“We could go hiking.

There’s a trail I think you’d love.”

For years the person I had pictured beside me on every future trip had been Roger.

Suddenly I could see other possibilities: Elise carrying a picnic, Trevor pointing toward the mountains, Patty complaining good-naturedly about the weather, or simply me, alone in a museum, spending as much time as I wanted in front of one painting.

I was startled by the relief that came with having choices.