Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…
Epilogue
I spent a week in the hospital before being sent home. The doctors had all sorts of fun repeating test after test on me. It seems as if I had some really unusual brain activity while I was in a coma. Highly irregular brain activity as the doctor described it.
I didn't feel entirely comfortable sharing with the doctors what I thought might explain the activity. Instead, I just let them poke, prod and hook me up to every machine they had. They were never able to repeat the results of previous tests. And hopefully, I'll never have to repeat the whatever it was that I went through. It seemed entirely too real to be a dream, but I know there's no real explanation for what I think I experienced.
I never saw the Sara doppelganger that spent the night with me again. I suppose that hitting my head on the bathtub and ending up unconscious was more than she really wanted to deal with after a less than lackluster sexual experience. At least she had the good sense to call 911 before she left that day.
Two weeks after I returned home, I received a post card—from Sara. It was postmarked from San Francisco and it simply said, "I miss you." It was more than I had received in the previous two months. I took that as a good sign.
I considered going to San Francisco several times to find her—to plead with her to come home—to come back to me. But I never did. As loathe as I was to admit it, she needed that space and distance to find herself again. As desperately as I wanted her with me, I wanted her whole more than anything else.
Every two weeks for the next six months, I received a similar card always with the same postmark. She only ever used two sentiments—'I love you' or 'I miss you.' They showed up every two weeks until today.
My heart sank when I took the mail out of the box and found no card from her. It was like losing her all over again. At least I knew she was still alive as long as I was receiving the post cards. I sat and wept like I had the first time she had left. Only this time it felt final.
When I heard the front door open, I wiped my eyes and turned around expecting to see Lindsey home from school. I didn't want her to see me upset. She had long ago quit asking about Sara and I never told her about the postcards.
Instead of Lindsey, there stood Sara. She was tan and had put on some weight. Her hair was shorter and for the first time ever, she was wearing shorts and flip flops.
I sprang to my feet and had to force myself not to run into her arms.
She walked toward me slowly, but deliberately, stopping short of coming into physical contact with me.
I needed to do something with my hands to keep from clutching at her, so I slid them into my back pockets. "I didn't get a post card today."
"I know. I'm sorry about that," she said as she closed the remaining distance and drew me into her arms. "I thought you might prefer to have me tell you in person how much I missed you and how much I love you instead of reading it on some postcard."
"Do you mean…" I couldn't even finish my question—the disappointment being too much for me to bear if this was to be short-lived.
"I came back to you, Cath. You're the only home I've ever known. The past can't keep me from my future."
A/N: Immi wouldn't allow me to leave the story the way I had intended to leave it. And since she wanted a happy ending, I thought I'd give her one. Now, if only I could get her to finish Starfall and I Already Knew.