"David, I don't remember. I'm sorry."
"Holly," he smiled that kind gentle smile that always calmed her nerves when she knew her memory took a decline again. "It's okay, don't worry about."
Holly stood up, on the brink of tears. Ever since the accident guilt had leeched on her soul. Had she driven her daughter ways, had she been the one to kill Robert, had she…?
"I can't do this. I'm running people lives. I don't know who my friends are, or my family." With that she turned and closed herself in the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed wondering what was going to happen to her. All she has been hearing lately is that she was a wonderful woman, that they had been close friends; she didn't know what to believe. The tears ran down her face, and she didn't try to stop them. The warm salt tears or grief and a guilty conscious, almost seemed to drive grooves in her face.
Holly, wiped her eyes, and pulled out the old pictures, hoping that these will pull her out of her dark times again. There was the picture David had taken of her when she was so young, so innocent. Then in the bottom, was a photograph of William, William Walker, and her tears stopped.
'I need you William," she mumbled, "why did you leave me." She knew that he dead, but that only made her cry harder. She wondered what Nora was doing; she was the one that kept them apart for all those years. Nora was the one who stopped her from being a wife of twenty years and just the mistress of twenty years; but she played the game, what else could she do?
William had kept her steady, and ready for whatever life gave her. She had become like his best friend, the one person he could always talk to. When he and Nora fought, he came to her. When he needed business advice, he came to her. He came to her for so many things, she almost started believe they were married, only to be reminded a few hours before ten when he left her house to back home, to his family.
With that thought, she had started to weep again. The tears flowed, and flowed. The Memories came back, and went like a tortuous roller. She just fell back on the bed, and cuddled up with the pillow that smelled like the masculine scent of David, and cried herself, into unconsciousness. There she dreamed of faceless people and people without names and there she was truly happy. She had reached her own version of happiness, not matter how vague it seemed, or possibly insane. She didn't care anymore, all she wanted peace and quiet time. No more static of feign compliments, and names of people she couldn't match the face to.
All she did was dream of William for the rest of the day, only waking to a place empty of his presence. The tears she had cried had dried making her face stiff, but then she smiled. She was at peace now, in her own little paradise.
"Thank you," she said to the heavens, as if William had given her hope once again in her dark life.