"Baby, are you okay? You seem kind of out of it," Jill asks, looking at me across the dinner table.

"Yeah," I respond, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, I'm in kind of a daze."

"That's alright. Do you want to talk about whatever it is that has you thinking so hard? Or maybe tell me what you have in your hand that you've been playing with all night?"

"Oh," I reply, not realizing that she had noticed that. "It's nothing," I state, moving the envelope back into my wallet before she asks again.

"Aaron, please. Talk to me."

"It's really nothing to talk about, just seeing Penelope again today has me in a ruminative mood."

"How did you two know each other? Neither of you really said."

"Oh, she was one of my students during grad school. I was her TA, and she would come in to my office on occasion to chat about readings and things, so we got pretty close."

"You had that much of an effect on her as a TA? I mean, I know you're a good teacher, but still."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she came back to see you. She sought you out."

"Yeah, I mean, we were very close."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I'm telling you everything."

"No, you're not. I can tell."

"Jill, I really don't want to get into it."

"Well I do. A woman who hasn't been part of your life for, what, ten years, suddenly comes back into your life and I'm supposed to just drop it?"

"Yes. That is the general meaning of 'I don't want to get into it.'"

"Seriously? Aaron, what has come over you?" she asks, and I look up at her for the first time since the beginning of the conversation and realize how upset she is becoming over this conversation. Maybe I should just come clean. Save us both the headache.

"Fine. I'll tell you. Penelope wasn't just my student. We started seeing each other. But things, as they were bound to, became very complicated very quickly and we ended up splitting up, much against my will. Then a month or so later, she was seeing someone else. I never really got over her, but she had moved on, so I physically moved on, transferred schools, started over. I learned from the mistake I made. They tell you on the first day of TA training to not sleep with your students, but I threw that rule out as soon as I met her, and it was the hardest thing I've been through."

"Are you still in love with her?"

"No!" I respond, incredulous. "What would make you ask that?"

"Well, you said that you've never really gotten over her, so in my mind that means that you still aren't over her. And by virtue of her having been in your office today, I can only imagine that she has broken up with the other guy and was doing the visit to see if you were single."

"I don't-I don't really know."

"Aaron," she starts, grabbing my hand from across the table. "Pretend for a minute that I'm not your girlfriend. That I'm just a friend. Do you still have feelings for her?"

"Yes, Jill, I do. I don't think I'll ever be able to fully move on from Penelope. I've been trying for years. I threw myself at women when I first moved, just trying to find physical comfort from other women, even just distraction so that I wouldn't be constantly thinking about her. And then I met you, and you made me forget about her and want to move on completely…"

"But you couldn't," she interjected. "She's your person." I look at her confused by that statement, and she continues. "The one person you were meant to be with. Your other half. Your one, true love."

"I don't know about all of that. I don't know that I even believe in one person being the person you're meant to be with."

"Well I do, and I can tell."

"How can you tell?"

"I saw the way you looked at her when I walked into your office. And heard the way you talked about her. Plus, there's always the tell of how you say the person's name." I lower my head, looking at my lap, knowing that at least in the last respect, she is completely right.

"I'm sorry, Jill," I state, looking back up at her.

"No, don't be," she responds, pulling her hand back, out of my grasp. "I really liked you, Aaron, but she's your person. There's no competing with that." I smile at her slightly before she continues. "What was that thing you were playing with?"

"Oh," I reply, pulling my wallet back out and removing the envelope. "It's a letter. Penelope wrote it to me when I was moving."

"Do you always carry it with you?" she asks and I nod in response. "Can I read it?" I think about it for a second before handing it to her.

For the next few minutes, I watch her reading the note, and as I know it by heart, I know exactly what part she's reading when she smiles or frowns. Finally, she folds it back up and hands it to me. "Wow. She really loves you. You need to go get that girl."

"I'm not sure that she's going to want me after seeing us together."

"She will. Go to her."

I approach the door, feeling like I'm 20 years old again, my heart pounding in my chest so hard that I'm simultaneously worried about having a heart attack and unable to hear anything. After taking a deep breath, I knock on the classroom door and hear her heels hitting the floor as she crosses the room. She opens the door and I can't help but smile at her startled look. Before either of us can say anything, I grab hold of her and pull her as close to me as I can before my lips find hers.