“Look give him a break. Don’t you think he feels bad enough?” I hear Lisa's voice before I’m down the stairs.
“Don’t tell me how to act or how to feel. You’re not the one who sat here for hours waiting on her fiancé with her parents, looking like an complete idiot,” Jenna’s voice screeches.
“I’m sorry, but you do know that he has a neurological condition, right? You act like he did this deliberately!” Lisa fires back. Jenna starts to say something, but they both quiet when they see me.
“Hey,” I let out a breath as I walk toward Jenna. She’s wearing big round black sunglasses, and her arms are folded across her chest.
“So you’re alive,” she states sharply.
Lisa huffs. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she starts to walk off, but turns and curtseys. “Queen Jenna, it would be nice if maybe instead of freakin’ out on the guy, you give him a fucking hug,” she says, before storming out of the dining room.
“Have a fantastic day, Lisa!” Jenna shouts sarcastically before turning her attention to me. She takes off her glasses and what I see breaks my heart. Her eyes are puffy. I can tell she’s been crying.
“So you think I’m being a bitch, too? That I don’t have a right to be upset? That I’m just this selfish angry pre-bridezilla?”
“Jenna, I’m sorry,” I try to pull her into a hug but she pushes me away. She sits down and covers her face.
“So what happened, Chris?” she asks, and I really wish I could give her an answer.
“I—I don’t know. The last thing I remember is telling my parents we were engaged,” I admit, sitting in the chair across from her.
“You know you talked to me right?” she asks sharply. I shake my head. I don’t remember talking to her after telling my parents.
“Yeah you told me your mom wasn’t thrilled about us getting married and then rushed me off the phone,” she says in a huff. I know I wouldn’t have told her that. At least, I wouldn’t have used those words.
“Did I tell you where I was?” I ask, confused.
“No. You rushed me off the phone and said you’d call me back in a few minutes. Next thing I know, my parents are at my house, and I still haven’t heard from you. Then we’re at your door, and your parents have no clue where you are. That was so much fun. My father was absolutely thrilled,” she says in an exaggerated tone as the doorbell rings.
“I thought I was doing better, Jenna. I never would have dragged you into this if I knew this was starting again.” I stand up and hold my head in frustration. No woman in her right mind would want to deal with this. I don’t want to deal with this. I hear her sigh.
“You’re not dragging me into anything, Chris. I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you too. It’s just, ugh, the timing couldn’t be worse, could it?” She laughs, and her slender arms wrap around my stomach. I wrap my arms around her back as I take in her scent. She smells like berries mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke. I pull back from her.
“Come on, Jenna. I thought you were done with that?” I say, disappointed. She’s been cigarette-free for the past three months after my guilt tripping and nagging. I blame my mom being diagnosed with cancer for that.
“I pretty much earned a smoke after yesterday, and it wasn’t that many,” she says, defending herself. I can’t argue with that. The doorbell rings again, and again, and then there’s frantic knocking.
“Who the hell is that?” Jenna asks.
“I don’t know.” My parents have keys, and Lisa would come through the back of the house.
“Let me get the door,” I say. I feel relieved. She’s mad, but she’s still with me.
I open the door, and see a woman retreating down the stairs.
“Can I help you?” I ask. She sort of stumbles over her own feet and grabs the railing. I instinctively step forward. Maybe she’s disoriented. She says something, but she’s facing the opposite way. Her voice is light, and I can barely hear her. She turns around, and her eyes lock onto mine.
They’re bright, hazel, and almond-shaped. Her stare is ethereal, haunting, and won’t let go of me. They make me feel like I’ve seen her before, or known her forever but that’s impossible. She’s not someone I’d forget, too beautiful to be forgotten.
Maybe I saw her in a movie, or she was in a show I used to watch when I was a kid. She’s grown up, and that’s why I can't place her. That has to be it. Maybe she’s an actress whose car stopped in our little town and she needs her tire changed or something. But none of that explains why she’s crying. And now touching my face, and I’m frozen, stuck in place. I can’t move. I’m telling my feet to step backwards but they won’t budge.
“It’s you,” she says, throwing her arms around me. The wind blows her long dark hair in my face. I steal another glance at her and even though she’s crying, her face is lit up with recognition. She knows me, or thinks she does. I'm getting more freaked out by the minute. She’s holding me so tight I can feel her heart beat. It’s almost stampeding through her chest. Hell, maybe it’s mine. This random, albeit beautiful woman is crying and hugging me while my fiancé is less than a few feet away, and I can’t move. The worst part is that my brain isn’t connecting with my body because my arms are moving to hug her—well, they’re trying to, but that sure as hell isn’t happening!
I’m all for helping a woman in distress, but if Jenna finds me out here hugging this girl, especially after yesterday, I’m screwed. But it’s taking so much to stop them. I’m literally shaking, or maybe her shaking is causing me to shake. Before I can open my mouth to ask who she is, I hear footsteps behind me.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Hazel Eyes says, squeezing me tighter.
“Chris, who is this?” Jenna’s voice sends a chill up my spine, and the girl lets me go. She looks up at me, confusion replacing the previous euphoria on her face.
“Chris?”
She steps away from me, her attention turning to Jenna.
“Chris? His name isn’t Chris!” Her voice is sharp and a little terrifying. Her gaze is directed back at me, the vulnerable exterior she previously had is gone. Now there’s fire behind her eyes. Jenna walks closer to us, surprisingly calmer than I thought she would be.
“I—I don't know!” I answer quickly. I’m trying to move again but my freakin’ body isn’t working. I can’t move away from this girl.
“Who am I? Who are you?” she asks, her voice raising an octave and a second later, with the look she gives me, I swear she’s about to throw a right hook my way. I’m starting to think this woman, with eyes like an angel, no taller than maybe 5’3”, could be out of her mind crazy, and my damn feet won’t let me get away from her.
“What!” she shouts angrily, but the disbelief in her voice and despair in her eyes makes my heart break. I don’t know who she thinks I am, but if it’d take away the hurt in her eyes, I’d be whoever she wants me to be.
What is wrong with me?
“I think you have me confused with someone else,” I tell her hesitantly. I turn to Jenna. The calmness I was surprised by earlier is suddenly replaced with the anger I expected.