Forgetting Read online

  “I knew she called you and that’s why you left. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I swear Stella. I swear.”

  His heart was pounding so hard I could feel each pulse against my cheek. Aside from the hospital, I had only seen Julian cry once. It was the night before he was deployed, and he’d shared his fears with me in the early hours of the morning. It was not death that he was frightened of, it was the thought of never seeing me again. No amount of reassurance could settle his heart of that uncertainty. Remembering what Raina had said, how the thought of me carried him through his worst nightmare, only to have it come true, shredded my wavering confidence to pieces. Over and over again, I began to wail.

  “I’m sorry, Julian. I’m sorry I left you. Please forgive me. Please.”

  He held me tightly as my body shivered with remorse, and waited for me to exhaust all emotion before responding. “Stella. I’m not angry at you. I promise. I thought that you would leave again as soon as this happened, but you didn’t, you’re here. I don’t know what to say.”

  We lay there a long while before moving out of each other’s arms. I could feel my eyes swollen and itchy from the unending tears of relief. Julian smoothed my face with the palm of his hand, then placed small kisses across the bridge of my nose and cheeks.

  I was waiting for absolution; I knew it had been granted, but I still needed to hear it. “Do you forgive me?” I asked tentatively.

  Giving a mischievous smirk, he held the thought long enough to make me anxious. “Do you forgive me?” he asked back.

  I closed my eyes and pulled in my bottom lip. I bit down hard, and let the final wave of uncertainty pass. Relishing the feeling of him so close, I opened them and smiled.

  “I love you, Julian. I never stopped. Not for a moment. I loved you so much it nearly killed me. I couldn’t live with the pain of knowing what I did to you and others. It was always myself I couldn’t forgive. Not you.”

  Julian’s brief smile vanished, and was replaced once again with melancholy. Knowing what awaited us on the other side of the door, I refused to spend another moment on regret. I pried myself from his iron grip, wiggled my way up to a kneeling pose, and leaned in to kiss him.

  “We don’t have much time,” I murmured.

  Julian saw the passion igniting in my eyes, then grinned and tackled me on the bed. Grief does strange things to people, but they do what they need to in order to press forward. For us, the connection of intimacy was favored. The passing thought of what the others in the house would think of our behavior at such a time was replaced with the devotion I held toward this man. Next to him, I could face any darkness, and for some reason, I was able to lead him through it as well. His caresses were more aggressive, as he devoured me with a new understanding. We both knew that there was much to discuss, but that would come in due time. Later, walking down the old stairs, we were greeted by the heartiest laughs. Ignoring it with a playful smile, I stepped over to Raina and kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear, “He knows.”

  Her eyes widened, as Julian came up behind me and rubbed my back reassuringly.

  “And yet we are all still here. The world didn’t fall apart like you feared, did it?” she said beaming brightly. Confused by the conversation, my mother coughed, as if we had forgotten she was in the room. The thrill of acceptance was tempered by humility. I didn’t want this to be about me. I wasn’t the one who deserved the attention. I felt my chin quiver, as the truth continued to be a difficult thing to share. I slipped from Julian’s embrace and sat at my mother’s feet. In a way she would understand instantly, I repeated the words Raina taught me so long ago.

  “Je suis á la maison . . .”

  I am home . . .

  Uncertain if she had heard me correctly, she looked to Julian and Raina for affirmation, before coming back to me in awe. “Ma fille douce . . .” she replied.

  My sweet girl . . .

  Overcome with emotion, she sank next to me on the ground and slipped her arms around my waist in tears. Whereas Julian had been my rock not long before, she too needed to let go of everything that weighed upon her soul. For all that I powered through, it was foolish to think the world would right itself instantly. Time had woven many layers over the years that would need additional time to adjust to. The human brain did not operate normally for an amnesiac in recovery. I often questioned over the past few months how someone could move forward when their entire life was on hold. Now I know, somehow you manage. You make a new life. You adapt to the changes and make the most of it, or you allow it to consume you by refusing to change. Of all the things we are certain of in life, only death and change are inevitable.

