This is quite an emotional chapter as Paige finds out more about herself in this chapter than any of the previous ones. Sorry for the wait.
Thank you for being so patient with this. I know some of you feel this is slow-paced but rest assured that I'm trying my best to keep things flowing in a steady pace. Thanks for reading and for all the feedback! I hope you enjoy this one. :)
Emily walks around the Chelsea Flower Market, carefully maneuvering herself through throngs of people. She has been visiting the market at different times in the morning for almost a week now, not really buying anything, just window shopping. Today, she plans to finally talk to shop owners about the flowers she wants to buy and the arrangements she has in mind.
At 8AM, Emily is fresh from her work-out and her mind is brimming with flower combinations, color palettes, and different scents and hues. The past week has been all about making preparations. Specifically, preparations for an apology she doesn't even know how to do yet. All she knows is she needs to find the perfect bouquet to say I'm-sorry-for-kissing-you-on-the-forehead-that-was-really-inappropriate.
After that incident, Emily has avoided any contact with both Sadie and Paige and practically the rest of the world. The only contact she's had with anyone she knows is a text or two to the liars just to show them she's still alive and safe. She feels too guilty for letting go of herself during that one moment that she's scared everyone will find out what she had done the minute they see her. There's a fine line between loving from afar and stealing someone's girlfriend. Emily doesn't want to cross that line, although she feels like she already has.
A bucket of sunflowers catches her eye. She fingers the bright yellow petals and buries her nose in the center, the scent reminding her of a warm summer day spent by the pool. The sun, seemingly showing off its fiery blaze, stings Emily's skin but she doesn't mind. She is preoccupied with the world's most inexpensive masterpieces, too preoccupied to see Toby watching her from across the street.
"Emily? What are you doing here?" Emily turns away from the sunflowers to see Toby walking toward her, arms outstretched for a hug.
"Toby! Hi!" The old friends hug each other in the midst of all the hustle and bustle in the market.
"I'm just looking around. I'd grow flowers if I could but, you know.." Emily pulls away from Toby and gives him a thumbs up. "No green thumb here."
Toby laughs. "I never knew you liked going to the flower market. If I knew, I would have brought you along everytime I got Spencer something."
"You obviously did great alone all these years." Emily says, pleased with herself for being able to hide her real intentions for being here.
"Yeah but imagine all the bonding moments we missed." Toby grins at Emily.
"So, let me guess what color theme you're getting Spencer this year. Purple last year and red the year before that. You did yellow too, right? And green, blue, orange.. What haven't you done?"
"Uh, black?"
"Who would want to receive black flowers, Toby?" Emily peers over her shoulder as Toby immediately replaces the grin on his face with a puzzled look. "Oh my god! You're serious, aren't you?!"
"W-why no-"
"You can't give your girlfriend a black bouquet for your anniversary!" Emily crosses her arms and frowns at Toby.
"It's not such a bad idea.." Toby scratches the back of his head, trying to find a way out of the mess he just got himself in.
"Yeah, it's not. For a death anniversary." Emily rolls her eyes. "There aren't even real black flowers. Just very deep purples and reds."
"That's why I'm looking for white flowers which I'm putting in water with black dye for the next 2-3 days."
"Wait, wait, WAIT!" Emily faces Toby and raises both her hands out, stopping him in his tracks. "You're really giving Spencer black flowers?!"
She can't let Toby go through with this unless he wants a problem on his hands and Angry Spencer is definitely a problem. Here she is, spending an entire week trying to create the perfect apology bouquet to give a girl who isn't even her girlfriend, while Toby is planning to ruin his anniversary with a black bouquet.
Toby lets out a sigh. "If I tell you why, will you promise not to tell Spencer? She'll kill me." Emily nods. "The past few weeks, Spencer's been reading, or more like devouring, this book series about a gothic princess and the steam punk prince from another world that she's destined to be with. The black flowers are a symbol of their love throughout the books and on their wedding day, everything is white except for the bridal bouquet."
"Which is black?"
"Exactly. Please don't tell Spencer I told you. It's a series for young adults and she's too embarrassed to let anyone know. I only found out about it because I came home earlier than expected one night." Toby whispers. "I saw her crying because of the book."
"Spencer reads The Gothic Punk Series?" Emily says out loud, baffled by Toby's confession.
"She says it relaxes her because it's an easy read. Please just don't tell her I said anything!" Toby pleads.
Emily stifles a laugh. "Alright. I'll pretend I have no idea. I'll even act disappointed and irritated when she tells us about her black bouquet."
"Thank you!" Toby hugs Emily and pulls her down the street. "Hey, I see a bunch of white flowers over there!"
Emily and Toby spend the morning picking out white flowers for Spencer's bouquet – roses, dahlias, and peonies.
"I need one last thing. Two, actually. Lilies." Toby says as he juggles all the flowers in his hands.
"Spencer always says her favourites are the Oriental ones." Emily takes the ponies and dahlias from Toby as he browses through the lilies and takes the ones he likes.
"I got Peruvian ones too." Toby relieves Emily of the bundles. "They're smaller but I like them better. They seem like shy little flowers in comparison to the big Oriental ones. That should provide a nice balance to it. What do you think?"
"Those are perfect." Emily smiles.
"So, can I drive you somewhere?" Toby asks her as he places the flowers at the back of his truck.
"You can drive me by George's house if you're passing through there."
"Hop in. It's not exactly on the way but it's near enough. Besides, you know I'd drop you off even if it's on the other side of the city." Toby smiles. "Just for the company."
"Thanks." Emily gets in the passenger seat and Toby starts up the engine. "Won't Spencer see those?"
"I have a job in Brooklyn and I'm keeping the flowers there. That's where I'm going, actually. The owner of the house is a retired florist and is helping me dye them black. He's also arranging them for me afterwards."
Toby hasn't even left his parking space when "So What" blasts from his stereo. He quickly changes the radio station.
"Sorry, I like listening to 90's music."
"It's okay, Toby." Emily changes the station back and bops her head to Pink, silently reliving her first date with Paige.
As soon as they get to a red stoplight, Toby looks straight at Emily and makes an observation. "I see you're doing well."
"I'm doing better." Emily says. "Sort of."
"That's good."
A few songs later and an usually long moment of silence, Emily finally says something. "She's alive, Toby."
Toby doesn't even blink. "I know. I'll let you in on a little secret." Toby lowers his voice down into a whisper. "Caleb, Ezra, and me. Our girlfriends keep us in the loop. Not just on you. But on everyone else too. I know all about Hanna's recent dress crisis and that Aria's stuck on chapter 5 of her new book. I also know about, well, that."
"That's nice." Emily manages to smile a little. "I just.. I'm so pathetic."
Toby parks the truck on the side of the street. Emily, shaking as a single tear joins another and another to form a steady stream flows from her eyes, allows Toby to envelop her as she cries into his shoulder.
"She's with Sadie now, Toby, and I-" Emily chokes. "I don't know what to do."
"There's a reason she turned Sadie down the first time. And my guess is it's because Sadie isn't you. She'll realize that soon enough and come back to you, Em." Toby hugs Emily tighter, rubbing her back as she tries to stop crying long enough to reply.
