CHAPTER 6

Sean

On the ride home, the jeep was filled with intense…emotion. There were spurts of loud talking and excitement, then silent lulls while all of us tried to take this in, what it meant and what we would do next.

I was confident when I left her there, staring at my ring, that she would call. Not necessarily because she wanted to or because she wanted me, but because she would not be able to help herself.

Somewhere between Manny slapping me and walking through that door again, I realized I had the upper hand. I knew her personality and her instincts so well that I could predict her reaction to every move I would make. If I would've stayed and pressured her, she would've gotten angry and more distant. If I begged, she would've gotten scared.

So I left, but before I did, I planted a seed of curiosity in her mind. I offered her answers to all of the questions I knew she had been pondering this past year. Any average person would be starving for these answers as well.

But Emma?

It would eat at her.

It would drive her crazy knowing the answers were right there for her, all she had to do was ask.

On her own terms, she'd come to me, I was sure of it.

I was at a great advantage, I knew her better than she knew herself, and I intended to use it.

"How are we going to tell Spike?" Manny asked, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

"We're not," I said.

"Don't be stupid, Sean, of course we're going to tell her," Toby said.

"No. Nobody says anything to Emma's parents, not yet," I said.

"If we don't tell them, we're just as bad as Jesse. Worse," Toby said.

I ignored him, pushing the creeping guilt out of my mind. I couldn't be compared to Jesse.

"He'll go there. He'll go in there and yank her out of there and she'll hate us all. Jesse would get arrested–"

"And that would be bad?" Jay asked. "I could think of a lot worse that asshole deserves."

"So can I. But it'll piss her off…look, I hate not being able to rip his head off, okay?"

"Wanna go back?" Jay asked, slowing the car.

"No," I sighed. "Look, she is completely overwhelmed and scared. She feels safe there, with him. If we bring her parents into this, she'll take off. They'll leave. Or she could regress physically, mentally. We just…have to wait. Work on building her trust. She'll come around," I said, but it was killing me to have to behave so rationally.

"He's right," Manny said.

"But how do you know?" Toby asked.

"Because…because it's still her, just without memories, and I know her as well as I know myself," I told him.

"How long do we wait? This can't go on forever," Toby said, looking uneasy.

"It won't. She'll remember," Liberty said, confident.

"I don't know you guys…" Toby said.

"It's like the poem," Liberty shrugged.

We all waited for an explanation.

"The wedding poem…'for I must live because I live and life in me is what you give.' Don't you see it? Of course Emma is alive…if she hadn't survived, Sean wouldn't have either, and vice versa. He gives her life. It's very simple. She can try, but she can't fight fate forever. She'll be back, because Sean is alive."

We stared at her.

"What? It might sound crazy, but it's true. Look, Emma picked that poem because she believed in it. She may not know it, but she still does."

I nodded at Liberty. I could use all the support I could get.

It may be romanticizing the situation, but she was right.

Emma and I belonged together.

She couldn't fight fate forever and I had nothing but time.

The car was quiet until Jay broke the silence.

"Lib, that is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard."

-:-

Emma

"Married?" I said, kicking off my shoes at the door. "Please! That guy is a nut! Married. Well, if it's true, and I highly doubt it is, I AM getting a divorce!" I fumed. I'd ranted all the way home to Jesse while he was uncharacteristically quiet.

I, on the other hand, was petrified.

Obviously, this guy knew me. Everything he said… and my dreams.

But married?

Jesse could be right. Sean could be some kind of psycho… but why was my gut telling me otherwise?

I looked up at Jesse. He looked devastated.

"Oh, Jess, I'm not going anywhere. Those people–"

"It's true."

"What?"

"It's true. You're married to that guy."

"Just because some guy with a ring shows up–"

"Hang on. I'll be right back," Jesse said quietly. Then he left the room.

When he came back he was holding a small box and he wouldn't look me in the eye.

"Jess, everything is going to be okay… I promise," I said, hoping to sound reassuring.

