On the third try, I was finally able to talk with Cassie. We talked for about an hour. She told me how sorry she was she had to leave, but she didn’t know where I was or how to get in touch with me. I said it was my fault for not trusting her and asked when she was coming back. Her father needed long-term care, and right now, there was no timetable for when he would improve enough to be on his own.
I asked if I could come down there to see her and try to rekindle what we had. “I don’t think that would be a good idea right now,” Cassie intoned.
“Why not?” I asked, almost seeing another man standing next to her.
“Well, actually,” she said, “I’m seeing someone now. He’s the physical thera—”
Looking down at the receiver, I’d just hung up. I decided that “real love” would never be for me.
