Everything was incomplete without Brady.

I tossed and turned all night without his concrete body beside me. The days were lonely without his bright smile. The tears of even the most inconsequential mistakes overflowed without his warm embrace and soft voice telling me its okay. Every day passed so slowly that a minute felt like an hour to me. I quit my job and moped around all day for months. I was so absolutely in love with him still, it was insane. Nothing could ever fill the gap that was left in my heart. Finally, I left myself go, I joined a new job and forgot Brady. I wouldn't let myself feel anything ever again. It was like a dark velvet cover had slipped over my heart and blocked me from any emotion.


I sit at the park a block from my house. My eyes move from couple to couple, a habit I've never been able to break. The only difference is that I don't see anymore. My mind doesn't comprehend what I'm seeing. It's been like this for four months. And everything's been better.

"Excuse me?" I heard a male voice asks but don't answer. I can't answer. "Excuse me miss? Are you alright?" He asks again. I blink twice and look up at him. He's looking at me with concerned eyes that make me want to cry. He looks kind of like Brady looked. Short chocolate brown eyes and blue eyes that twinkle if you look at them a certain way.

"Everything's fine." I say but my voice is scratchy and hoarse. I haven't spoken for three days. He sits down on the bench beside me and looks out at the park as well. My eyes never leave his face.

"You don't seem alright." He comments and I stare at him. His head turns to me and I still don't avert my eyes. "Want some one to talk to?"

"I don't know you."

"Greg Forrester." He introduces and then smiles a breathtaking smile. "And who do I owe the pleasure of meeting?"

"Yvonne Harmen." I say even though I'm not sure why.

"Ah, Yvonne." He says brightly. "What a beautiful name." I nod. "Now, Yvonne would you like to talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about." I say, blinking hard. Finally, my eyes move away and I stare blankly out at the scenery again.

"From what I can see, you, Yvonne, are going through a thing us doctors like to call depression."

"I'm completely fine." I say shortly but I can't help but be shocked that this gorgeous guy is a doctor. Why is he talking to me?

"Listen, Yvonne. I'm almost positive that something terrible has happened to you a long time ago and you still haven't let go and…"

"I've let go of Brady, this is how!" I shout unexpectedly, surprising myself.

"Ah, there we go. Brady died…?" He asks, leaving the question open. As if I'm going to answer.

"Listen, Greg. I don't need yours or anyone else's help." I stand and keep my eyes from him. "Thanks for… everything and…" Without finishing the sentence, I walked off, leaving Greg on that park bench.

I sit at home, crying. The memories of Greg swirl through my mind.

"No." I whisper fiercely to myself and pick my weeping body off the ground. Pulling my laptop onto my bed, I curl into a ball and turn it on. Once I've opened the search page I type in something that I would never have done except for on an emotional impulse. Like today. My fingers move over the keys and I press enter. A million pages come up with three words on it: Greg Forrester: Psychiatrist.


"I'll meet you at the bench." I say before clicking the phone closed. I was meeting him. Greg. It's been two months and he's been helping me deal with my loss. Everything's getting better. I feel now. Ever since that first night on the bench, when he somehow opened up everything inside me with one short conversation. I feel again and it feels absolutely amazing. In fact, I feel for Greg. He's more than a friend now. Perhaps I fall too easily. But Greg is different. He won't ever leave me.


"Yvonne, I was thinking we could catch a coffee?" Greg says slowly when I started to walk away from him after our session. I turn and smile brightly.

"Love to." And he escorts me to the nearest coffee shop. It's started to rain. We have a nice evening and don't leave for several hours. I feel so many emotions I hadn't felt for a long time. Love, warmth, but most of all, happiness. After we finish, he walks me to my car and just as I'm about to duck inside, he does something so incredible and irresponsible that I just about faint. His lips find mine and he kisses me softly and pulls away.

"I'm sorry." He whispers softly.

"No. No. That was…amazing."

"I shouldn't have…" He tries to explain as we stand there, getting soaked from the rain. I lean in and kiss him again. I put all my passion into it and I can't get enough. Greg pulls away though. "Yvonne, I can't have relationships with my patients."

"We're friends, Greg."

"You're still emotionally unstable." He tells me stubbornly. Tears start at my eyes and flow down my face unnoticed because of the rain.

"Fine." I whisper harshly.

"Yvonne, it just can't happen." He says softly, obviously sensing my anger at rejection. "I'm sorry." I slip into my car and he stays at my window. I roll it down and glare up at him.

"Just don't contact me. I'm done with my treatment.

"Yvonne, don't do this." He pleaded.

"It's already done." I say and roll up the window, driving away instantly. It was time to end everything.


Greg Forrester walked past the park bench. His eyes stopped on the sign nailed to it. He had it made in memory of someone who had come into his life and changed it completely with one short conversation. On one park bench changed his life. His heart scarred from the sudden loss. His mind wouldn't comprehend the words on that bench that he read over every day.

In memory of Yvonne Harmen. Loving friend and mentor. She taught me to love.