Page 69 of Don't Forget Me
“Papa, why is Mom crying?”
25
NICK
Nick held on for as long as he could, and Liz grew lighter in his arms, her skin going translucent, until all he clutched was air.
Air and regret.
Regret because she was gone, and here he sat. Alone.
He didn’t bother wiping away the tears in his eyes as he hunched forward on Liz’s bed, his back shaking.
He’d promised they’d find each other, but what if he never made it back? What if his body died, and he didn’t see her again?
He should have seen the signs this morning when she didn’t want to get out of bed, or even later as every step she took looked like she was walking in mud. But he hadn’t wanted to see it.
He hadn’t wanted to believe it.
The bed, still warm from her presence, smelled like her, and he didn’t want to leave.
But he also couldn’t stay.
He stopped in the doorway and bent to pick up the script that lay next to the overturned lamp. She’d must have read the ending. He almost laughed at her obvious anger. Almost.
Leaving her room behind, Nick walked out into the rest of the house, his eyes finding the two bowls in the sink, the extra water glass on the kitchen island.
Signs she’d been real. He hadn’t imagined all these months with her, everything she’d made him feel.
There was a lonely air to the dark house, and he couldn’t take it. So, he went to the one room she’d stayed away from after their first argument about it. Stephen’s study. Reaching up, he found the key on top of the frame and unlocked the door.
It looked the same as it always did, untouched and underused. The smell of musty books permeated the air. He turned on a standing lamp and dust particles caught in the streams of light.
With a sigh, he rounded the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer, putting Stephen’s script back where Liz had found it.
“You shouldn’t have yelled at her.” Stephen’s presence wasn’t as comforting as it had once been.
“Which time?” There’d been a few arguments.
Stephen huffed out a breath. “When you found her in here. This was never your room, and I think I’d have liked her sitting in here. At least then, it wouldn’t have gone unused.”
“I couldn’t—”
“What? Share me with her? Not then, but you ended up doing that anyway, didn’t you?” Stephen ran a finger over the top of the desk as if he could clear away the dust, but, of course, he couldn’t.
“I didn’t know her then.” Nick slumped into the chair and put his head in his hands. “I didn’t know she… that I…” His breath came out ragged. “I didn’t know I could fall in love with her.”
Stephen released an inaudible sigh. “Why am I here, Nick?”
He lifted his face to his brother. “What?”
“You bring me here when you need me to tell you something, but I’m all out of profound words of wisdom.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t bring you here.”
Stephen’s lips tilted into a sad smile. “Ghost’s don’t exist, brother.”
“Yeah? Well, neither do weird coma dreamlands, but here we are.” People didn’t fall in love in the unconscious world, they didn’t fix themselves in their sleep.