"T-That's the thing. She doesn't remember." Emily sobs. "She doesn't remember any of it. Sh-She.. She doesn't remember me."
"That's something Spencer forgot to mention." Toby says, confused.
"I haven't told anyone yet. Y-you're the first one I told."
Toby hands Emily his handkerchief. "Em.. If Paige proposed, what would make you say no?"
"W-what?"
"What would make you reject her proposal?" Toby lets go of Emily and holds her at an arm's length.
"There's no reason not to accept it except of course, if I found out that she's not happy with me. In which case, why would she even propose in the first place?" Emily says, using Toby's handkerchief to wipe her tears away.
"Exactly. A relationship only ends when one of the people in it is unhappy. Why would Sadie propose if she wasn't happy with Paige?"
"Are you saying she's not happy with Sadie so she turned down the proposal?"
"I'm not saying she was entirely unhappy. Maybe she was but not enough to want to get married. What I know is this - she wasn't as happy as she was with you. She may not remember it, Em, but somehow, she felt it."
"What are you saying?" Emily probes, wanting so much to believe everything Toby is saying but finding it difficult to do so.
"Memories aren't just composed of what you can actually recall, Em. They're made up of all our senses. There's a reason the sense of smell is more powerful a memory trigger than sight."
"Spencer would say there's a scientific reason for that."
"She would and I have no doubt there is. But I also know that unless you rely on your sense of smell, like a blind person for example, you don't usually pay much attention to scents and odours. I believe people only associate scent with memories that they felt at that time, consciously or subconsciously, was significant to them in some way. And Em, you were the most important person in her life."
"That's the thing. You just said it. Were. I was the most important thing in her life. I'm not anymore." Emily can feel pressure building up again at the back of her eyes.
"Emily, she could be happily married for 2 years by now. She isn't. She doesn't know it yet but I have a feeling you still are the most important person in her life."
Toby doesn't wait for Emily to respond. He starts the truck back up and drives her to George's house without saying anything more. Emily, busy digesting their conversation, doesn't mind the silence. She dabs at her eyes every now and then.
"Hey, flowers always work. Do you remember the flowers she got you?" Toby says, breaking the silence as they near George's house.
"Yeah. They were always so bright and colorful. Always so happy. She could have had a career in flower arrangement." Emily says, regretting the fact that she never got Paige flowers but makes a promise to herself to change that as soon as she gets the chance.
"She excelled in you, in everything that had to do with you." Toby takes Emily's hand and gives it a squeeze.
"Thanks Toby. Please don't tell anyone yet. I want to tell them myself." Toby nods in agreement and Emily pulls him in for a goodbye hug.
"Don't worry, Emily. I know based on experience, and I mean this on a very platonic way, how hard it is to resist your charms." He says, making Emily laugh.
"Spencer is really brushing off on you, you know." Emily smiles weakly. "In a good way. Not in a coffee-crazed-Spencer way." She adds before getting out of the passenger seat.
Paige wakes up, shaking her head, totally confused. Her mind still in a haze, she tries to recall as much of her dream as she can. This feels more like her other recurrent dreams. The only difference is it's something she never dreamt of before.
She pulls the white translucent curtains to the side, revealing a city barely awake but already preparing itself for the daily grind of its inhabitants. Paige opens her window and breathes in the freshest smoke-free air the morning can offer, helping her focus on her dream.
Paige opens the door to find Emily crying on her bed, watching a video and surrounded by piles of used tissue.
"I'm sorry. Your mom let me in." She apologizes as soon as she realizes that she's interrupting something.
Emily gapes at her, feeling slightly ashamed and guilty. Paige slowly moves closer as if asking for permission to approach while Emily watches and waits for her, a silent invitation. Paige understands the unspoken language they speak and she sits herself on Emily's bed, assuring the other girl that everything is alright.
"I'm sorry. This isn't the way I wanted tonight to go. I shouldn't have put this all on you." Paige listens as Emily explains the cause of her sadness. "I just found out about the website and this was the first time hearing her voice."
Paige places her hand on Emily's feet, letting Emily know that she understands completely. "My grandfather passed away when I was 15. He had this outrageous sense of humor. I mean, he would do anything for a laugh."
Paige smiles as she fondly recalls her grandfather's memory. Emily, relieved that Paige isn't even the least bit anxious after seeing her girlfriend cry over an ex, can't help but smile as well.
"Last Spring, my mom was cleaning out the basement.." Paige swallows, getting a bit emotional. "..and she found this old home video. My dad had bought her a camcorder for Christmas and everyone was passing it around and being silly.."
"And by the time it got to my Grandpa Allan.." Paige inhales deeply, trying not to laugh before she finishes her story. "..he just mooned the camera!"
Paige, unable to hold it any longer, laughs at her last syllable as her girlfriend laughs with her.
"We're talking 70 year old man butt. Full frame. And there was a tattoo."
"Oh my god. Stop." Emily says as Paige giggles in front of her.
"It was a tulip." Paige manages to say, making both girls burst into laughter.
"That's amazing." Emily says, still smiling.
"And then he just burst out laughing. The sound.. It was like he was in the room.." Paige continues as Emily watches her. "Kind spooky actually but also really good."
Paige thinks to herself for a second and then moves to Emily's side. She puts her arm around Emily and pulls her closer, brushing hair away from the girl's eyes.
"I don't want it to keep hurting." Emily sighs as she leans into Paige's form.
Paige, feeling Emily's pain and knowing there's nothing she can say to make things better, kisses the top of Emily's head, if only to convey how much she loves her.
Paige breathes in again, air with a trail of smoke from what little traffic occurs at this time, still aware of all the residual feelings from her dream. Who died? Who was the long haired girl in the video? It must be someone close to Emily, right? Paige thinks to herself.
She temporarily pushes these questions out of her mind in favor of a morning run on her treadmill. Only 30 minutes into her workout, she slams her hand on the machine's stop button. She steps off and growls in frustration. Why do I feel like this?
"What is this?!" Paige shouts even though she already has an idea what it could be.
"But I have no right." She says as she resigns herself to the couch.
Paige looks at her cell phone, secretly hoping she didn't erase every record she had of that unknown number. Not that she would have the courage to text or call if it's still there anyway. Deciding she needs an effective distraction, she calls her best friend instead.
"I'm feeling something I shouldn't be feeling."
"Did a guy turn you on?"
"That would be easier." Paige sighs.
"I never thought I'd hear you say that." Angel chuckles. "Out with it."
"New dream. I walked into her room and she was crying over this girl who died. I told her a story about my grandfather to make her feel better and I think I did and I was glad that I did. But then I woke up and there's this nagging feeling that I'm still feeling right now."
"And that feeling is…?"
"I want to know who she was crying over." Paige whines.
"You can always just ask her although it's kind of impolite. Besides, following your logic, this hasn't even happened yet. Why can't you have dreams about tomorrow's winning lottery ticket?"
"Because life would be so easy if it worked that way. I hate this feeling, Angel. It's like I want to claw that girl's eyes out!"
"WOW, babe! I have never seen – or in this case, heard – you this jealous."
"W-what? I'm not! I'm no-" Paige stammers, uselessly denying what she already knows.
"Yeah, sure, you're not. That explains how you managed to become so defensive in the past, what, 2 seconds?" Angel interjects.
