Page 29 of Tangled Up

We’re in the checkout area when the woman stops once more. “I’ve been so afraid these last few weeks.”

I pat her frail hand. “Don’t be. I bet he’s got another twenty years in him.”

My father would shake his head at such a comment. Where the hell do I get the audacity to promise an old man another twenty years? He’d call it arrogance, false assurances. I’d say it’s still my goal.

Unexpectedly, the woman envelopes me in a warm hug. It catches me off-guard, but I quickly collect myself and hug her back.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I clear the thickness in my throat. “Just doing my job.”

“It’s more than that.” She meets my eyes. “You really care about us. I want you to know I appreciate it so much.”

“It’s a new chapter for you both.”

I’d like to imagine when I’m in my eighties, I’m still as eager to be with my wife as I was this weekend when Carly appeared like a siren from the sea. God, she was so fucking beautiful. I’m counting the hours until Thursday, and I’m so fucking distracted, I should probably take the whole week off.

“The nurse will set up your next appointment. If anything changes, call the office or you have my email address.”

Pausing in the doorway as they leave, I watch the lady take her husband’s arm. He’s not much taller than she is as they shuffle down the hall together. If you looked at them from a distance, you’d think they were twins.

I don’t know how long they’ve been together, but they’re committed to seeing each other to the end. It’s my job to help them do it.

* * *

“I’m glad to see you followed at least one of my orders.” Larsen arches an eyebrow at me over the top of her coffee mug. “How was it?”

I drop into a chair across from her in the physician’s lounge. “The old man is fine, no residual symptoms. Not exactly the cathartic experience I’d hoped for.”

“That wasn't the order I meant. Dr. Munroe got laid.”

I huff a laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m a psychiatrist, Beck. I’m a master of reading body language. When you left here, you were wound up tight as a drum.”

Nodding, I study the beige Formica tabletop. “She was there.”

“She…” It only takes a moment for Lars to know who I mean. “The first love? The one who married the lawyer?”

“He was a political activist.” Heat burns in my stomach. “Although I think he was in law school.”

“The one who died.”

“Six months after…” We’re both quiet, and I know what she’s thinking. “It never came up.”

Her brows rise. “It didn’t?”

“I didn’t expect to see her there. I wasn’t ready for that conversation.”

“You went to Eden to confront the past. It sounds like the universe was ready to grant your request.”

I know she’s right. I had the same damn thought myself, but I’m not about to say I was afraid.

Carly took my breath away when I saw her again. I only wanted to kiss her, to hold her. I couldn’t take the chance of not having her because I drug up all our baggage.

Baggage.

“When I saw her, all I could think wasmine. She belongs with me.” I glance up at my friend. “Is there a statute of limitations on forgiveness?”