Page 30 of Until You Found Me

“You wanna talk about it?” He tries. “Did you see the girl again?”

“No. Not her this time.” It’s a quick answer, coupled with her sliding further down and covering her face with her hands. “All I see is him without a face. All I feel is him. I was at a funeral this time, but I couldn’t see who died. I wondered if it was me, in that weird dream logic way, where something like that would make sense.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“I don’t think so. I couldn’t see. Everyone was crying but I felt nothing because I don’t remember and then…you know how everything blends together in a dream? Does that happen to you, too?”

“Sometimes.”

“I was at this funeral and then I was at home watching him answer the door for the police because someone made a call for a wellness check.”

“Fucking wellness checks.” He growls, knowing exactly what that means. Remembers the few times neighbors called the cops and someone came to his door when he was a kid. His father would react as if his momma allowed the outside world to see their personal family trauma on purpose when nothing was further from the truth.

Tessa frowns up at the ceiling, her hands fisting in the comforter over her belly. “It was worse that night.”

“I’m sorry. Was always worse at my house too after the cops came knocking.”

He says these things about his past as if it’s easy to talk about when it isn’t. It’s an unfortunate thread between them though, and trading these experiences back and forth withher is somehow easier than he thought it could be.

With a mournful look, she briefly rests the back of her hand on his chest in solidarity before pulling away.

“It’s all jumbled. I’m skipping around to bits and pieces and I don’t know what fits where.” She turns on her side to face him, tucking her arms in close to her chest. “I don’t wanna sleep, Logan. I don’t wanna feel what he does to me anymore. If this is what it takes to remember, then it’s not worth it.”

The dog jumps up between them, wedging his way in to flop down with a dramatic sigh. It prompts a painfully fake smile from Tessa as she strokes his fur. Logan does the same, nudging her fingers where they’ve come to rest over the top of the dog’s ribs. It’s the easiest form of contact he can offer without the risk of trampling her comfort zone. She surprises him by hooking her little finger with his in a tiny gesture that feels monumental.

“You don’t have to remember. Can start over and leave it all behind.” They both know it’s not so simple, but he says it, anyway.

“Yeah? Just look forward instead of back?”

“You can be anyone you wanna be. Do anything. Go anywhere.”

“Sounds like freedom when you put it like that,” she says wistfully.

“It can be.”

“Okay, I’ve decided I won’t remember. I’ll catch fish out on the boat with you instead.” It’s the only kind of response appropriate for such a suggestion.

He raises a brow, playing along. “Sure you’re not trying to steal my job?”

“Never. But I hope you’re up for a shipmate?”

“Not really, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”

She squeezes his finger with her own, her smile overshadowed by the weight of sorrow in her eyes. Right now, he would whisk her away to any place she desired to escape those memories.

“Can we sail Canada one day?” she says softly. “Two birds, one stone. A new life for me and a year’s worth of insulin for you.”

In some ways, he regrets telling her as much as he has about his situation. He’s afraid she might see it as a burden like others in his life have.

“Just run away together?” he teases, feeling a twinge of fear at what her response will be.

No, not together.

With you? Never.

Don’t get the wrong idea, that’s not what I meant.

He expects any variation of those options and braces for it. She only smiles softly in that way that’s begun to pierce through the slightest cracks of his cold dead heart.

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