Jesse fished around in his pocket and pulled out the ring Sean left on the table. I was going to leave it there, but I saw Jesse snatch it up and put it in his pocket before we left. Jesse opened the box he had retrieved from the other room and took something out. Wordlessly, he walked to me and opened my clenched fist. He dropped two rings on my palm. I gaped down at them.

They matched.

Sean's was heavier, thicker and the one Jesse pulled from the box was daintier, feminine…for a woman. The bigger ring was duller, not as shiny as the smaller one, it had a tiny knick on the band and it looked…well, like someone had been wearing it for a year. The smaller ring was shiny, fresh on one half, but I noticed dried blood crusted over part of it. But…they matched. The simple etching around the rings was identical.

"Jesse, where did you get this?" I asked. I wanted him to lie to me. He didn't.

"It's yours. We had to take it off of you…you know," he said, still not meeting my eyes.

"You never–you knew?" I asked. I wasn't sure how I felt.

Maybe angry.

Maybe sad.

Maybe betrayed.

Maybe loved.

"I was never sure of anything. I knew you wore a ring, that was the only thing I was sure of."

"You just…kept this? From me?"

"Jackie, it's not like that. I wasn't sneaking around, hiding the ring. I just never found the right time, and whenever I tried to bring up the possibilities of your past, you'd get mad! Or you'd get sad and…I wasn't even sure what to tell you, I wasn't sure you were married…then that guy walked in and I saw his ring…they were the same. They said he was in the train wreck and then I knew for sure."

He looked up at me, tears brimming on his lids and he looked ashamed, but all I could see was the face of my savior. I wasn't sure if I should be angry or not. All I knew was Jesse saved my life last year and his feelings for me were genuine and true. I couldn't be mad at him.

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath.

"Okay?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yeah. It's okay… I'm tired, though and I think I'd like to be alone right now."

"Sure, yeah. But Jackie? Don't you think we should talk about this?"

"We will Jess, but I just need to think right now."

"Don't hate me, Jackie."

Hate him?

I could never hate Jesse.

"Never, Jesse. I'm not even mad at you. How could I blame you? Look, this whole thing is crazy. There is no right or wrong in this situation. You did what you thought was best for me. You may even have been right, too. I don't know what I would've done, if the situation were reversed."

"I love you." He'd never said that before.

"I know."

He nodded his head and left the room.

I stood there with the rings in my hand and wondered what else he kept from me.

-:-

Sleep was not going to come. I sat on my bed, still dressed, still confused. I stared at the rings in my hand, trying to make myself remember.

Nothing.

The questions. Every question I'd had about myself bounced around in my mind, screaming for answers. When is my birthday? Have I ever been to Italy? Mexico? Do I even have a passport? Am I nice? Did I have a pet? Where was I born? What was I doing with my life…before it was interrupted? Do I have a best friend? Have I always hated popcorn?

When these answers were nonexistent, I used to make them up, create a history for myself. But now…they were so accessible. I could have real answers, all I had to do was ask and POOF! They'd be there.

The temptation was too much.

I knew I shouldn't go to him. It would give him false hope and he was already in such pain…but I needed this. I hadn't asked for this any more than he had, so why should I deny myself my history? It was mine and I was going to get it.

I tossed the rings on my dresser and crept passed Jesse's room. The light was on but it was quiet, though I was sure he wasn't sleeping. I was quiet so he wouldn't hear me; I didn't want to tell him where I was going. He would insist on coming and I wasn't even sure I wanted to hear what Sean had to say.

What if I was awful? What if he said I'd done horrible things? I had to do this alone. I grabbed Jess's keys from the hook where he kept them and slipped out the door.

-:-

I sat in the car and stared at his house. I once lived there, but nothing seemed remotely familiar. I wanted to turn around and go home to Jesse, but I'd already made up my mind and I couldn't turn back now. I needed this.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car. On shaky legs I stood on the porch and hesitantly tapped on the door. It opened immediately and he was there, stunning and smiling and not the least bit surprised to see me on his porch in the middle of the night.

Well, at least I always had good taste in men.

-:-

Sean

Just like I knew she would, Emma showed up in the middle of the night. I waited for her to show up every night this past year. This time, she actually materialized. I was exhilarated.