  Julian sat next to me and wrapped his arms around us both. The amount of love in the room was so heavy I could feel it press down against my bones. We laughed as we separated, a mess of damp faces and sweaty hair. Then I used my fingers to wipe away the tears of joy, and glanced at Raina. My mom and Julian both watched my smile falter, and turned to where Raina lay. Together we stood and walked to her side. Hand in hand, we surrounded her. At 3:15 in the afternoon, Raina Tempest Moreau peacefully took her last breath, as she watched those she loved most seeking comfort in one another. Her face was content, no longer wracked with suffering, and her last words were a parting gift. Together we could face the darkest of nights without fear, by holding steadfast to love. Because love never fails . . .

  My mother and I began to unravel the endless tubing and turn off the machines. The hospice staff remained distant, knowing she was in good hands. Once she was freed of her plastic chains, Julian tenderly lifted her from the bed and carried her into her room. Although she was gone, it did not stop him from saying goodbye and telling her how much he loved her. Doing my best to hold back the choking sobs, I sat on the edge of the bed and silently thanked her for everything she had taught me. She taught me how to love and accept myself, even when I didn’t know who I really was. I arrived feeling like a monster, and learned to see with new eyes. The ink on my skin and the sins of my past did not define who I was. By becoming trapped in my own mind, I too was set free.

  My father came quietly through the doorway and sat next to me on the bed. Then he pulled me into his arms, as my mother embraced Julian. After kissing my forehead, my father circled the bed to hug Julian, before saying his own goodbyes. In my absence, they’d grown even closer, yet another example of how God turned something so terrible into an act of love. I used to ask why God would allow terrible things to happen to good people, and for once, I understood. The tapestry of our lives suddenly took on a new perspective, and I could see our place in something so much bigger.

  We were allowed as much time as needed, before the coroner was called to take Raina to the funeral home. At night, I snuggled close to Julian in bed, and we talked into the wee hours of the morning. He told me about his deployment, and how much he loved the excitement of the Navy. Watching his eyes sparkle as he talked, made me proud he stayed enlisted and finished graduate school.

  “I wanted to understand you, Stella. I needed to know how a person’s mind could become so lost they felt disappearing was the only way they could cope. I thought if I could understand how the brain worked, it would give me some sort of closure.”

  “Did you figure it out?” I whispered hopefully.

  His arms constricted and he let out a deep breath. “Yes and no. I learned all of the physiological reasons why you did what you did. But I still couldn’t understand. You are so strong, I refused to believe you could be shaken like that. And when you surfaced in California, it was evident you’d suffered some type of mental breakdown. I told myself that if I could find a way to help you, that maybe there was still a chance for us.”

  His honesty was raw and beautiful. I thought I was foolish for having the same hope. Julian and I responded very differently to our grief. He became constructive, while I went the opposite direction. Like the young boy who waited patiently on the dock for the day I finally gave in, he was merely biding ti
me for the moment to arrive.

  “What did I do to deserve someone like you?” I asked in wonder.

  He responded with a fevered kiss, and I should have known better than to question my good luck.

  “You trusted me with your heart. That is the single most difficult thing for a person to do. To willingly give yourself so completely, knowing that it might be broken. I knew it was a risk, but it didn’t stop me from trying. I never regretted a moment of it.”

  I smiled and closed my eyes. Exhausted by the day’s events, I placed my wrist across Julian’s chest. “You trusted me, too. I’m sorry I let you down.”

  He hushed me softly, then held my hand in place and allowed me to feel the pounding rhythm below his skin. I could hear the crickets outside the window, the symphony of night, and allowed myself to relax. Being so tired made it difficult to remain positive. Ever knowing of my moods, Julian placed a gentle kiss on my lips and set my mind at ease.

  “You are here now. That’s all that matters, okay?”

