Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
“Then what did you talk about?”
He holds my face in his hands and moves his thumbs across my cheeks as he stares at me with a dreamy expression I don’t think I’ve ever seen on his face before. It puts a nervous smile on my lips.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.
“I…” He blinks, casts his eyes down for a moment, then lifts his gaze back to mine. “I’m just so glad you’re here,” he murmurs.
I smile. “I am, too. But what about earlier… the vase…”
“There’s something I want to show you. That’s what I was talking to your mother about. She thinks it’s time that you should see it, too.”
Apprehension has entered the room. “See what, exactly?”
Leaning forward, he kisses me softly on the lips. “It’s out in my studio.” He releases my face and stands, holding his hand out to me. “Come on.” The small grin on his face diminishes some of my worry and confusion, but I still can’t imagine what him and my mother could’ve been talking about.
I slip on shoes and a hoodie, and we head out to the barn holding hands. Shadow follows us, frolicking in the dark.
“Is it a new sculpture?” I ask as he opens the door.
“No.”
I shove my hands in my sweatshirt pocket while he turns the lights on. Nothing interesting jumps to my attention, everything is in its usual place. I’m half expecting my mother to pop out of the storage room to tell me she’s decided to move back here to keep an eye on me.
“Come here.” There’s a vulnerable nervousness in his voice that tugs at my heart. When I reach him, he takes my hand, lacing our fingers together.
“I’m starting to get a little freaked out,” I say. “What did—” My eyes land on the old trunk sitting on his workbench, which I’m sure is the one that sat in the corner of my parents’ basement for years. I always thought my mom stored holiday wrapping paper and bows in it. My head tilts with confusion. “Is that my mom's trunk? What’s that doing here?”
“I don’t know how to start talking about this. I think you just have to do what I did; just look at everything.”
I squint my eyes at him questioningly before opening the trunk, and my heart immediately springs up into my throat when I see the drawings. I sift through them slowly with trembling fingers. A few of them I remember, but not all of them. I had no idea I’d drawn so many. There must be hundreds of them. The earliest in crayon, which then graduated to colored pencils. But the details of the subjects in all of them is undeniable. It’s Alex, Brianna, Lily, and Cherry. It’s Alex’s barn and his house.
I drew all of it. Over and over and over.
“Alex…” I breathe, but I can’t form any other words. My heart is beating too hard, my mind is whirling too fast. “I don’t…”
His hands rest on my shoulders from behind me, gently squeezing. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.
I nod.
“There’re videos of you as a child, too, if you want to see them.”
Swallowing hard, I nod again. I need to see it all.
He reaches around me to his laptop and clicks an icon. A video begins to play, and I watch childhood me. My heart hammers, and tears stream down my cheeks. When it ends, I play the next one. Memories that were hiding in the dusty corners of my mind flood back. I’d forgotten so much of this, but now I remember. The homesickness, my mother’s countless questions, the frustration that would build in me to the point of inconsolable tears. I wanted her to believe me so bad. I wanted to know why I always felt so lost and so out of place.
Now I know.
Over an hour passes of us silently watching the videos before I shut the lid of the laptop. “I can’t watch anymore,” I whisper hoarsely.
He hugs me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“Yes...” I reach up to clasp my hands around his strong arms over my chest. “No…I don’t know. I think I am.”
I’m so overwhelmed that my mind feels numb, as if it took in too much, too fast, and then stalled. I turn in his arms and stare up at him. He’s breathing heavily, just as I am.
“Wh-what does this mean?” My voice is shaky and sounds far away in my head.
He takes each of my hands in his. “I think it means whatever you believe it means.”
A long breath shudders through my lungs. “I’ve been thinking things, and feeling things, and remembering things, and feeling so damn confused for my entire life. I used to believe it when I was a little girl. I was so sure, Alex. I knew who I was, and I remembered you.” Hot tears slip down my cheeks. “And I was told it was wrong, that it was a dream… I was told not to talk about it. I was told it was all a fantasy I made up.” I suck in a breath. “The closer I got to you, it was like it was all trying to come out. I don’t even know how to explain it, but I was fighting so hard to get back. To me. To you. To Cherry and Lily. To our home. They made me believe I was going insane, that I didn’t exist.” I sob, shaking my head. “You saw the videos, I was just a little girl and I was so sad, and so adamant about being in the wrong place.”