"Can you stop teasing me for a minute and focus?!"
"That is what I'm doing!"
Paige sighs in defeat. "Fine! Okay, I'm jealous. So what? Big deal. It's not like I've never felt this way before."
"Do I need to spell it out for you, love?"
"I get it. I'm jealous. Hooray." Paige says stoically.
"Earth to Paige? In case you haven't noticed, people get jealous because someone they at least like, and not someone they claim to hate, is into someone else." Angel points out.
"I doubt that's the only reason to be jealous, Angel."
"Well, can you honestly tell me you have a different reason?" Paige doesn't say anything. "Aaaaand there we have it, ladies and gentlemen! See you again next week iiiiiin My Best friend is In-Love with an Emotionally Unstable Stranger!"
"You'd make a terrible producer." Paige comments. "And I'm not in-love with her."
"You know.."
"Before you give me another crazy suggestio-"
"You like her. You love her. Who cares what you feel exactly? The point is, you obviously feel something for her!"
"I don't trust her, Angel. Last I checked, trust is a big thing. And no-"
"Why are you fighting this, love?" Angel interrupts again.
"Stop doing that! Stop interrupting me. I don't trust her. And I don't care what you say but nothing can ever be built without trust."
"Fine. I will let this rest. For now. Anyway, I would love to see your Grandpa Allan's tattoo."
"That comes with a 70 year old man butt." Paige says without thinking.
"Hey, didn't you say he died when you were 15?"
"That's what I dreamt of, yeah."
"So somewhere in the future, your mom finally tells you about your past. That's a good thing, right?"
"I hope it happens soon. I don't know how much longer I can live knowing nothing and at the same time, having someone from my past prance around in my work place."
"I doubt Emily's going to be at George's place again later. Or maybe she's using it as an excuse to see you, hmm?" Angel teases. "Better prepare your forehead."
"I thought you said you were dropping that for now." Paige scolds her. "Anyway, I have to go. I'm doing some last minute shopping. Cross your fingers I don't see her today."
As soon as Emily gets Sophia down for her afternoon nap, she does a quick conference call with her friends. Ideally, she should be talking to them about this in person but George warned her that Paige is working on Sophia's room again. Knowing this, Emily decides to tell the liars everything before Paige arrives. After that talk with Toby, she has decided to tell Paige about their past, Sadie or no Sadie. For this, she needs all the support she can get from her friends. Emily is sure they can deal with the shock of Paige's amnesia later.
"Why can't we come over again?" Hanna asks impatiently.
"Because I'm babysitting Sophia. I need to talk to you guys about something." Emily responds.
"Em, this doesn't have anything to do with Paige, does it? Isn't she working on George's house? Is she there?" Aria's whisper doesn't hide the worry in her voice.
"She will be. That's why I needed to talk to you. I told Sadie about us.. About me and.." Emily's voice cracks as she tries to pull herself together.
"Wait, there's something extremely fishy going on here. How can Sadie not know that you were Paige's ex-girlfriend?"
"Not everyone gives their boyfriends, or girlfriends, the 3rd degree, Hanna." Spencer retorts.
"I'm serious. Paige didn't even mention you in passing?" Hanna insists.
"Hanna, Sadie thought Emily's ex-girlfriend was dead. Even if Paige mentioned Emily, she would have thought it was a different Emily." Spencer explains.
"Actually, that was what I wanted to talk to you guys about." Emily interrupts the start of what can only be another bickering match between Hanna and Spencer. "Spencer has a point but the thing is, they never talked about Paige's past. There wasn't anything to talk about."
"What do you mean there wasn't anything to talk about? Years of being together isn't nothing, Em." Aria laughs nervously.
"It is." Emily tries in vain to hide the quivering in her voice. "It is when she doesn't remember anything."
Dead silence. The silence is deafening, so much so that when Spencer clears her throat, the sound seems so loud, it makes Emily jump.
"She has amnesia?" Spencer, the first to react out of the 3 girls, squeaks.
"What does she remember then?" Aria asks.
"Nothing before the accident." Emily states in a dry manner that makes her sound like she's reading from a pamphlet.
"She doesn't remember us?!" Hanna says a little too loudly. "She doesn't remember you?! That's outrageous!"
"Han.." Emily's voice trails off.
"This all makes sense." Spencer says all of a sudden, her words gaining speed as she connects the dots. "She hit her head on a rock. There's brain trauma. Then she drowned. There's hypoxia. She was unconscious and.. It just.. It all makes sense. Why didn't I see this before?"
"Because we thought she was dead!" Hanna repeats.
"Emily, are you sure about this? You've talked to her?" Aria turns her attention to Emily, ignoring the other two.
"I have. She really doesn't remember anything.. She doesn't remember me." Emily keeps talking, knowing that if she stops, nothing will come out of her mouth other than sobs. "I wanted to talk to you guys because she's coming over in a bit to work on Sophia's room and.. and I plan on telling her about us."
"Didn't you text me a novel the other day about how she and Sadie were giving it another go? And I even cursed Sadie for being so callous? I mean, you did just tell her that McCullers was your dead ex-girlfriend." Hanna points out.
Aria and Spencer gasps at the same time.
"Yeah. I don't plan on destroying what they have. I just want to be friends with her. How can I do that if I don't even explain why I've been so angry towards her since we met? I at least have to say sorry for that, right?"
"I know where you're coming from, Em. But I feel like this is a bad idea. She might not be ready to hear the truth yet. I think it's better to wait for her to come to you." Spencer speaks up.
"Spence, she's avoiding me. After how I've been acting, I'd avoid myself too. If I wait for her, she might never find out about the truth and we can never even be friends."
"What really gets to me is how Sadie can even rekindle an old flame when she already knows who Paige is to you. That's such a –" Hanna points out her observation.
"I totally agree with Hanna." Spencer interjects. "But Han, we'll deal with that later."
"Guys, I think Emily should go for it. I mean, why not? Everything starts with trust. So the first thing Em needs is for Paige to trust her again. Telling the truth is always a good start." Aria reasons out.
"Thanks, Aria." Emily says, as the doorbell rings. "I have to go. She's here."
Emily finishes her call and looks at her reflection as she passes by a mirror in the hallway. She smoothens hair on top of her head, checks to see her eyes aren't red and puffy, and flashes a perfect smile at the mirror for practice. When she opens the door, a teary-eyed Paige greets her.
"A-are you okay?" Emily asks, her smile disappearing from her face, instantly worried.
Paige backs away a little and eyes the house. "This is George's house, right? Do you live here now?" She replies, as she gingerly wipes her eyes, making nothing of it.
"Cynthia's sick so I'm babysitting Sophia." Emily says to a dishevelled Paige. "She's in George's room. Afternoon nap."
"Yeah, okay." Paige quickly looks away and pushes past Emily, not in the mood for a conversation.
Paige can't help but curse her luck. Once again, she's left alone in the company of the unstable-ticking-time-bomb. She makes her way towards Sophia's room, leaving Emily standing in the doorway.
"I really need to talk to you." Emily starts before Paige has cleared the stairs.
"I'm kind of busy right now." Paige replies, not even looking at the other girl.
