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I’d spent 12 years running from life.
***
That night, lying in bed beside Walter, I couldn’t sleep.
I kept thinking about the note.
What if he wasn’t who I thought he was? What if this whole thing had been a lie?
I’d just started to be happy again. I’d just started to feel alive.
What if I were about to lose it all?
The next day, I lied to Walter.
“I’m going to the library. Just need to return some books.”
What if he wasn’t who I thought he was?
He smiled and kissed my forehead. “Don’t be gone too long. I’ll miss you.”
“I won’t.”
I got in my car and sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel. Part of me wanted to tear up the note and forget about it. But I couldn’t. I’d made a choice to face life head-on. That meant facing the truth, whatever it was.
I drove to the address on the note.
I’d made a choice to face life head-on.
What was I going to find?
Some terrible truth that would destroy everything?
At my age, love felt borrowed. Like it could be taken away at any moment.
I had just learned how to be happy again. I didn’t know if I could survive another goodbye.
But I had to know.
***
When I pulled up to the address, I froze.
It was a building I recognized.
At my age, love felt borrowed.
My old school. The one where Walter and I had met all those years ago. Except it wasn’t a school anymore. It had been turned into a restaurant. A beautiful one with big windows and string lights.
I sat in my car, confused.
Why would she send me here?
I got out slowly and walked to the entrance. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. For a moment, I stood alone in front of the door. Taking a breath. Preparing myself.
Then I pushed it open.
I got out slowly and walked to the entrance.
The moment I did, confetti rained down on me.
Streamers popped. Balloons floated everywhere. Music filled the air. Not just any music. Jazz. The kind I used to love when I was a teenager. Everyone was clapping.
My daughter was there.
My son. Friends I hadn’t seen in years.
The crowd parted.
And there was Walter. His arms spread wide open. A huge smile on his face.
Confetti rained down on me.
“Walter? What is this?”
He walked toward me, tears in his eyes. “Do you remember the night I had to leave town? The night my father got transferred?”
“Of course I do. You were supposed to take me to prom.”
“But I never got the chance.”
“No. You left two days before.”
He took my hands. “I’ve regretted that for 54 years, Debbie. When you told me last year that you’d never gone to prom, that you’d always regretted it, I knew what I had to do.”