I start pacing with renewed vigor. Back and forth I go, my heels clacking on the tile, my hands shaking, my armpits damp. “Let’s just say he affects me.”
“Go on.”
“He…we…I keep running into him everywhere. Everywhere. And, uh, there are a lot of things about him…many, many things…that sort of…remind me…” I suck in a breath and blurt it out. “Of Cass.”
“That’s normal.”
Dr. Singer sounds completely blasé. Meanwhile, I’m about to collapse onto the hideous brown tile and never get up. “Normal?” I shout. “It’s normal that a stranger reminds me of my dead husband?”
“Do you recall our talks about what might happen when you started dating?”
“I recall I told you I’d rather be fed limb by limb to a pack of wolves than start dating.”
Dr. Singer is unfazed by my snappy tone. “Indeed. And for fi
