When was the last time you thought of me?
Or have you completely erased me from your memory?
It had been 97 days since she had last held his gaze.
Andy understood why he had gone. He was giving her time and space. He needed time and space. He had been waiting patiently in the background while she had been grieving a lost opportunity at an easy life. Her mind was occupied by her anger, her depression, and her stupidity. That was all she could feel about her relationship with Luke. That it had been some strange opportunity that wasn't meant for her. True, she thought she was safe with him, that her heart wouldn't be broken again. She went against her gut instinct and chose Luke. And "luck" had worked it out so she didn't fall into a mistake of a marriage. Funny how she thought Luke's cheating on her was good luck now...
I often think about where I went wrong
The more I do the less I know.
That was truly the worst decision she had made in her life to that point. Sam's advice was to always trust your gut instinct. If she had from the start, where would she be now? Looking at the clock radio to the right of the bed she saw it flashing 12:00. There was only dim light of early spring seeping through the sides of the closed shades. She chuckled almost cynically to herself. 'Must have had an overnight power outage.' She sat up and reached across the bedside table for her cell phone and flipped it open for the time. 6:14. Brilliant. Resetting the alarm, she turned over and fell asleep, hoping for another hour or two.
I know I have a fickle heart and a bitterness
And a wandering eye and a heaviness in my head.
A thought plagued her mind, though. Did he think of her as often as she did of him?
She loved him. That was for certain. After he left she had been partnered with Oliver again. His was a calming presence, a mixture between a father and a brother. And his place in the world as Sam's best friend had always been evident. It was comforting to know that Sam had wanted her to be placed with Oliver in his absence.
This was only further cemented when Oliver had returned to Sam's place the day after he left to check on Andy. It was late afternoon, and after a few knocks on the sill of the door, he let himself in with the spare key Sam had given him years ago. He knew it was her weekend off, but seeing Andy lying on the couch with an almost empty bottle of booze in her hand made his heart ache for her. "Andy?" He asked gingerly. Her tear glazed eyes looked up at him and she let out a sad sigh. Placing the bottle on the coffee table, she sat forward.
"I know. I'm wallowing. I just need to properly wallow before I go back on Monday."
Still he eyed the alcohol for a moment before acting. He took the bottle away from her and put it away. "Booze only makes things worse, McNally. You should know that," he added softly. "You know he loves you, right?" She nodded slowly. "Go get cleaned up," he prodded, "you're Sam's stand in for dinner at my place. Zoe's cooking like we're having company."
But don't you remember? Don't you remember?
The reason you loved me before?
Baby please remember me once more.
Now, just over three months later, she was done feeling sorry for herself. When he came back she'd never let him go. She'd make sure he understood that she'd love him till the day she dies and then some. And she'd make sure he never gave her time or space again.
Gah. I couldn't help but continue. The italics are Adele's Don't You Remember. Part 3 around the corner. Maybe tonight or tomorrow. I love this gooey feeling stuff.