. He would have become a dad. And I would have peace of mind, knowing that breaking up with him was the right decision. His death robbed us both of seeing his life unfold the way it was meant to.
Rather than defining our relationship by Hunter’s death at the expense of everything else we shared, Esther encourages me to reframe our story: We were madly in love. But ultimately, we weren’t right for each other, because we wanted different things. So we let each other go. It’s still a sad ending, even if he’d lived. But it’s also a beautiful tale of love and sacrifice.
Eventually, I start talking to Esther about Charlie. Even though I’m in a better place, emotionally, than I was two weeks ago, I know my trust issues with men aren’t going to disappear overnight. And I don’t want to bring that baggage into my new romance.
“Do you think I’m ready to be in a relationship?” I ask Esther, anxious to hear her opinion. “I know Charlie said he’d wait for me—and it’s only been two weeks—but I miss him like crazy, and I’m dying to see him.”
