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“Jesus, you look like shit,” Sara says out of nowhere, making me jump. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust, and when I finally focus, I realize I’m leaning against the wall.When did I stand up?
“Um, wow. Tell me how you really feel.” I try to joke but it falls flat, my lackluster tone giving the game away.
“What’s going on?” she asks, her motherly voice kicking in.
“It depends,” I say honestly. “How long were you there?”
Sara laughs but it’s one of those laughs that means this is anything but funny. “I just arrived, but from that comment, I’m guessing you’ve been out of it all morning.”
“Notallmorning. I smiled when Mrs. Jones stopped by to ask for her usual bouquet.”
A soft smile tugs at Sara’s lips. Mrs. Jones is always so busy she never takes the time to focus on what shop she’s walked into before asking for an order. She once asked the butcher for one of our Christmas scents. We’d be worried if she didn’t have three kids in tow, a bunch of bags, and a sleep-deprived expression.
“I guess that’s something, but you really do look unwell.”
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“Of course you are. Silly me. How could I have possibly thought otherwise.”
“Sara.”
“Nope. I thought you said Jesse leaving was a good thing. I even pretended not to see the signs that you’d been crying after he left, but—”
“It is!” I cut her off. “That’s not why I look and feel like shit. Well, I guess he’s a part of it. But this time, it’s not him. Him leaving was the right thing.”
“Oh-kay.” Sara drags out her vowels as she scrunches her face in confusion.
“I had another memory, or dream. No, it was a memory. I know it was.”
Sara’s eyes light up. “That’s good, right?”
“No, it’s not. I’ve recently come to terms with my memory loss. And while I feel like a broken record in saying this, I'm moving on.”
“I thought you were working with your therapist to try and figure it all out?”
“I was. But after finding out the truth from Jesse, I changed my mind. I don’t want the memories back. Last night I remembered Jade and how I missed the signs that something was off. Imissedit.”
“Oh, Willow. No. You can’t blame yourself for anything that happened that day. You—”
“It’s my fault!” I yell, and then softly add. “I pushed her.”
Taking a tentative step forward, Sara pulls me into a hug and gives me a squeeze. I'd told her about Jesse’s big reveal the day I came back. I didn’t really have a choice. I was so shattered, I needed someone to pick up the pieces.
“It’s not your fault,” Sara says, as she steps back. “If Jesse’s story is true then it was a freak accident. You can’t let the past get to you.”
I open my mouth to speak but she covers it with her hand. “I thought you were moving on.” She raises a brow.
Dammit.“I was, but it’s hard when it’s all I can think about.”
Sara frowns, seemingly lost in thought. “Why today?” she asks after a beat, making me frown too.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve had two of thesememory dreams, right?” She holds up two fingers.
“Two and a half.”
“Okay. What’s the common denominator?”
