Page 104 of Maybe in Another Life

She turns back to me.

“I’m a stalker.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not Henry’s fault,” I tell her. “That we got too close, I mean. He was nothing but professional, and I basically stalked him. He kept making it clear that we had a professional relationship and nothing more. And I kept pressing the issue, trying to get him to change his mind. It’s me. He’s not... I’d hate for him to be considered unprofessional because of the way I behaved. It was me.”

She nods and leaves. I’m not entirely sure if she believes me, but my actions today sort of support the claim that I’m at least a little delusional. So I have that going for me.

I turn to Gabby. “He wasn’t there, and I caused a scene.”

“No big speech?”

I shake my head. “There was a chase, though.”

“Well, I guess that’s enough drama for one day. Dr. Winters came while you were gone. She says we’re good to go.”

“So we’re leaving?” I ask her.

“Yep.”

“What do I do about Henry?” I ask her. “I can’t leave knowing I’ll never see him again.”

“I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe you’ll run into him sometime? Here at the hospital, during a physical therapy appointment?”

“Maybe,” I say.

“If it’s meant to be, you’ll find each other,” she says. “Right?”

“Yeah,” I tell her. “I don’t know. I guess.”

Instinctually, from muscle memory, I put my hands on the armrests of the wheelchair, as if I think I’m going to stand up. And then I remember who I am. And what is going on.

Deanna comes in. “You ready to go?” she says.

“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her.

Gabby has my things. Deanna pushes me to the elevator. She stays with us as we start to move down. I wonder if Deanna is doing this because it’s protocol or because I’m a flight risk. The elevator opens for a minute on four, as an older woman gets in. I can see Nurse Hannah standing at the nurses’ station talking to a patient. She looks at me and then looks away. I swear I see a smile crack on her face, but I see what I want to see sometimes.

When we get to the lobby, Deanna tells me that the wheelchair is mine to keep. For a moment, I think,Cool, free wheelchair, and then I remember that I am a person other people give wheelchairs to.Shake it off.

“Thanks, Deanna,” I say as we exit onto the street. She waves and heads back in.

Mark pulls up with the car. He gets out and runs toward me. I realize it’s the first time I’ve seen him since the accident. And that’s sort of weird, isn’t it? Shouldn’t he have visited me? I would have visited him.

Gabby and Mark put my stuff into the car, and I wheel myself to the door. I try to open it myself, but it’s harder than I think. I wait patiently for one of them to come around to the side, and as I do, I look up at the building.

I may never see Henry again.

Gabby opens my door and helps me into the backseat. Mark puts my wheelchair into the trunk. We drive away.

If I’m meant to find him, I’ll find him. I guess I do believe that.

But sometimes I wishIgot to decide what I was meant to do.

Gabby left early this morning to go spend the day with her parents. Mark is coming later to pick up the rest of his things, and she doesn’t want to be here.

Mark has only come by one other time since he left, to grab a few suits and some odds and ends. Neither Gabby nor I was here, and it was a bit creepy, to be honest, coming home to see the house picked through. Gabby changed the locks after that. So now Mark needs one of us to be here while he moves his stuff out. It seems quite obvious that I am the woman for the job.

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