Page 81 of Shameless Vows

But withwhatphone?

If my phone had allegedly been stolen, how was I calling and sending messages?

I mean… I probably just bought a new one… right?

Again, something about all of this makes perfect sense while also not making senseat all.There are dozens of little puzzle pieces floating around in the air, and I can’t figure out how they fit together, but Iknowthey fit together.

It sure would help if I couldactually fucking rememberwhat happened to me.

The one thing I do remember is that Elise was the one close friend I had at the time that I might have gone on a weekend trip with, like I told my mom. And, based on what Elise just told me, that obviously didn’t happen. So, I lied to them about that. I have never lied to my parents about anything, let alone a bizarre lie about going on a trip.

I alsoneverbrought up the topic of my inheritance. I’ve never been an entitled, spoiled brat. My parents have always given me everything I could possibly want, and I can’t imagine the trauma of rape would show itself as greediness for cash. I’ve also never beenhatefulto them, and though it’spossible, Iguess, for the trauma of my ordeal to turn me into a mean person, it’s still kind of unbelievable.

It seems I really did lose my mind.

Either that, or…

Some kind of foul play was going on that my parents weren’t aware of, and that I can’t remember due to the faultiness of my brain.

And didn’t Malachi say that Elle, and her professor, and the psychologist I’m supposed to start seeing soon told him my memory lapses are likely a result of me being afraid and blocking things out?

Didn’tEllesay that tomeon my wedding day?

She did. I rememberthatwith perfect clarity.

“Sometimes forgetting things you don’t like is a very common coping mechanism. It’s your mind’s way of protecting you from unpleasant experiences that might keep you from being functional later in life.”

So, what if something was going on in my life that wasso fucking scaryand traumatizing that I just blocked it out?

I mean, I woke up battered in a jail cell in Mexico after I had killed a guy, so surely, whatever I was doing that led me to that must’ve been really fucking serious and potentially really fucking scary.

The puzzle pieces are all still floating around in the air, but something about this feels eerily similar to realizing that I hadn’t actually cheated on Malachi, and the whole thing was just a cruel prank.

It all feels like a set-up.

Like someone set me up.

I don’t knowhoworwhyanyone would, or evenwhowould, and maybe I’m just paranoid after the cheating prank, but I don’t think anything that happened during that missing time period was just me being an irresponsible bitch. It’s all way too out-of-character, and I think someone else was involved, and they compelled me to do this.

“Anyway,” Elise’s voice breaks through my roiling thoughts. “That’s all I remember about it.”

“Wow,” is all I can think of to say.

“Yeah,” she echoes. “It was such a terrible ordeal. It may be for the best that you don’t remember the details. I’m sure it was extremely traumatic. I hope you’ve managed to heal from all that.”

“I’m… you know.” I pick at the cloth of the comforter, still reclined on my bed, and then force a laugh. “I mean, I’m still here, so that’s something.”

“Yeah,” she says again, this time with a smile in her voice.

“I’m actually back in New York now,” I say, switching gears. “Are you still in the city? We could get lunch sometime and catch up some more.”

“Oh yes, I am. That would be wonderful. You just let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.”

“I will for sure.” I pause. “Anyway, it was really nice talking to you, Elise. Thank you for explaining all that for me. And thank you for taking care of me while it was happening. I hope I told you thank you at the time.”

“Oh, you did,” she says earnestly. “You’re a sweetheart, Isla. You always have been.”

Ihave been, haven’t I? I never would’ve done all the things Mamá said without something else going on.

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