Page 25 of If You Stayed

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When Monday came, I decided to skip my morning muffin and head straight into the office. I wasn’t ready to face having a seemingly innocent run-in with Gabriel. Even though such a big part of me craved crashing into him again. Instead, I needed input on my current situation from those whose opinions I’d valued the most.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be for me to reengage with a person from my past who happened to be my best friend and first love? Who has no recollection of me at all because he lost his memory?” I blurted out to Joseph as he stood in the office relaxation room, brewing a cup of coffee.

He turned to face me and arched an eyebrow. “Happy Monday to you, too.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Happy Monday. How was your trip? I hope it was amazing and just out of curiosity…” I walked over to the countertop where the coffee machine was, hopped on top of it, and kicked my feet back and forth. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be for me to reengage with a person from my past who completely lost his memory of me, even though he was the biggest part of my life until I wasalmost twenty years old? And then he randomly showed up to my husband’s dinner party as the architect building our new house? And he felt like we knew each other, but he didn’tremember, even though a big part of me wishes he remembered, but I don’t want him to remembereverythingbecause everything wasn’tgood, but it also wasn’t allbad.”

Joseph snickered, added too much sweetener to his coffee, and lifted his mug. “This sounds like a telenovela. Have you been watchingJane the Virginagain?”

“I wish this were a show. A show wouldn’t leave my stomach in knots.”

He arched an eyebrow. “This really happened?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Wow,” he breathed out. “I feel as if you’ve been spiraling over this for a while now.”

“A little over fiftysome hours.”

“And where are you landing on your decision to engage?”

I bit my bottom lip. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking the older, wiser man in the coffee room.”

Joseph laughed. “Age has nothing to do with wisdom.”

“Yes, but you seem to be full of both.”

He narrowed his eyes, glanced at his watch, and then said, “I have thirty minutes before my first client. What happened?”

I told him the story. The whole story about Gabriel and me and our past together. I told him about the good days and the worst nights. He listened to me intently, not breaking his stare. His attention to every word always made me feel safe aroundhim. I was certain that was how all his clients felt, too.

“I see.” He brushed his palm against his chin. “Now I ask you, are you looking for a friendship response or a therapist response?”

“Friendship,” I said. “I know what you charge per hour, and you’re out of my budget,” I half-joked.

“Well, as a friend, I say this… My advice doesn’t matter.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What? Why not?”

“Because it’s not my life, and I haven’t lived through the string of struggles and joys attached to your situation. Therefore, my input would be from a place that lacks the emotional depth and understanding that your heart needs to make this decision. You could ask a million people what their advice would be, and their words wouldn’t matter because it’s your situation, not theirs.”

I sighed. “Thatistherapist advice. Good advice, but therapist.”

He shrugged. “My friendship and therapist advice intertwine at times.”

I scrunched my nose and grumbled before slapping my hand against my face. “Okay, but if you were just to humor me with your thoughts on what you would do in the fictional world where you were walking in my shoes?”

“First, I have a few questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you miss your friendship with him?”

“It was ages ago.”

“Time doesn’t determine whether a friendship can bemissed.”

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