You were looking at my boobs even then.”“Aria, I’ve seen way bigger boobs than yours,” I laughed. “I’m sorry I looked that first day but I...’m a guy ... We do that. But you have nothing to worry about with me. I’m just not interested in you.”She stewed as we finished eating. And on the drive back to the hospital she sat next to me and fidgeted.When we got back to thr hospital’s waiting room, she asked,”So if you’re not gay, why aren’t you interested in me?”I looked at my watch and estimated the. Maybe, part of me hopes that she is out there somewhere and reads this story, which is why perhaps I do not want to change her name. Maybe, part of me hopes that she contacts me, again. Yet, even if I did change her name, she would recognize herself in the story by the location and the other detail elements that I mention. Moreover, I know she is out there living in Rhode Island somewhere still, married or divorced. I do not know. Susan left such an impression on me for so long that if she was. I couldn't; I couldn't warn anyone, I couldn't change history by that magnitude. Who would have believed me anyway? I hadn't even told my own family. I'd just have to suffer in silence. I cried myself to sleep that night.Two weeks later, I came down the stairs in my best dress, and low heeled shoes. I didn't want to overpower Todd. He stood in the living room, a corsage in hand, dressed in tan slacks, and a blue blazer. He looked really good. Mom helped him pin the flowers on my dress. Dad took. And once more I knew there was no way to satisfy those feelings. I could never have her. She confronted me, demanding to know what the problem was. All I could do was look at her and say, ‘I hurt!’ I felt her arms go around me then. I responded in kind without a thought. She whispered to me, ‘I know.’ I could tell from her voice and her grip that she did know. There was nothing I had kept hidden from her. And she hurt as well. Not from loss, but because she knew I couldn’t have her. That wasn’t.