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Chapter 2-Lost in Remembering

            Walking back silently with my head down, ashamed of the tears that wouldn't stop, I forced myself to love Matthew. The man I have been dating for almost two years. He wasn't a murderer, wasn't a spy, and most importantly, didn't know the truth about me. He loved me, just as much as anyone can love another. The only problem I can find with Matthew is that I don't love him. I don't love him like I love someone else. Like I love Vaughn.

This thought caused me to laugh, a bitter deep laugh. Francie stared at me, puzzled. After all, Vaughn didn't love me, if he did, he would have said so. He would have said so. He would have told me a year ago when SD-6 was taken down. He would have told me when I got engaged and he wouldn't have let me dismiss him like that, like a wounded bird.

 I can still remember that day where all the lies in my world had disappeared into the crisp air, nonexistent. I can recall all the feelings that had ran through my body numb from all the excitement. When I had arrived at CIA headquarters after the takedown, they had asked me to write statements for every mission, every horrible memory of SD-6, and any leads I had on other affiliates with SD-6.  Devlin had taken me through the offices and back to the conference room where I had begun this world of secrets, of darkness over three years ago. When I walked in the room, there was the same table with about five pens.

"Would you like anything to drink? Anything?" I could already feel the misery and hurt oozing out of my fingertips, leaving me forever.

"No thanks, I'm fine." I smiled and nodded knowing that in a few hours that my hands will cramp up form the endless thoughts screaming out onto the paper.

As soon as I began to write, the words of hatred and anguish poured out onto the paper. The words appeared as fine as silk, but what the words wrote out was not as smooth as silk. Recalling every mission, every emotion, I sighed, knowing that it was all over. After hours of writing all of the information of torture and despair stored in my brain, a reel of film stashed away forever, the smooth ink had began to thin and disconnect from carrying the harsh cruelties spilling form it. I heard a knock on the door. My first thought was, I need a new pen. I had already gone through five. But as soon as my comforting silence was replaced with one accompanied with tension, the pen was erased from my mind.

"Come in." I muttered without taking my eyes and hands off the paper that was going to set me free. I heard the door open, with a slight creak, and heard someone come in, not saying a word just staring at me. Staring at my finger, that was answering his questions about the office room gossip. After moments of silence and wonderment, I finally turned around; I wanted to know who was checking in on my progress.

            Spinning my chair around, a smile spread across my face upon seeing him, knowing that I could walk out the door with him and not worry. "Hi." My heart fluttering, my eyes sparkling, forgetting about the sparkle on my hand, until I see why he was so silent.

"Hi," he managed to stumble out, strained in a gruff voice. "So it's true, you're getting married?"

"Oh, yes," the sparkle in my eyes vanishing, a hurt appearing instead, "he asked me Friday, before all the chaos." Avoiding his blurry eyes, I stared at my ring, my sight blurring as well; I didn't know what to say. He was the man I truly wanted to marry, but that would never be possible. He has Alice and I now have Matthew, except Alice didn't have a ring. I saw his fingers try and grasp onto the thick air of tension, nothing was caught in his weak hands. I could feel the hurt pouring out of his eyes as he studied my left ring finger. An unsettling silence had made its way, parting us.

"So, what are you going to do, I mean as in work, because obviously you can't be my handler anymore because I'm not going to stay as a double agent because there is no SD-6 and since I am quitting the whole government and espionage game and .." Shut up Sydney, you sound like Marshall rambling on. Closing my eyes, I can smell the stale ink drying, cracking.

A smile made its way on his expressionless face, calming me. "They haven't told me yet, but Devlin talked about a promotion of some sort. Maybe in Washington D.C." Washington D.C., my heart stopped. For a second, I couldn't breath, all the air in the room seemed to be sucked out form underneath us. My face drew in close, I can't let him see the pain. He didn't move, but stayed by the door, waiting for an opportunity to leave so I can't see the hurt that is etched onto his face.

"That's good, congratulations. Good luck." In my heart, I know I should mean that. But also, I wish he would just stay here. Even if I can't have him, then at least if he is here, near me, I can at least see him. I can feel a hole eating its way into my heart, killing me.

"Thanks you too." He said it with such torment and I could tell that he didn't mean it. Finally our eyes met, and I couldn't part them from his. Staring at the glassiness that trapped his feelings in, I was mesmerized. How could I not tell him? I sat there, with an empty pen that was forcing out all the bad memories and staring at him trying not to cry, not to give in, not to weak. He always thought I was strong, but I really wasn't. Realizing the pain that was flowing between us, I quickly took my gaze back to my paper then back to his eyes that were back to staring at the tiny ring that got in our way.

Finding a voice in my muffled and confused throat, I broke up the thoughts that were swimming through our frantic minds. "Are you coming to the wedding?" Please don't come, please don't come. I was saying it over and over silently in my head. If he comes, I know I won't be able to go through with it.

"I don't think so, if I'm in D.C., I don't think I'll be able to get out here. I'm sorry, I'm sure it will be wonderful." His eyes darting around the room, his voice breaking up. My heart fell to the floor, even though he had said the words I was hoping he would, I wished he was going, so that I couldn't go through with it. I tried to speak, but I couldn't. My mouth just hung wide open, stuttering. If I speak, I'm afraid of what I might say, so I don't say anything.

 "Well, I better let you continue, so you can get out of here and out of this life sooner. Bye." He took one last longing look at me and all I wanted to do was to jump up and hug him. I wanted to erase that pain in his eyes that I know I created. But I didn't. I let him leave, let him walk out of my life. I let him take away all the happiness and light that had entered into my life when SD-6 was gone. After he slammed the door shut, a stark sound that echoes in my dreams still, I remembered I needed a new pen. A stream of tears began to mix with all the lies and horrible antics on the page that was revealing the truth. 

"Sydney? What do you think half-up with loose curls? I think I can manage that in ten minutes." Francie brought me back to reality, brought me back to a lie, once again. I looked in the mirror and saw the tears that had stained lines of anguish on my face. She had my tousled hair in one hand and the other balancing my veil over it in front of a mirror. I couldn't speak, my heart hollowing out from the terrible memory of another lie engraving itself in my mind.

"Sydney?" I snapped my heart back to what must be done.

"Oh yeah, tha … that's fine. Thank you." I shake my head and return my thoughts to my wedding. But I can't. All I can think about his him. His eyes that light up every time I see him. His smile that can always buckle my knees and the way when he gets worried or upset his forehead begins to crease. Suddenly, I realize what I really want. I can't live like this anymore.

"Francie, hold on. I have to go somewhere." I begin to stand, my head beginning to fill with clouds leading my unstable feet to where I must go, to confront what should have been dealt with a long time ago.

"What? What do you mean somewhere to go?" She held onto the veil, a tighter grip than I own right now. Her face in complete dismay.

"Um, I need to talk to Matthew." Walking out the door, light headed, she tried to figure out what was happening and what I was thinking.

"Sydney, isn't it bad luck if the groom sees the bride before the wedding. Sydney, you have to finish getting ready!! Sydney?" But I didn't hear her. I was already down the hall, stumbling on my thoughts racing around and around in my head. My mind was made up. I had to tell him who I am, what I have always been, and what I want more than anything in the world.

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