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“Okay, you too?” I questioned Grant. “Seriously?”

Grant shrugged apologetically and I waved them all off.

Dinner was blissful and at the same time uneventful. The turkey was a little dry, but we all gave a round of applause for effort. Dayana looked around at us with a peaceful smile, but faded quickly after dinner, insisting Dean take her home. She asked for Papa repeatedly, and I noticed when Dean gave her an excuse for his absence, she was fully aware he was lying and completely lucid. The recollection that he was gone was painful. Though their visit was short, it was more than Dean and I could have hoped for and I waved them a goodbye, saddened by the loss. Dean leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips, fire in his eyes, letting me know he would do much more under different circumstances. I took his kiss and returned it without worrying for once what the repercussions would be. I looked on as he helped her in the car and pressed two fingers to his mouth then held them up to me.

“El rayo te cayó hace mucho tiempo atrás, mi ángel,” my dad said behind me. I turned to him, clearly flustered until my mom stepped in and translated.

“Lightning struck you a long time ago,” she said, giving my father a knowing smirk.

“Okay, apparently I was absent the days the Whitakers took Spanish,” I mumbled, pushing past them to finish the dishes.

That night in bed, Dean texted me things I would never in a million years have recalled, and I replied to him with different memories. The saying that the people closest to you help you remember who you were rang true now more than ever. His memories kept me alive to him and mine kept him alive to me, Although our fondest ones were the same and remained the staples in our lives with or without each other, the smaller more detailed memories reminded us both that once upon a time, though we were young and sometimes ridiculous, we were beautiful. I looked at the clock and a sleeping Rose next to me and decided to ask Dean for more than what he remembered.

DALLAS: I’m ready to ask my questions.

DEAN: Okay.

DALLAS: Don’t lie.

DEAN: I promise.

DALLAS: Did you ever think about coming back?

DEAN: All the time.

DALLAS: Why didn’t you?

DEAN: The longer I took to get back, the further away I felt, and the more I stayed away the less I felt I had a right to come back. I was involved with Helena and determined to finish school. I eventually gave up on the thought that you would take me back.

DALLAS: Why?

DEAN: Rose told me you were in love.

DALLAS: Were you…in love?

Of course, he was in love, idiot. He was going to marry her.

DEAN: The part of me that thought I belonged there thought I was.

DALLAS: I wasn’t.

DEAN: I think I knew that deep down.

DALLAS: And still you stayed away.

DEAN: I regret it.

DALLAS: Goodnight.

Damn the explanation was so simple. Still, it hurt like hell.

My phone rang in my hand and I answered quickly, but he didn’t give me a chance to speak. “I never saw myself marrying her or going through with it, not once.” I quickly threw off the covers and snuck downstairs and out the back door. I welcomed the chill in the air as my face heated in anger.

“Why, why didn’t you go through with it? You asked her. You got down on your knee.” My voiced cracked on the last word. The thought of him asking her ripped through me painfully.

“You know why.”

“I want to go to sleep,” I said quickly.

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