"I know. It's.. It's something important." Emily insists, following Paige into Sophia's room. "There's something you need to know about.. about me."
By now, Paige is actively ignoring Emily, doing just about anything to not talk to the girl. Emily, seeing how agitated Paige seems to have become, tries to calm her down by allowing her to keep working.
"You don't have to stop working. I just need you to hear me out. I know you're with Sadie right now. I guess, um, second time's a charm? There's ju-"
"I'm not with Sadie." Paige corrects her.
"B-but yesterday morning.. Y-you were.. She was.." Emily stammers, caught between embarrassment at having assumed and giddiness at knowing Paige is apparently single.
Paige, obviously pissed, turns around and walks over to Emily, eyes glaring at the swimmer and daring her to say more. "Yeah, you saw what you saw. But did you ever bother to listen to any explanation someone has to give? Or are you programmed to run away every time you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable?"
Emily, although totally intimidated by Paige's sudden attack, stands her ground, remembering that any sign of fear only gets Paige even more riled up. The elation she's feeling at hearing that Sadie and Paige aren't a couple gives her the courage to speak.
"T-that's good then. That you and Sadie aren't together." Emily clears her throat. "As I was saying, I wanted to tell you that, um.."
"Can't this wait?" Paige asks impatiently, getting more infuriated by the minute. "What is so important that you can't even wait for me to finish working?"
"We went to high school together. We were team mates since freshman year but we only became friends during our junior year." Emily blurts out, thinking Paige will mellow down once she hears what the swimmer has to say.
"What are you saying? I'm working! I don't have the time for this!" Paige walks back to the area she's working on, unwilling to listen to anything else the olive-skinned beauty has to say.
Emily, utterly silent and not knowing what to do, racks her brain, thinking of something else to say to appease Paige who is only getting angrier as more time passes. What she ends up blurting out, something entirely different from what she originally planned on saying, stuns both of them in silence.
"Paige, I love you!"
Paige immediately stops what she is doing but doesn't turn around. Emily immediately covers her mouth with both her hands, only now realizing what she just said and not wanting to say anything more. It's the first time she's said Paige's name to her face and it feels exhilarating to know that the other girl heard her, that the Paige she's talking to isn't imaginary or just in her head or in her dreams, and that Paige can actually answer to her name.
When Paige doesn't react, Emily forces her feet to move closer to where the other girl is standing. "I – I told Sadie I met someone. And that was you. I never thought I'd see you again but I did."
Paige starts working briskly, ignoring Emily who is still explaining herself away. "We were days away from our 5th anniversary when.. whe-"
Paige, now seething with anger, doesn't give Emily a chance to finish her sentence. Instead, she grabs Emily, pushes her against the wall rather forcefully and kisses her on the lips.
Emily shudders as their lips touch and closes her eyes to savour the moment. Despite the smell of old carpet and glue, she can still smell the subtle vanilla teasing her nostrils. Emily has never forgotten the sweet taste of Paige's lips but she has never recalled it being this good. She places her hands on Paige's neck, pulling her closer.
Paige, in spite having initiated the supposed hostile contact, feels her anger washing away with every second the kiss lasts. The peach scent is so strong and pleasant, she could imagine herself drowning in it forever. Paige closes her eyes and once she does, she sees an image of herself in the passenger seat of a car, kissing Emily, much like she is kissing her now. The car, smelling faintly of peaches, obviously belongs to the other girl.
Paige, still tied to the present by Emily's hand caressing her neck, notices a slight difference between the kiss in Sophia's room and the kiss in Emily's car. The former, spiteful in nature and tainted with malice just to prove a point while the latter, considered a wondrous gift because of years and years of anticipation.
When Emily tries to deepen the kiss, Paige immediately pulls away, remembering why she started the kiss in the first place. Her anger quickly returns and consumes her completely, replacing whatever she felt just a few seconds ago.
Having lost the moment, Paige ends the kiss as abruptly as she had started it. "Our 5th anniversary? You're either mistaken or lying. Which one is it?" She says mockingly as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Because I didn't feel a thing."
Emily sinks to the floor, numb and in disbelief over how Paige can further break each piece of her broken heart into another million pieces.
Paige immediately regrets what she did when Emily's sniffling reaches her ears. She lingers by the front door, debating whether to turn around and redeem herself or just leave. She hears Emily moving around upstairs and decides to do the latter, absolutely unprepared to face the girl she wronged.
"Wait." Emily says at the top of the stairs, as she sees Paige opening the front door.
A gentle breeze blows through the already open doorway, making Paige shudder as she pauses at the threshold.
"I'm sorry." Emily whispers.
Paige slips out, both ignoring and feeling ashamed at Emily's apology, closing the door behind her. She gets on her bike and starts pedalling. Slowly at first then progressing to almost maximum speed in the next few minutes. She arrives home in half the time it usually takes. She trudges up the stairs to her apartment, unaware of the wet trail she's leaving with each step.
When did she become so cruel? Paige sits on the sofa along with a six pack from her refrigerator, pondering the question and planning to drown the events of the day with something she likens to herself, bitter.
Her life, and what little she knows of it, feels like it's bursting at the seams. She looks down at her wrists and runs her fingers over the faint white marks, wondering for the hundredth time what kind of accident caused scars that look so much like self-inflicted cuts.
How funny is it that self-harm never crossed her mind in the past four years she can remember and yet, it seems like she's so intent on destroying herself in a totally different manner? In a way that isn't so obvious and direct, in a way more painful than physical wounds, like punishing herself for an unknown injustice. How is it that she can feel all these things all at once and still not be able to identify the cause? How is it that her brain is so frail and so soft, as to allow itself to lock its contents somewhere unreachable? So much so that it leaves them vulnerable to unsolicited modification by anyone who knows of her condition? All of these questions roll around inside her head that with all of her pent up anger and frustration, Paige throws an empty bottle of beer at the brick wall in front of her.
Why do I feel so guilty for not remembering anything? Why do I feel like I'm betraying, not just myself, but also everyone I've forgotten? I am not meant to live like this. No one was meant to live life not knowing who they are. Everyone grows older with the knowledge of past experiences to help them through life and everyone dies with recollections of how they spent their years. All I know is what I've been told. And my stupid dreams of a girl who claims to love me.
Paige lets out a bitter laugh, wondering at what lengths Emily will go through to fool her because she's obviously lying when she professed her love.
"No one loves someone and just abandons them." Paige says out loud, fortifying the core on which she built her beliefs since the accident. "No one loved me enough to look for me, to explain who I was, to help me recover. No one loved me enough to show me the truth."
How ironic. Paige thinks. Everyone is coming to her spewing out their own versions of a history she can't even recognize. How is she going to separate the truth from the lies?
Before Paige can start to guzzle down another bottle of beer, her cell phone buzzes with an incoming text message from a vaguely familiar unknown number. Her finger hovers over the buttons, unsure whether to read the text or just hit delete like the last time. She decides to open the message, wondering what lies Emily has come up with this time.
"I know you don't remember me. It's okay. I promise not to overwhelm you again like that. I probably scared you with what I said. I'm sorry. Anyway, you seemed out of it when you arrived at George's house. Feel better, okay? Anytime you're ready to talk. -Emily"
Stunned, Paige stares at her phone, rereading the message several times. How is it possible for this girl to still want me to feel better after what I just did? Extremely guilt-ridden, Paige replies to Emily's text with nothing more but her address.
