Tears threatened to form, but I held them down. I was keenly aware of his hand, placed lightly on my lower back and of his intoxicating smell as he pulled me into a hug.

"I'll be back, Cam. I promise you, no need to worry. It's only two weeks, then I'll be back and we can be together," twenty-three year old Zachary Good promised me as we stood in my drive way. He had a smile played out on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes were filled with sorrow.

"Okay," I said warily, pulling back from the hug and going up on my toes so I could place a gentle kiss on his lips. "Call me; I'll be waiting for you."

"I will." He tucked my hair behind my ear.

"Be safe," I instructed.

He smiled a sad smile.

"I love you," I said gently. Something flashed in his eyes, I think it was pain, maybe regret, but it was too quick to tell and it was quickly gone.

"I know," he said softly, "I love you too." He then abruptly turned and walked to his car. Quickly, he threw it into drive and pulled out of the driveway. Not once looking back. I like to think that I knew then, that I saw it coming, but honestly, I had no clue. I like to think that I knew, because it makes me sound like less of a victim. It makes it sound like I didn't go through months of pain and crying when he never came back for me. It makes it sound like I was prepared for what was to come; but I wasn't. I was just a girl desperately in love.

"Honey, wake up, we'll be late," I heard a gentle voice coo at the same time I felt someone rubbing my back. Hesitantly and slowly, I opened one eye, letting them adjust to the light pouring in through the open curtains. Josh, my fiancé, sat down next to me on the bed. His spare key to my apartment dangled from the key chain that he was twisting around on his pointer finger. He was wearing shorts, a shirt and sneakers; his normal summer outfit. His hair was damp from a recent shower and his blue eyes sparkled as they looked down on me.

"I'm up," I said, sitting up and stretching. He took a good look at my face and his eyes widened.

"Are you crying?" he asked, his hand reaching up to wipe the tears that I realized were dripping down my cheeks.

"I guess I just had a bad dream," I mumbled, realizing it was true. I had, had a bad dream; more like a memory, though. A horrible memory in the form of a nightmare. It shocked me, because I hadn't had that dream in over a year. I stopped having that haunting nightmare ever since Josh had proposed.

"What about?" he asked, pulling me into a hug.

"I don't remember," I lied, hugging him back and immediately feeling better. I had to lie to Josh, because I had never told anyone about Zach, but my three best friends in the whole world and my mom. And I wasn't planning on telling him, ever. It was just too hard of a subject to bring up, no matter how much he deserved to know.

"Well, if you get up and walk around, maybe you'll be able to remember," he said, helping me up off the bed. "Shower up and meet me downstairs at the café," he directed, smiling at me and giving me a kiss on the lips. Once the door shut behind him, I walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower water and stepped in. The shower immediately soaked my hair through.

I am twenty-eight years old, I live in rainy Chicago and my name is Cameron Morgan. I have been dating Josh Abrams for the last three years and we have been engaged for the past year. Two of my best friends in the whole world lived about a block down, and the other; Bex, lived with me. Below my apartment, there was a bakery that I started at the age of twenty-five. Bex is my partner in the business. I like to think of my bakery as "famous" in Chicago, because that makes me happy, and not to gloat or anything, but it is. Famous, I mean. Everyday, I get about a couple hundred people. It's not that big or anything; it's a small building. I could move buildings if I wanted to, but it's my baby, the one I started off in, and I couldn't leave it behind. My life was looking good; I had a great fiancé, great friends close by, a job I loved and a nice apartment. As I stepped out of the shower, I put that horrible dream behind me and looked forward to a great week, or what I thought was going to be one.