“Even though she stayed close to home for college, we made it work,” I explain. “But when it was time for med school, she chose to go to Northwestern despite her father’s wish that she go somewhere near here. But even he couldn’t deny the prestige and bragging rights being accepted to Northwestern for med school would give him. So she moved to Chicago. A year later, I asked herto marry me. The rest, I suppose, is history,” I finish with a sad smile.
“That’s really sweet.”
“It wasn’t always easy. Two med students. Insane hours. Constant stress. But that didn’t matter to us. We just wanted to be together.”
“That’s life, though, isn’t it? Finding that one person you’re willing to fight to be with, no matter the obstacles?”
“I guess it is.” I shift my gaze forward for a beat before clearing my throat and returning my attention to her. “What about you? Any boyfriend I should expect to come visit?”
I take a slow sip of my scotch, my jaw ticking at the thought of someone else touching her the way I’ll never be able to.
“Before I left, I was sort of seeing someone.”
“Was it serious?”
She pushes out a nervous laugh. “You could say that.”
“What happened?”
She hesitates, chewing on her lower lip. Which only draws my attention to them. Makes me wonder how they taste.
“We were engaged before my little health scare. I’m fine now,” she adds quickly, like she did the last time she brought it up. “But when you go through something like that, you start re-evaluating things. I remember lying in that hospital bed, full of regrets. So I decided to Marie Kondo my life.”
“Marie Kondo your life?”
She shrugs. “I got rid of anything that didn’t spark joy.”
“And this fiancé of yours?” I press tentatively. “Did he spark joy?”
I say a silent prayer that the answer is no. It’s a ridiculous notion, but a part of me wants to be the one who does that for her.
“More like our priorities were no longer aligned.” She swallows hard, and I sense there’s more to her statement. “So we broke off our engagement.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“At first, it was. But now I’m grateful he showed his true colors. Life’s too short for mediocrity. I mean, think about it.” She turns fully toward me, her eyes bright. “The average life expectancy for women in this country is about eighty-one years. That’s just under thirty thousand days. Sounds like a lot, right?”
“I suppose.”
“But once you factor in how much of that is spent working and going to school, you only get a few thousand days to make it count.”
There’s a flicker of something in her expression. Something that looks like sadness. But it vanishes just as quickly.
“So many people stay miserable because they think there’s no other option,” she continues. “They stay with their spouse. They continue going to that boring job. They keep driving the reliable sedan. Not me. Not anymore.”
I’m completely mesmerized by her. The way hereyes light up. The way her hands move when she’s passionate. I can physically feel her thirst for life.
But our circumstances are vastly different.
She has her entire life ahead of her. No responsibilities holding her back.
Not like me.
“You’re young. You can just pick up and try something new. Not everyone has that luxury.”
“I don’t agree. Is it harder when people rely on you? Sure. But that doesn’t mean you should stay unhappy.” She folds her legs underneath her body, leaning closer, her attention fully devoted to me. “What about you? What sparks joy for you?”
“Sparks joy?”