As soon as she pushes send, she realizes what she did and tries desperately to stop her text from sending. She covers the top of her phone, throws it against the wall, then holds it underwater for a a full 2 minutes. When she looks at her phone again, she sees that all her attempts were futile.
"FUCK!" Paige shrieks in a panic, cursing her shockproof/waterproof case and herself for replying without even thinking. Would it be impolite if I suddenly text her not to go? Say it wasn't for her or something? Do I really want to add to my list of transgressions against Emily? No, I don't because I will probably have to make up for them one way or another.
Paige, resigned to her fate, quickly zooms around her apartment, cleaning and putting away anything even remotely embarrassing, especially the photo of her and Emily on the fridge. As much as she hates to admit it, she still wants to make a good impression.
Emily, constantly tapping her foot in anticipation, is slouching patiently in George's living room, waiting for a reply that she knows won't come anyway.
She doesn't know how she was able to send Paige a very forgiving text or how she managed to pull herself together after Paige slapped her in the face with that kiss. All she really knows for sure is that she loves her and she would do everything not to lose her again.
When her phone makes a noise, it startles her into sitting up, her back straight as a board. With trembling hands, she operates her phone to read Paige's reply. She sent me her address? Oh my god. She replied with her address! She wants me to come over!
Emily can't hide the huge grin on her face even if she tried. After what just happened a while ago, she thought all chances of being with Paige were next to none. Apparently not.
While waiting for George, Emily fixes herself up. She puts on some lip gloss, fixes her hair, and spritzes on some perfume. George arrives while she's looking at herself in the mirror, once again practicing her casual-but-flirty smile.
"George! Sophia is still sleeping in your room. By the way, no work on Sophia's room today. Some excuse about a family thing. Sorry, I can't stay. I really have to run. Bye, George!"
Emily walks out into broad daylight before George can even react to her perkiness. While in the cab, she constantly fidgets in her seat causing the driver to throw nervous looks her way, slightly disturbed by her behaviour. She can only do so much to not skip on the way up to Paige's apartment, unable to contain her excitement.
As she stands outside Paige's door, she suddenly feels nauseous. Her excitement, having covered up her anxiety, is gone now that she's seconds away from being with Paige. She takes a few deep breaths and wipes her palms on her jeans before she knocks.
It takes a while for Paige to open the door. She doesn't look Emily in the eye and casually moves aside to let her in. Emily suddenly feels foolish for not even bringing anything. Flowers would have been great if you actually bought some this morning. Damn it, Emily. Instead, she greets Paige with a hug to which the tenant awkwardly obliges.
"S-Sorry I didn't bring anything. I was too exci-" Emily stops herself from finishing the word, not wanting to come across as creepy.
"It's okay. Was the place easy to find?" Paige asks, making small talk to help herself get through this situation.
"I took a cab." Emily says, as she enters the apartment.
Emily gazes at Paige's living area, in awe of how Paige can't remember a thing but still subconsciously arrange her place the way she had planned back in high school. This looks almost identical to the dorm room Paige had wanted them both to share but was never able to. Probably the only thing missing is another bed which wouldn't make sense since the interior designer lives here alone.
"You didn't even text me the cab number!" Paige says, forgetting for a minute who she's talking to and letting her worry overcome her.
"Um, sorry?" Emily looks at her, bewildered.
Paige catches herself, and scolds herself internally, as she offers Emily a seat on the sofa. "N-nothing. It's just my thing."
"I didn't know I can still do that. I, um, I mean.." Emily closes her eyes, arranging her thoughts. "It's always been a thing of yours, even back in Rosewood. There were a lot of things happening back then that made you worry a lot. It's okay. I get it. I just didn't think you'd want me to do that still. The only people you ever wanted to text you cab numbers are those you.. care... about.." Emily's voice fades away, feeling like she's revealing too much again.
Paige doesn't pay much heed to what Emily said, dismissing it as a projection. Instead, she prepares coffee. Although she doesn't drink as much coffee anymore, she needs it now to calm her nerves. However, once Emily sees what she's doing, the swimmer immediately walks over and takes the spoon from Paige.
"Let me."
"You don't have to. It's fine. Really." Paige attempts to retrieve the spoon back from Emily but the other girl hides it behind her back and insists on preparing her coffee for her.
"It's okay. Prepare to be blown away, McCullers." Emily smiles smugly, having perfected Paige's preferred coffee drink before they even graduated high school.
"Aren't you smug?"
"Cinnamon and mint?" Emily raises one of her eyebrows, feeling like she outsmarted the brown- haired girl.
Paige, obviously surprised, carefully takes out the ingredients from the cupboard. "How do you know?"
"Believe it or not, I know how to take care of my woman." Paige stares at her, mouth open, in shock. "S-sorry. I mean, um, it comes with the territory." Emily blushes a deep red, not knowing how to recover from what is probably the biggest slip-up of her life.
Emily hands Paige her coffee and walks back to the couch, mentally reminding herself to shut up before Paige throws her out of the apartment for indecency. Paige takes a sip before seating herself on the sofa, forehead scrunching up in suspicion towards the girl sitting on the other end.
"This is actually the best I've ever tasted. Even better than the one I make myself."
Emily can't help but grin from ear to ear. "I told you."
Paige offers the girl a somewhat restricted smile. "Thanks. Do you want anything to drink? Or eat? Uh, beer?" Paige, trying to be hospitable, hands Emily a bottle.
"Sure." Emily accepts the beverage and drinks a little. "Hi, I'm Emily. Emily Catherine Fields. I'm 26 years old. I'm a professional swimmer but I'm sort of on a break right now." Emily holds her hand out for a shake.
"Uh, what are you doing?" Paige asks, unsure what to do.
"Introducing myself? You don't remember me, right? So I'm starting with the basics."
Paige gingerly shakes Emily's hand, forcing herself to not pay attention to how soft Emily's skin feels against hers. "Paige Lia McCullers. Uh, 26. Interior designer."
Emily giggles, feeling silly but remembering that Paige needs this, no matter how senseless it seems. "Nice to meet you, Paige."
"Nice to meet you too."
"I told George you have a family thing, by the way, so you weren't able to work on Sophia's room. Is there anything you want to ask me? Now that we've properly introduced ourselves?"
"Is that something you do often? Lying?" Paige instantly changes the mood in the room from promising to charged.
"E-excuse me?" Emily stutters, hurt by Paige's accusation.
Paige stands up, eyes visibly burning with anger. "I may not remember anything but that doesn't mean you can make up stories about my past!"
"Why would I lie to you?" Emily's voice cracks.
"How would I know? I don't even know you!" Paige stomps off toward the kitchen, depositing her empty coffee cup in the sink with a clatter.
Emily flinches at the sound. "I-I'm sorry. I should just go." She starts walking towards the door.
"Yeah. Just go!" Paige shouts, unable to hide her emotions.
Emily, drawing on her past experiences with Paige, catches the hurt and frustration in the girl's voice and interprets it as a challenge to stay. Instead of leaving, she slowly walks towards Paige.
Emily gently places her hand on Paige's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Why are you so angry at me?"
