Page 28 of When Forever Stays

She stands still as a statue and looks just past me. Her silence continues to stretch, and my nerves twist into a tight coil.

“Please, talk to me, Dana. Say something.”

She uncrosses her arms and tosses them in the air. “I’m happy you’re both okay.”

A smidgeon of my tension releases but I don’t know what else to say.

She must not like my silence because she adds, “What else do you want me to say?”

Tell me you forgive me. Tell me you understand. Tell me we’re going to get past this,I want to say but don’t. “All I want to know is what you’re thinking.”

She shakes her head and chews on her bottom lip before answering, “I need time. And space.” Turning back toward the café, she adds, “And I need to get back to work.”

As we walk to The Screaming Peach, the urge to take her hand consumes me. But her stiff posture screams at me to stay away. So I do.

We follow a large group of people into the café. She gives me what appears to be a regretful look before slipping behind the counter and donning her apron.

I’m too distracted by the lack of closure to our conversation to think about much else. I grab my Bible and lukewarm coffee, then slip out the front door as she waits on customer after customer.

Dana said she needs time. It’s a fair request and one that I plan on respecting.

Instead of going back to Crew’s apartment to wallow in self-pity, I head over to Dr. Woodhouse’s office early. Considering my memories are back, my headaches are gone, and the pain in my side has dropped to a minimal ache, I’m hoping he’ll tell me I can live on my own. If he does, I can finally go home. Now that I know where my home is.

As much as I appreciate Crew’s hospitality—if I can call it that—I’m ready to be out of his apartment. It’s obvious I’ll never win him over, and to be fair, I’m not his biggest fan either. Every time he’s been around, it’s like navigating a minefield.

The only person I want to be with is the woman who said she needs space.

I open the door to Dr. Woodhouse's office and the bell jingles. After I give the receptionist my name and date of birth I sit in one of the chairs in the waiting room.

“Dr. Woodhouse will see you now,” the young nurse says only a few minutes later.

I follow her into the exam room and sit in one of the chairs. Dr. Woodhouse comes in moments later with a smile.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he gets himself situated.

“A lot better, thank God. My memories came back.”

Dr. Woodhouse claps. “That’s great news! How’s your head feeling? Any dizziness?”

“Nothing terrible. Everything else is feeling better too.”

We continue the exam, and as I had hoped, he clears me to go home and resume most activities—although he cautions me against surfing alone. I agree and set an appointment to follow up in a few weeks.

There’s a small lift in my spirit as I walk to Crew’s apartment. Even though things are uncertain with Dana, at least I’ll be in my own place again and free of the tension with Crew. Of course, having a mostly clean bill of health from the doctor is a step in the right direction too.

Once I let myself into the apartment, I pack up my minimal belongings and throw them in a garbage bag I find in one of Crew’s cupboards.

I’m getting ready to leave when there’s a knock at the door. I swing the door open and find Dana standing on the doorstep. She shifts on her feet as I take her in. She’s wearing ripped denim shorts, a black tank top, and sneakers. Her hair is down, the wavy strands fall over her tanned shoulders. It’s a more relaxed look than the one she had at the café. Hopefully, it’s a good sign.

“Dana.” My voice comes out thick.

“Hey,” she says almost shyly.

“Come in.” She follows me inside, and I shut the door behind her. “What brings you over?” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I add, “I thought you needed space.”

Dana shakes her head. “I was wrong to say that earlier. I didn’t handle your news well, and I’m sorry for that.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “How do you think you should have handled it then?”

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