8. Chapter 8
Cate
Present
John had made everything feel effortless.
That was the problem.
Amy squeezed my hand. “Where are you right now, Cate?”
I blinked, the diner snapping back into focus - the hum of conversation, the scrape of silverware, the clink of coffee cups. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a day away from marrying Trevor,” she said gently. “But you’re talking about John like you’re still… there.”
My throat tightened.
Outside the window, someone laughed as they passed by. Life, apparently, was continuing without my permission.
“Do you think he’d be upset?” I asked quietly.
“Upset?” Amy frowned. “No. God, no. I think he’d want you to be happy.”
Happy.
Like that wasn’t the most complicated word in the English language.
We paid the check and stepped out into the afternoon air. It was cooler than I expected, the sky low and gray, the street smelling faintly of exhaust and damp pavement, like it had rained while we were inside. Amy waited, watching me the way she always did - like she knew better than to rush me.
“I need to walk,” I said.
She nodded. “I’ll walk with you.”
We went slowly, our shoes crunching over gravel, past storefronts I’d seen a hundred times. I tried to picture my life the way it was supposed to look tomorrow. Dress altered and waiting, ring polished, vows memorized.
“I am happy,” I said finally. “Trevor is good to me. He’s steady. He shows up.”
Amy didn’t interrupt.
“But with John…” My voice faltered. “I didn’t have to convince myself of anything. I didn’t have to wonder if I was asking for too much.”
She glanced at me. “You don’t talk about Trevor the way you talk about him.”
“I learned how to live without John,” I said. “I learned how to not miss him every day. How to make peace with his absence.”
Amy stopped walking.
“But?” she prompted.
“But sometimes,” I admitted, staring at the sidewalk, “I wonder if peace is just what we call it when we’re tired of fighting the ache.”
Amy didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was quiet. “You didn’t lose him, Cate. You lost the life you thought you were going to have.”
Something in my chest cracked open.
I wrapped my arms around myself as a chill crept in. Tomorrow was coming whether I was ready or not. The absence of John wasn’t loud - it was steady. Constant.
And suddenly, terrifyingly clear.