"Because you're lying to me!" Paige says, brushing Emily's hand off.
"I'm not. Why would you think I am?" Emily insists, desperately wanting Paige to believe her.
Paige, back turned to Emily and facing the window, doesn't say a word. She is busy pushing her tears deep down inside her because she will be damned if she lets Emily see her cry. A minute passes. Two minutes. Emily slides her hand into Paige's and draws light circles into her palm, soothing the girl just like she's done so many times in the past. Three minutes. Four. Five.
"Paige?" Emily whispers.
"You didn't look for me. You never looked for me." Paige says, her voice barely audible. "How can you say you love me when you didn't even look for me?"
Emily doesn't let go of Paige's hand but she takes a step back, not knowing how to form the words to her explanation. How can she tell Paige that she thought the girl was dead without sounding like a lunatic? There has to be a way to make her see that I'm sincere, that I do love her.
"For our first date, you took me to this remote and rustic place. It was at 202 & W Chester Pike, somewhere in Rosewood. You made a funny observation about me liking ballsy women. After dinner, you disappeared and I found you on stage, singing Pink's So What on karaoke."
"So what?" Paige repeats coldly.
"Yeah. So What. Despite my efforts to not get up on stage, you got me to sing along with you anyway. We had so much fun that night and I remem-"
"No! I meant, so what? How do I know you're not lying when I can't remember anything?"
"Okay. Well.." Emily pauses, still tracing random figures in Paige's hand, recalling how much it calms her down. "One time, we had this rodeo da-"
"What are you doing?!" Paige jerks her hand away from Emily.
Emily, not letting Paige push her away, is determined to make Paige see that she's not lying at all. "I'm cycling through memories I have with you. Maybe I can find something you do remember. When I do, that'll prove I'm not lying then you'll have to believe me."
Emily, wanting to stay physically in contact with Paige, tightens her hold on the other girl's hand.
"Why are you doing this?" Paige implores, tears glistening in her eyes.
Emily, wanting so much to utter those three words but scared Paige might get angry again, answers her with indirectly. "Because.. Just let me, okay? Humor me."
"Once, you told me about your Grandpa Allan." Paige's hand stiffens under Emily's, signalling her that she might have just found something Paige actually remembers. "He died when you were 15. Your mom found an old video where he mooned the camera for Christmas. You proceeded to tell me about his man butt and his tulip tattoo. We were laugh-"
"When was this?" Paige asks, panic lacing her voice.
"I'm not so sure. Junior year?"
"I- I have to go."
"Did I say something? Are you okay?"
Paige, instantly focusing on Grandpa Allan and forgetting the fact that the story proves Emily sincerity, grabs her keys and rushes out of her apartment, leaving Emily standing there, not knowing what to do. She races towards her parents' house, hoping to catch them at home and not on one of their date nights. When she sees 2 cars in the driveway, she deposits her bike by the porch and uses her own set of keys to enter the house.
"I want to see Grandpa Allan's home video!" Paige shouts, announcing her arrival as she bursts through the door, already in tears.
"Honey?" Paige's mom appears from second floor, her hands enclosed over her chest, all too aware of her daughter's distressed cries.
Paige, on the floor and on her knees, only now grasping the strength of her subconscious. "My dreams.. They were all memories.."
"What dreams, honey?" Mrs. McCullers kneels beside her daughter and rubs her back for comfort.
"I – I dreamt of Grandpa." Paige looks at her mother. "I want to see Grandpa Allan's video."
"Honey.."
"I want to see his home video!" Paige repeats firmly and as calmly as her voice would allow, feeling devastated at how her mother is still trying to keep her past hidden.
"Paige? Sweetheart? What is all thi-" Mr. McCullers walks out of the kitchen, still wearing an apron.
As soon as Paige sees her father, she runs up to him and clings to his side like a child. "Dad! Dad, I want to see Grandpa Allen's home video!"
Nick shares a knowing look with his wife, as if saying I told you so, before he answers Paige. "Let's get you up to your room, okay?"
"No! I want to see Grandpa Allen's tattoo!" Paige pleads, ignoring the waterfall of tears flowing from her eyes.
"Paige, dear.." Mrs. McCullers gently pulls Paige towards her room.
"There's a box of old home videos in the attic. I'll bring it up to your room when I find it." Paige's father says as he runs his hand through his daughter's hair, assuring her that everything will be okay.
Paige, shoulders shaking under the weight of her world crumbling because of her revelation, goes up to her room obediently. She tries her best to pull what little she knows about herself together by repeating only the facts - facts that are infallible because of a birth certificate, a diploma, an ID. My name is Paige Lia McCullers. I was born on October 15 to Nick and Michelle McCullers. I'm 26 years old. I graduated top of my class in Stanford with a degree in Psychology. I am an interior designer. Paige echoes these sentences in her mind, forcing herself to accept the only things she is sure about herself.
"Nick!" Mrs. McCullers pulls her husband to the side as soon as Paige is out of ear shot.
"We can't do this anymore! She's already met Emily!"
Michelle pulls him into the kitchen where they can talk in private and not have to worry about the possibility of Paige overhearing the conversation.
"Emily hasn't told her anything or she should be questioning us about that right now! She still doesn't know who Emily is and she shouldn't find out! I don't want another repeat o-"
"She is old enough!" Nick raises his voice. "She was just a child then. She is old enough to know not to hurt herself!"
"It's not just that I'm worried about! Emily brings with her all kinds of trouble! Paige was kidnapped and tied up in a cabin, Nick! She could have died! We're in New York! Where will we find her if something like that happens again?!" Michelle argues, entirely unconvinced and very worried for her daughter. "Besides, Emily has a girlfriend!" She hisses.
"They've met already. She should know by now that Emily isn't available. She isn't even showing any romantic interest towards the girl." Nick pulls his wife into his arms. "I don't see any cuts on her arms. She doesn't even remember who Emily used to be in her life and as you said, it doesn't seem like Emily has told her anything. Everything that happened in Rosewood ended when they cleared up who that A was. The man who kidnapped Paige is dead and may I remind who's rumoured to have stabbed him? You and I both know it wasn't Emily's fault. She protected our daughter, Mitch."
"It might not have been Emily's fault but I can't help but think it wouldn't have happened if she was with someone else. And Nick, you know as well as I do that there are other places to cut." Michelle wipes her eyes with a tissue. "When I think of her with Emily, I just keep seeing her in that tub, swimming in her own blood."
"She's my daughter too and I want nothing more than her safety. We will never forget that but we've moved on from it. We can't let Paige keep living like this when she can't even remember that incident." Mr. McCullers hugs his wife tighter. "Don't you think Emily has done a wonderful job being Paige's girlfriend all those years?"
"Nick, I just.. What if Emily breaks her heart? And how do we explain Paige's supposed death?"
"Emily obviously knows Paige is still alive. If she wants to break someone's heart, I doubt it'd be Paige's. It's more likely she wants to break ours for lying about Paige's death but respects us too much to do it. It doesn't matter if Emily has a girlfriend. They're both old enough to handle those kinds of things."
"Emily's girlfriend is Sadie. Sadie, Nick."
"Sadie Diem? The redhead who proposed? Are you sure about that?"
