CHAPTER 58
I’ve been back at work for a few weeks. All has been normal, and I’ve even made headway on the Lakeman deal. The partners are circling a new property. James has been professional in all interactions, and even nicer if that’s possible. It shows what a true gentleman he is. Rosemary Cosmetics will be easier to finalize, but I won’t allow myself to get excited until both are executed contracts.
Linden now speaks about our shared past. He holds a strong conviction to fix things between us. This trait makes me understand why he brought me back in the first place. He’s been wearing me down with his Wade charm. He extended me an invitation for Christmas Eve, probably hoping Evan and I could reconnect, but I decided to spend the holiday with Aggie, Lou, and Paul. We took a field trip to Ozzy’s.
Paul constructed the fake silver Christmas tree in Ozzy’s room. Aggie and I decorated it with popcorn strings and paper ornaments, while Lou catered the food. We sang carols while wearing funny holiday hats and drinking frozen concoctions Aggie called Christmas Orgasms. To date, it was the worst drink I’ve ever tasted but the best holiday in my recollection.
My memories are still spotty but filling in. In a recent checkup, a brain scan found that swelling had receded. This explains the return of some memories, though it fails to explain why the ones of Evan haven’t. This saddens me because I want to remember who I was before my life changed so drastically and why I fell for Evan the first time.
Aggie, Lou, and Paul invited me to join them tonight for New Year’s, but I needed some time alone. I’ve found a strange calmness since the last time Evan and I spoke. An acceptance? Perhaps. But more like relief—relief that I meant something to someone and the years right before were happy. Something I questioned when my family relationships became strained after.
If I had paid attention to what arose inside me, I would have understood something important. Even if my head didn’t remember who I was before, clearly my heart did. I vow from this moment to listen more carefully.
I amble the lakefront path. Cloudy tendrils of air coil in and out of mouth and through my thick scarf. The ground glistens with icy patches of snow. The wind whips with a howl, and I burrow into my ankle-length feather coat.
When I reach my favorite spot, I find a seat on the retaining wall to view the city. It’s late, maybe two a.m. The city is winding down from the celebratory events of the evening. High-rises sleep, which leaves the night sky crystal clear. To my surprise, I find stars.
With thick gloves, I brush the snow away and I lie back on the wall with knees bent and snow boots anchored. I stare upward. I dig my hand into my coat pocket for a tissue but find the photo of Evan and me I took from my old pinboard weeks ago. I’ve been carrying it around.
I lift the photo to my eyes. A shock of melancholy spreads through me when I stare at the happy couple. In the photo, we’re snuggled under the hood of a blanket like a burrito. My arms are tossed over his shoulders, tugging him close. I’m kissing his cheek but looking back at the camera mischievously. He’s leaning into me with a grin plastered on his face, one arm reaching forward, holding the camera for the selfie.
When I consider what may have happened before this image or right after, tingles prick at my core. They wash over my heart and up my neck. I know for sure because seeing them together is how I imagine myself the night Evan and I spent together. The love could not be denied, even if I thought it fake at the time.
I flip over the photo and search for a date. Instead, I’m surprised to find writing. It’s faded and barely legible. I use the flashlight on my cell to read it. When I do, I hear Evan’s deep voice in my mind.
Cait,
The heart can lie. It’s the soul that speaks the truth. And I’ve learned from listening that you are my truth.
—E.
I read it until I have every word memorized. The wind whips almost tearing the photo from my gloved hands, but I tuck it into my coat pocket for safekeeping.
Considering his note, I stare at the sky and make a wish. The same wish I’ve had for years—to remember. I pick out a few constellations but the more I stare, the more ten thousand points of lights sear brighter into the dark indigo sky. I blink several times, but each sparkling star continues to throb and pulse until their brightness grows larger.
I lift my hand to shield my eyes, but what’s happening is not outside, it’s inside my mind. Even with my eyes closed, the illumination intensifies until each spot blinds me with vibrant, blazing light. The sky melts like a curtain that’s been hiding secrets. I squint to focus. My vision blurs and adjusts, and that’s when I see him.
Evan. He’s laughing. Smiling. We’re wrapped in a blanket on my bed. He lifts the cell above our heads to take a selfie, but drops it. It crashes on his cheek. He yowls and winces from the pain. I can’t help but snicker and reach over and rub his reddening cheek. The moment is light. He tries again. He lifts the cell. As he’s adjusts the shot on the camera, I kiss the bruise on his injured cheek. There’s a click and a bright flash, capturing the moments after our first time. And then a gleaming thought overpowers every other. I loved this man, dearly, completely, and endlessly.
When the meaning of these words seep into me, I recall all the reasons why. The images of our life unfold in the quick flashes that I’m now accustomed to. Of the memories I see, I determine our life was beyond beautiful, our friends caring and loyal, his family, loving and welcoming, and Evan, thoughtful, confident, funny, and sexy. Another bell rings clear in my mind: I ache to have it all again.