Chapter 8: Only the Memories
"Thank you," Monica said, tears in her eyes, "for accepting me."
"No problem," Erin said softly. Taking her chin in his hand, he lightly kissed her on the lips.
"Monica?" A hand waved in front of her face.
"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry, Amy."
"I know it's hard, but you're not alone, okay? We're all here for you."
"I know. I appreciate it. It's just—I can't believe he's gone. I just talked to him four
days ago and then . . ." Amy wrapped her arms around Monica. Monica stiffened in her
grasp then slowly pushed her away.
"I, I need some air." Abruptly, Monica walked downstairs toward the courtyard.
Amy stepped back and sighed. Involuntarily, she slipped her hand into Matt's, who
had been by her side all morning. "I'm worried about her, Matt."
He gave her hand a squeeze. "I know, but she'll pull through." Amy tugged on Matt's
hand and pulled him toward the porch overlooking the courtyard.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she leaned against the metal railing to face Matt.
"The scariest part is I see myself in her."
"Go on," he urged softly.
"I've been avoiding you, and running from us. I'm sorry, Matt."
"I'm sorry too. I didn't help the situation."
"Now that we're even, I think it's about time we pulled out of our misery and begin
talking about it."
"Talk about it, why?"
Amy threw up her hands. "That's been the whole problem, Matt! We haven't been
talking about it. Just because we are on speaking terms doesn't mean we can just forget
about . . ." She swallowed hard, "Our loss and move on." Stumbling forward, she
launched herself into Matt's arms and wept.
"I miss her, Matt," Amy cried.
Matt wrapped his arms around her. "I know. So do I. Maybe we should talk to
someone--someone who's been through it just like us."
Monica looked toward Amy's distant figure. Her eyes blurred at the sight of Amy
seeking comfort in Matt's arms. She pulled out a cream - colored handkerchief, with the
initial 'E' embroidered in fancy green script, and stared at it. "Maybe something good
will come out of this after all," she sniffled.
"Maybe." She whirled around to see John Cena staring at her intently.
"What do you know and why do you care?" Monica snapped.
He ignored her question and pulled an orange handkerchief out of his pocket. "Here,
use this one."
Appreciative, she tenderly folded Erin's handkerchief back up and placed it in her
purse. "Thank you," she said softly.
p.s. bold and italicized letters other than title chapters, are character's thoughts.