"Yes. I saw them at the New York aquarium just a little while back, holding hands, flirting, and whatever kids do nowadays. How do you think Paige will react when she finds out about everything?"
"Honey, Paige is 26 years old. She's living the life she wants. There's a reason she turned Sadie down and we both know what it is. You know she was never as happy with Sadie as she was with Emily. She's friends with Sadie again and probably knows about their relationship. It's not what she's thinking of right now. Right now, she just wants to know about her grandfather."
"I need more time to think about this." Mrs. McCullers pulls away from her husband.
"Our daughter is in her room, sobbing, because she dreamt of her Grandpa Allan. The only thinking we should be doing is figuring out which one of those boxes in the attic that video is in!"
Mr. McCullers paces around the kitchen, his patience wearing thin. Since the beginning, his wife's plans went against his own beliefs. Lying to their daughter, keeping her past hidden, faking her own death. These were all absurd and farfetched attempts to keep her safe, so farfetched that it might have worked, had Paige never met anyone from her past. It was something he never wanted to be a part of but his wife can be very persuasive and charismatic, and what woman brings out her best when she feels her own brood is threatened?
"I've always been protective of my family. I know I went overboard once. I'm not making excuses for it but after seeing what Ali did to Paige, after seeing her in that tub, I felt like there was no other option but to keep her from being gay. I was so scared that Emily will break her heart and she would start hurting herself again that she almost destroyed herself hiding who she was just to please me." Nick takes a deep breath.
"Emily may not love her the way she used to but the only reason she stopped loving Paige is because she believed she had no other choice. She though our daughter was dead. That is all on us. If Paige will ever have a chance at true happiness, we should start fixing things now, Mitch. Keeping her past hidden from her isn't keeping her safe anymore."
"Emily is the reason Paige lost her memories! She is the reason we had to fake her d-!" Mrs. McCullers shouts at her husband.
"Can you hear yourself?!" Mr. McCullers cuts his wife off and slams his hand on the kitchen table so hard, he can feel the vibrations from the impact travel down to the floor. "You know as much as I do that it was an accident! They had a fight before Paige jumped off the cliff but that doesn't mean that Emily wanted her to get hurt! She got amnesia because of head trauma, not because Emily wanted it to happen! It's time we start acting like Paige's parents! I've let you do this your way this whole time. I can't tolerate it any longer!" Nick's voice booms throughout the kitchen.
Michelle, unmoving by the refrigerator, grips the kitchen counter with her hands. Her husband, previously pacing around the kitchen, puts his arms on his waist, asserting authority. The last time she has seen Nick so angry was when he found out about Nate, the man who kidnapped Paige as ransom for Emily's love.
"I am putting my foot down on this matter. I'll be in the attic looking for that video. You're welcome to join me if you please."
Mr. McCullers storms off, leaving his wife in the kitchen, still conflicted. An hour later and several cups of tea, she reaches into one of the kitchen drawers for a flashlight. She follows her husband into the attic, shining the flashlight into the opening first as a sign of apology.
"I'm still not sure we're doing the right thing. But whatever happens to Paige, we'll be there for her. You're right, Nick, and I'm sorry it had to come to this."
Nick nods at his wife and hands her a couple of cd's to browse. Too bad they weren't able to properly label all of them when they had the videos transferred to cd's or finding Grandpa Allan's mooning would have been a breeze.
After half an hour of searching in the attic, Paige's father enters her room and leaves the video on her bedside table. He covers his sleeping daughter with her comforter, kisses her forehead, and proceeds to walk out of her room. Paige wakes up, catching her father on his way out.
"Dad?"
"Honey.." Nick grabs the video and hands it to Paige. "We had the old videos transferred to cd's a while back. I'm not so sure why Grandpa Allan's sagging butt suddenly seems so interesting to you but I guess butts can tell you so much about a person, right?"
"He has a tulip tattoo, dad. Who doesn't want to see that?" Paige jokes, thankful for her father's effort at cheering her up.
"Paige, your mother and I.." Mr. McCullers looks at Paige apologetically. "I know we didn't exactly handle things perfectly.."
"I never understood why you kept things hidden from me, dad.."
"You may not understand it but we only did it to keep you safe."
At Nick's statement, Paige lashes out, unable to comprehend how hiding her past from her is necessary to keep her safe.
"You didn't want me to know about my past to keep me safe? How dangerous could my life have been, dad, that you can't even tell me anything?" Paige counters.
"I don't expect you to understand right now, honey.." Mr. McCullers moves toward Paige but she moves farther and turns away from him. "Okay, I'll just leave you to the video then."
As soon as her father leaves the room, Paige locks her bedroom door. She leans her back on it for a while, steadying herself and drying her eyes on her sleeve. She closes the curtains to hide the cheerful glare of the sun, not feeling anything remotely as close. Slowly, she walks towards her bedside table and fingers the cd her father left for her. She inserts it into her desktop and watches her Grandpa Allan moon the hell out of her whole family over and over again.
Paige pauses, plays and replays the video countless times, running her finger over people's faces – faces she can't even recognize, remembering the names everyone else used to refer to each other. Grandma Jane, placing a knitted scarf over Grandpa Allan. Colton, her then 1 year old cousin and Aunt Carrie's son, grabs the camcorder and tries to put it in his mouth while his mother shouts in the background. Uncle Louie tells a knock knock joke about Santa and his reindeer. Her mother, still without laugh lines and crow's feet, rolls her eyes at Uncle Louie and hands the camcorder to grandpa. Grandpa Allan, moons the camera instead of taking it and runs around laughing as he tries to get his pants back up. Her mom drops the camera in surprise, both at the mooning incident and the tulip tattoo.
The first few times, Paige finds herself laughing along with the rest of her family, feeling so much joy at finally being able to put faces on a family beyond her parents. She laughs at how Grandpa Allan attempts to swat away his wife's hands, claiming that she's suffocating him again just like she does everyday but kisses her lovingly in gratitude anyway once the scarf is in place. She laughs at Colton and his innocence, his cooing, the way his tongue covers half the screen and leaves a trail of saliva which Aunt Carrie sheepishly wipes off with a tissue. She laughs even at Uncle Louie's lame joke and the way he's so into it, willing the rest of the family to listen. Finally, she laughs at Grandpa Allan, at the way he gives the camera a telling toothless smile before he turns around and instantly drops his pants to expose his butt for all the world to see. She laughs at all the gasps and shouts in the background, at her mother dropping the camera to cover Grandpa's butt, at Grandma Jane's scolding him for being so inappropriate in the dining room but not in the bedroom. She laughs at everything and with everyone, feeling their presence.
But with every push of the replay button, Paige's bitterness at having missed out on so much grows. What happened to all of them the past 4 years? Where are they now?
As Paige watches the video for the nth time, her mother suddenly bursts into the room.
"Mom!" Paige shouts, as she quickly gets up from her seat and brushes away her tears. "What happened to knocking?!"
"I'm sorry, Paige!" Mrs. McCullers says, slightly flustered. "We've been knocking and calling you for 30 minutes. You weren't answering so we.."
"You thought the worst again, mom! I'm in my own room. What could possibly happen here?!" Paige says, raising her voice in frustration. "You always do this! I don't have any pills here, mom! I don't have a gun! I don't have anything I can use to hurt myself! I never understood why you would even think that's something I'm capable of!"