  I nodded in agreement. I had to trust that it was enough. I fell into a deep sleep, and found myself greeted by something I thought was lost forever. A dream.

  The morning sun was bright and luminous. The vines were bursting like never before, heavy with fruit, and a light fog rested gently on the ground. Birdsong echoed across the valley, and a fox darted beneath the vines in pursuit of a rabbit. I laughed watching him race back and forth across the path, evaded by his prey. I stepped lightly along and told the fox, “You would be wiser to remain still and let the rabbit believe it was out of danger.” As if he understood, he curled next to a post and watched the rabbit hop cautiously through the fog.

  The trusting rabbit was unknowingly headed in the fox’s direction, just moments from being trapped in the hunter’s sharp teeth. I paused so as to not interfere with nature’s course, and held my breath, waiting for the fox to leap out from his spot and catch the rabbit off guard. The cracking of a branch startled the fox and gave away his position. The little rabbit sped off up the hill, and the pursuit continued. Not wanting to miss out on the ending, I ran after them through the vines.

  The fog grew higher as they raced into a ravine. Not paying attention to where I was headed, I felt myself collide into a low branch. I was knocked down to the ground, then the fog covered my body and surrounded me with an opalescent blanket. I felt myself out of breath and held my chest where the branch had struck. The little fox and rabbit were gone, and I was all alone. Suddenly, I was afraid and unable to move. Heavy steps moved in my direction, along with a familiar laugh. With strong arms, Julian reached down to the ground and lifted me up in his arms, above the fog. We were no longer in the vineyard. Loud waves crashed against the empty shoreline, and palm trees dotted the landscape. The water was a vivid blend of turquoise and emerald.

  “I know this place,” I proclaimed.

  Julian smiled and set me down, and my bare feet curled into the soft sand. Delighted, I raced off onto the shore and dove head first into the water. I broke the surface, and was at the edge of my parents’ dock, able to see the large striped bass and blue gills move about. Julian was gone, and the water was calm. Hauling myself out, I noticed that my skin was bare and small rivulets of water were trailing down my legs. My only thought was finding Julian again. Running up the back trail, I stopped just before the clearing and peered through the trees. A woman who looked similar to me was sitting next to my mother with an infant cradled at her breast. Her face glowed with contentment as they laughed and fussed over the child.

  The glass door slid open and Julian walked out equally joyous. His eyes were full of adoration, while he bent down and kissed the woman lovingly. A sharp pain ripped through my chest watching him with her. I wanted to scream, but it lodged in my throat. I was frozen in place and unable to move. Before me, the baby was graciously passed to my mother for attention. Hot tears burned through my eyes and the excruciating hum of a violin began to play Canon in D minor.

  My heart was falling to pieces watching the dream play out. I was a ghost. Was this the life Julian would have had if I’d never had the accident? It was quite possible. Who was I to be angry about a life I chose to walk away from? Unable to look any longer, I turned around and found myself in a stadium at the base of the stage steps. The crowds were chanting, “Protest, protest.”

  Glancing back down at my arms, I saw even more ink strewn about and wrapped in leather. I balanced precariously on stiletto heels as I walked slowly toward the top. I could hear the engineer give directions through the ear piece, though it was muffled.

  “Two minutes until show time.”

  I cracked the heavy door, and the crowd was nearly deafening as it shouted for me to arrive. The band had all taken their places, and were waiting patiently for the show to begin. It was like clockwork. A small strip of dim lights guided me to the microphone. I grasped the cool metal base with one hand, removed the mic with the other, and began to tap my toe. The crack of the amplifiers incited more noise from the audience, and I could feel the electricity in my veins. This was my home. My voice was not trapped here. The vibrations in my vocal cords began to shift as though the words were lightening waiting to strike. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, and softly began the last song I wrote. It was supposed to be on my new album, the one I was going to release just days after the film festival. It was about him. They were all about him. And this was my goodbye.

