Page 6

The Bridge

It was the day I’d been waiting for, and yet it didn’t feel real. The idea that I was going to lay eyes on Kyle for the first time in twelve months hadn’t fully hit me yet. I sat at the outdoor café around the corner from the park, unable to touch the chicken salad sandwich I’d ordered for dinner and instead had requested a cappuccino. The heat radiating from the white ceramic mug in my hands helped anchor me in the moment. I smiled at the couple at the table adjacent to mine, enjoying how in love they seemed and wondering if that just might be me someday. I could admit to feeling rattled after what I’d learned two days ago, and I very much needed today. I needed to see Kyle and I needed to anchor myself in the here and now. Focus on the future like a lifeline and press pause on the past. Today was a bright spot.

I checked my watch.

Ten minutes.

Butterflies swarmed, but my smile could not be dimmed. I signed the credit card slip and stood. I’d selected a green and white dress and added a cropped denim jacket because the combination felt very much me. With my heart pounding rapid fire in my chest, I took the short walk to the park, hyperaware of every human, pet, insect, and breeze that came my way. I just needed to relax and remember how at home I felt around Kyle.

The park was everything I’d remembered and more. Even the ice cream truck was tucked in its same spot. I took a minute just to soak it all in. Finally, I found my way to the suspension bridge with two to three minutes to spare. A quick scan up and down told me Kyle wasn’t on the bridge yet. I was first and that was okay. It would give me a moment to catch my breath, smooth my dress, and run my fingers through my likely windblown hair that I’d had trimmed the day before. I found a spot midway from one side to the other, as close to where I remembered us standing together as I could manage. Not sure which direction she might come from, though, every few moments, I scanned both, looking extra closely anytime a brunette appeared in the distance. We’d agreed on eight p.m. because the sun would be going down. Watching the brilliant colors on display now, it had been a good call. Wow. I took a breath as I saw a woman about her height walk toward the bridge from between the trees. She paused. Hugged someone. Oh, God. Here we go . Deep breath. Then the woman turned and went back the other way. Not Kyle.

Ten more minutes passed. Twenty. I didn’t understand. Maybe she’d been called into the hospital. She’d made it clear that that kind of thing happened all the time. Thirty minutes. I walked to the end of the bridge and back again, still searching the faces of everyone I passed. An hour. I pulled the jacket tighter around me as a sense of dread began to settle. Ninety minutes. She hadn’t been called into the hospital. Somehow, I knew that much. I stayed on that bridge anyway, quietly trying to understand. My feet were hurting because the shoes were new. I wasn’t sure why I stayed, except I needed to see this thing through, to bear witness and understand without any doubt that Kyle stood me up and left me there alone.

Dusk eased gradually into night. The stunning lights illuminated the bridge’s suspension wires in such a striking manner that a painful lump formed in my throat at the stark contrast of the beauty in front of me and the sadness within. I was supposed to be swimming in happiness tonight, anticipating all that was to come. I didn’t want to take any of this personally, but honestly, it was the most personal thing ever, being stood up, especially for something as big as this was. I flashed on myself singing happily in the car on the way here, searching down the hall for my hotel room. The stupid café in which I practically vibrated with excitement. I laughed quietly, shook my head, and stared down at my fingers as they grasped the railing. My legs ached. I needed to get the hell off this bridge.

“Did you have a nice evening?” the doorman asked as I approached the entrance to the hotel.

“Not really,” I said flatly. “But I hope you did.”

I stayed that night, checked out the next morning, and drove straight home.

My parents had lied to me. I had no idea who my biological father was. And I’d just wasted a year of my life on a woman who didn’t even have the decency to tell me it was over in person. I felt betrayed on so many levels that I didn’t quite know how to move through the world as myself. The one-two punch had done a number on me, and when I looked in the mirror I saw someone looking back at me who was apparently very easy to let down.