"Because you've done it before, Paige!" Mrs. McCullers shouts at her daughter, paralyzing Paige in shock.
"You were only a few months into freshman year. A few days after joining the swim team, you started talking about this girl and how you wanted to be her friend. You started writing her letters but were always too shy to give them to her. One day, you came home from school after swim practice visibly upset. When you didn't come down for dinner, I went up to check on you. You were in the bathtub, still in your clothes, and.."
Paige's mother chokes on her own words. Paige waits for her to say more, still unable to react. Aside from general information regarding her life, this is the first time her mom has told her anything about her past.
"You were unconscious, unconscious and swimming in your own blood. We rushed you to the hospital." Mrs. McCullers continues her story, determined to finish it despite the sharp pain she feels with the recollection. "A few days later, you admitted that a girl in school read one of your letters and has been bullying and blackmailing you."
"Is that what these are? The faint lines on my wrists?" Paige says, holding her arms out in front of her. "You said I got it from some accident!"
"Your father and I.. We always viewed it as an accident, Paige.."
"What else did you lie to me about?!" Paige snaps.
"Paige, if you just calm down.." Mrs. McCullers pleads.
"How calm would you be if you find out your parents lied to you about who you really are?!" Paige yells as she walks out of her room and out the front door, forgetting all the other questions she wants answered.
Paige arrives back at her apartment, her stomach grumbling from having missed dinner. After attempting to scrounge up something edible from whatever's inside her fridge, she gives up and settles for the most suitable thing she seems to have, beer. She's already on her second bottle when a few loud knocks startle Paige out of her daze.
"Honey? It's me." Mr. McCullers says calmly through the door. "I thought you might want to talk."
Paige drags herself to the door and opens it to find her father standing on the other side, holding take-out as a peace offering. As much as Paige hates her parents for lying to her, she can't stay mad at her dad for long and he knows it. If she was a daddy's girl prior to the accident, it still shows.
"I'm only letting you in because you have food." Paige says.
Mr. McCullers enters and starts to prepare their dinner on the coffee table. Paige doesn't say anything and befalls her apartment. After setting up dinner, he grabs a bottle and drinks from it to ride through the awkwardness of the moment. They eat together, talking sparingly. Nick knows this is unlike any of the talks he's previously had with his daughter, from before the accident or after, and he has no idea how to start it.
"So what do you think of her?"
Paige, taken aback by her father's straight forwardness, struggles to think of an answer. "I don't like her."
Nick laughs. "Isn't it too early to make that decision?"
"Not when she greets you with a slap the first time you see each other. Most people make do with a smile or a wave or even just a nod." Paige says, bitterly remembering their first encounter.
"I've never seen you so angry at her before. I feel like I'm talking to a completely different person."
"My identity is made up of roughly 4 years, dad. For all intents and purposes, I am a completely different person." Paige says, tears threatening to spill from her eyes again, too many times for her liking. Is this how Emily feels all the time?
"Honey, I don't know how much you know about her.."
"She knows about me!" Paige shoots up from the couch, recalling what happened just earlier this afternoon. "This is why I didn't want anyone to know about my amnesia, dad! It's so easy to spin lies about my past."
"Honey, it's not.." Nick struggles to explain things to his daughter. "Well, your mom and I know about your amnesia, honey, and.."
"Yeah and look how well that turned out!" Paige whips around and looks at her dad accusingly. "You were supposed to take care of me. You were supposed to tell me everything I forgot! You were supposed to help me remember! Why didn't you?!"
"That's why I'm here now." Nick gets up and walks towards his daughter, putting his arms gently around her. "Your mother and I.. Paige, if you just listen to what I have to say.."
"Listen to what? More lies?!" Paige tries to wrestle her way out of her father's embrace but Nick holds on to her tighter.
"Honey.." He kisses Paige's head. "I know you're angry. There's a reason we kept things hidden and it all started with these." He runs his thumb over Paige's wrists, catching the girl's attention and calming her down enough to bring her back to the couch.
"You were always a strong-headed girl, Paige. I would like to think you got that from me but really, I think you got it from your mother."
Paige, feeling something instinctual, stretches out on the sofa, resting her head on her father's lap.
"You used to do that, you know, when you were little." Nick strokes his daughter's hair, soothing the girl. "Whenever I told you stories, you wouldn't let me continue until we were in this position."
Paige shifts so she can see her father and the sincerity in his eyes. For now, she decides that this is enough to let him continue.
"On your first day in high school, you came home so excited, because you wanted to try out for the swim team. You have always loved the water and had taken swimming lessons most of your life so it wasn't a surprise to your mother and I. When you got in the team, we had this big celebration at home. We had no idea what the swim team brought with it."
"Mom said I started talking about this girl and how I wrote her letters but never gave them to her."
"We thought nothing of it until we saw you unconscious in a tub with water stained red from your own blood. You were in the hospital for a few days and while there, your mother went ballistic trying to unearth why you would hurt yourself. What she found was a shock to both of us. You wrote letters to your teammate and she wrote you back. After you got out of the hospital, we asked you about the letters and you told us that a girl named Ali, wrote the letters and made it seem like they were from your teammate."
Paige nods, showing her father that she's listening. Maybe it comes with not remembering but she doesn't feel anything. It certainly doesn't feel like she's listening to something that happened to her. In fact, it feels like it's somebody else's story.
"Before you came home, your mother and I already had a talk about the possibility of you being gay because of the nature of your letters. We were wrong in thinking that preventing you from coming out will make you straight and keep you safe. In the next 2 years or so, we grew apart because we, especially me, did everything in our power to make you like guys. In your junior year, you still came out anyway. We got mad at you, of course. We made it seem like it was a disgrace to the church so we could fool ourselves as well. But the truth behind it, which we had to accept eventually, was that we were so against it because of one thing only – we were scared you would hurt yourself again because of your teammate."
Nick wipes his eyes, recalling how he almost destroyed his daughter because he allowed himself to be blinded by fear instead of love.
"This is something I want you to understand, Paige, even now that it's obviously not an issue. Your being gay never bothered us. You are our only daughter and we love you so much, no matter who you love. But back then, we would rather you be alive than be out and proud and dead because the girl you liked didn't feel the same way. In a way, I've thought of it as a blessing that you don't remember these things. At least you don't remember how much you sufferred because of our mistake." Nick pauses, letting himself and Paige take a breather for a few seconds.
"Who was she?" Paige asks, curious. "The girl I wrote letters to?"
Mr. McCullers sighs, knowing it's only a matter of time before Paige asks. Until now, he still doubts whether he's doing the right thing, telling his daughter about all of this. But Paige is looking for answers and there's really no other choice except to tell her the truth, something they should have done the day it became clear that her amnesia was more permanent than temporary.
"You've met her already, Paige. Her name is Emily Fields."
Only when Nick mentioned Emily's name did Paige recall what happened in her apartment earlier. A sudden chill moves down her spine causing her to shudder.
Emily Catherine Fields, the girl in her dreams who claims to love her, the girl she accused of deceiving her, the girl she kissed so coldheartedly, isn't lying at all.