Page 122 of Letting Go at 40

Is this just sex?

How could he ask me such a thing? He means so much more to me. How can he not see it, feel it? He’s all I think about and all I want near me.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates in my hand, startling me so much I juggle the device before righting it and answering.

“Hello?” My voice cracks.

“Anna?” My sister giggles. “Am I interrupting something?” Her voice drops, salacious and scandalized.

“No. I . . .” The lump in my throat makes it hard to speak.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia’s instant concern has the tears leaking faster. I fumble with the front door of the house and slam it shut without a glance behind me. Racing to the stairs, I take them two at a time.

“I think Mason just broke up with me.” My cry is jagged, like my heart has just been cut out of my chest.

“Oh, honey.”

I enter my bedroom and shut the door, locking myself inside in a familiar position. Hiding my heartbreak. With my back to the door, I slide down the barrier and sit on the floor, head tipped back.

Quickly, I relay how we’d just had sex, and then he was questioning our relationship.

“He said he wanted us to move in together. I thought he was joking.” But did I really think that? Would it be a joke to Mason? He’d know it wasn’t a joke to me. However, he also knows I’m not really the living-together type. I’d want a more binding commitment, something Mason wouldn’t ever want.

Hell, he hasn’t even said he loves me.

“Does he want you to move into a new house with him?” Amelia is quiet for a moment. “It would make sense. The cottage holds a lot of memories.”

This house does hold memories, but it contains more than the history of Ben and me. My parents lived here. I’ve moved my children here. And here is where Mason and I finally connected with one another.

“I don’t even know. But he found a house. He’s moving out.” I sob. “I thought everything was okay with us. What am I missing?” While I’d been married to one man for nearly two decades, it didn’t mean I was an expert in relationships. I knew Ben. I don’t know what Mason is thinking.

“What exactly did he say?”

I tell her about questioning us, our future and then asking me if this was only sex.

“Mason does not believe what you are doing is only sex,” Amelia interrupts me, voice firm with conviction.

“How can you know?”

“He loves you.” She exhales, confident in her opinion.

“He mentioned Ben.”

She gasps. “He didn’t.”

“He told me about Ben’s letter.” I pause. “The one he wrote Mason before he died.”

“What did it say?” The curiosity in Amelia’s tone would be almost comical if this were a funny situation, which it’s not.

“Let go. Two small words.”

Amelia is quiet a long time while I silently cry into the phone.

“How did Mason use them?” she eventually asks. “How did Mason use Ben’s words with you?”

“He said this was him letting go. He wants forever with me.”

Amelia sighs. “Anna. Honey. That’s your answer. Mason loves you.” She softly chuckles. “He just told you he did.”