Page 34 of Xavier

"No, you're Malynda," I respond forcefully, grabbing her by the wrist. "You're MY Malynda.”

She doesn't shake me off, just looks into my eyes. They're closed off now. Cold. Flat.

"’Malynda’ doesn't exist. So, whatever you think happened between you and her, never ever existed. I'm not her. And I'm not yours." The cold in her voice stings and I struggle not to let go of her wrist, enduring the frostbite.

"What the hell happened to you? Tell me. You owe me at least that."

"I don't owe you anything." This time she does shake me off, ripping her arm away from me.

I catch her face in my hands instead.

"I know you're in there. Malynda, I know you're in there!" Before I can stop myself, I bury my face in her hair. She still smells the same. Vanilla. Sweet, heady, musky. Driving me insane.

"Stop it, Xavier!" she shouts, and I step away out of shock at how she can be so cold. "I don't know you. And you certainly don't know me."

"You want proof? Is that what you want? You need me to remind you? You want me to remind you of the first time we met? You want me to remind you about my black eye and split lip? The hours we spent at the basketball court? The hours we spent at the lake?" There's a knot in my throat that forces me to stop talking. I take a deep breath and pull something out of my pocket. "Or this – maybe this will prove it to you that I do know you." I take her hand and shove the wrinkled unopened envelope into it.

She looks down, her mouth falling open before she looks up at me again. There's a flash of something nostalgic, vulnerable in her eyes.

"Is this? Is this what I think it is, the letter I wrote you that day? You still have this? How? Why?"

"I found it at the lake after you were there the first time. You must've dropped it. "

"You never told me you saved this."

"No. I thought... I thought it might come in handy one day. Not like this though. I never thought we’d be here like this. Me trying to remind you who we are, what we were to each other.” The frustration burns in my chest. This is not how I’d imagined our reunion to be.

She sighs. "Xavier."

"Look, I don't know what happened to you, what happened to us. But if you're so intent on not acknowledging what existed between us in here," I tap myself on the chest, "then that is something that you can hold. Can touch. To help you remember."

She looks down at the envelope again, her fingers running along the crumpled surface of the paper, along the torn edges. I know she's going back to that day, like I have, the thousands of times over the years when missing her.

I watch her eyes soften, the slight part of her lips.

"You remember now, don't you?" I lean in, so close my words move her hair. "Close your eyes," I whisper, like just like I did all those years ago. And for just a moment, like all those years ago, she obeys. "Remember us. How we laughed, how we talked, how we touched each other."

There's a fluttering of her eyelash against her face, then they snap open.

"No,” she says. But it's not to me. She shakes her head and says it again, "No." She's talking to herself.

I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her into me before she retreats back into herself.

"Stay with me, Malynda." I tilt her face up to look at me, and tears spring to her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Xavier, I can't. I can’t do this." The utter sadness in her voice pierces my skin and I let her go.

I don't know what happened to her. But I will find out and I know I need to give her the space she needs to open up.

"Fine." I say, more brusquely than I mean to and even through the tears, I can see the confusion in her eyes at my change. "Let's get to work."

"Work?" her voice trembles.

"Well, you came here to help ASH Industries with the design of our youth center, right?"

She nods, slowly, unsure.

"Then let's get down to work."