  Time has never been a friend of mine

  The hours pass and leave nothing behind

  I tried to stay

  I tried to pray

  Tried to tell myself it would be all okay but

  I keep forgetting what it feels like to be loved

  I keep forgetting what it’s like to be the one

  I keep forgetting every detail of your face

  Maybe it’s best, if I let you go

  But I keep forgetting how

  I let myself fall to pieces over you

  The walls so high no one gets in

  I hide from pleasure, hide from pain

  Hide from love and I’m going insane so

  Maybe it’s best if I let you go

  But I keep forgetting how

  I keep forgetting how

  Upon opening my eyes, I was no longer on the stage, but standing at the base of an elaborate altar. The wood was so luminous it appeared as if it were cast gold, with royal blue and violet shadows from the windows behind. Elaborate statues of the saints flanked the cross, and at the bottom was a marble statue of Pieta, the Blessed Virgin Mary. I was in Paris, at the Notre Dame Cathedral. I had come here after an exhausting concert, booze soaked and angry at God. It was two weeks before the film festival, and I felt my body starting to shut down. Going a million miles an hour, I would silently confess only an act of God could save me from myself. I paid my two Euros, by dropping the coins into the small metal box, and lit a prayer candle. Remembering my actions within the dream, I walked to the side sanctuary where the candle was located, and knew it was impossible to think it was still there.

  My heels clicked loudly against the polished marble in the dark church, and a soft glow guided me forward. Walking through the massive pillars, I could see the wrought-iron tiers of red glass vases. Each one contained a small, unlit candle, and in the center was where I made my plea. The tiny flame was close to being snuffed out, but it still burned as brightly as it could. Not wanting it to disappear and leave me in the dark, I searched the space for something to ignite.

  I reached into my pockets, but all that was there was the money I had brought to buy small souvenirs. I didn’t care that it was all I had. If I didn’t move quickly, I would be unable to see. I twisted the Euro in my hand, then placed it to the side of the flame so I didn’t extinguish it. Once burning, I placed it immediately on the candle next to it. “C’mon, c’mon,” I repeated until the wick burned orange and red, then sparked.

  Looking around, I was no longer able to see the main part of the cathedral a
nd became frightened. I needed to get out. I shoved the rest of the money into the box, then stuffed a few candles in my pockets, hoping they would be enough. I walked slowly toward the exit, and the small candle endured the journey to the door. One was enough, I made it.

  The dream left me rattled and unable to sleep. So many things were etched into my memory, and I was overwhelmed by what it chose to recall. Although I had been sleeping, it was just as real as the life I awoke to. As much as I wanted to admit I was okay, and from a physical stand point I was, from an emotional and spiritual aspect I was still crippled. Hearing Julian sleeping soundly beside me, I realized the pain in my heart was real, and I knew deep inside he deserved a life I couldn’t give him, no matter how much I cared. Julian had already sacrificed so much to care for Raina. It was unfair to subject him to a life of uncertainty.

  Although we had found one another, the truth only amplified how different we had become. Our time here was a gift, albeit a double-sided one.

  I crawled out of the bed and reached into my desk drawer to retrieve the small leather box. I opened it up, removed the ring, and held it up to the moonbeam shining through the window. Even in the dark, it glowed with a brilliant shimmer. Rather than slipping it onto my finger, I gingerly held it in my fingertips and looked at Julian wistfully. He deserved the doting wife and beautiful child. Raina was wise in her advice, and it wasn’t too late for me to make things right. I tucked the ring back into the box, closed the hinge, and knew what needed to be done. I had to let him go.

  ~ This is how we say Goodbye ~

  Three long days passed before the memorial service took place. People traveled from far away to pay their respects. Raina’s relatives from Alsace arrived the night before, and my mother hosted an elaborate gathering. While Julian was busy getting affairs in order, I went about with my own. The security team was ecstatic about my recovery, and an afternoon spent at the hospital while Brandon evaluated me proved revealing. The knowledge I thought was lost was easy to recall, and made the diagnostics move quickly.