"Come in," I said and stepped aside. She took a step inside and held up her hand.

"This isn't a social call. I want answers," she said, trying to sound tough. She was scared.

"Got it," I said and turned to lead the way to the living room. I tried to keep my distance from her, to keep my elation from her…but it was hard.

"Do you want to sit?" I asked. I knew she didn't, but her legs were shaking. She sat.

"I like your couch…"she said, looking lost.

"You should. You picked it out."

She looked stricken, then quickly tried to mask it.

"When's my birthday?" she asked abruptly.

"November 17th."

"Where was I born?"

"Toronto, Ontario, Canada."

"I never heard of it," she said to herself.

"Well, your parents split when you were very young, just a few months old. Your mother, her name is Christine Nelson. She remarried to your step-father, Archie Simpson, who taught Media Immersion at our old high school, Degrassi. They had a son together."

"My biological father?"

"Shane McKay used to live in a home for the mentally disabled. When you were just a baby, he… he basically took acid and jumped off a bridge. Cracked his skull, caused permanent brain damage." I watched her face as she took this in.

"Is he still alive?"

"No. He died a few years ago, naturally in his sleep. We did go to his funeral, though. I could try to tell you about him, but I never met him. I just know what you told me." I said gently and slowly.

"Maybe later," she said, her eyes closed. It hurt her more than she expected. I sat on the other end of the couch and tried not to touch her.

"Do I travel?" she asked, getting off of the family subject.

"Sure. We've been all over, especially you. You really don't like being near the ocean, though, because of–"

"Tidal waves," she cut me off and I had to smile.

"Yeah, tidal waves."

"Do I have a pet?"

I laughed and she looked at me puzzled.

"Uh, no. We thought about a dog, but decided to try our luck with a fish first. You killed it and the dog idea went out the window."

"I killed it?"

"You knocked over the fishbowl, you're kind of accident prone. After that you declared yourself an unfit pet owner. You used to worry about the safety of our future children," I smiled, remembering so much that I hadn't allowed myself to in the past year.

Her mouth was pressed in a tight line and I knew the mention of us sharing children frightened her.

"Sorry," I said.

"It's okay. I, um, can I use the bathroom? I just need a second," she said. Before I could open my mouth she was on her feet. I stayed silent and watched her walk down the hall, past two doors and in to the third door down, on the right, directly into the bathroom.

I hadn't told her where it was.

After a few minutes she came out, her eyes were red and her cheeks tear stained.

I smiled at her.

"What?"

"I didn't tell you where the bathroom was. You just knew."

She opened her mouth, and then shut it.

We stared at each other until she broke the silence.

"Can I look? Around the house? I really…don't want to hear anymore right now."

"Of course you can look. It's yours."

I watched her walk from room to room. Occasionally, her fingers would brush across a knick knack or a piece of furniture. As I watched her, a surreal feeling took over me.

Emma was here. In our home. It was so right and familiar to me, like she was a fixture that completed my home. Yet, she looked lost. All of these rooms and everything that filled them were new to her. She touched things carefully and hesitantly, as if they would disappear at any moment.

"Can I?" she asked at the bottom of the stairs.

"You don't have to ask. Come on." And I led the way up the stairs.

By the time we got to our bedroom, she was feeling more comfortable. She opened doors and drawers, picked things off shelves, studying them closely. She stopped at the nightstand on her side of the bed. The side I never slept on. She opened the drawer and her face turned bright red.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry… I didn't realize you had a…that someone else…" she stammered. I went over to her and looked over her shoulder, curious myself. I hadn't opened that drawer in a year, it had always been Emma's drawer. I laughed when I saw what had her so embarrassed. Birth control pills.

"They're yours," I said.

"Oh! Oh. Really?"

"Yeah. I don't have…I haven't been with anyone else," I told her. I don't know why, I just wanted her to know.

"I was on the pill?"

I took that to mean she wasn't now. I wasn't sure what that meant exactly.

"Well, yeah. We were going to have kids, after I was done with school and we'd been married a while…but, you know, in the meantime…" I trailed off cautiously. I didn't want her to freak out again.

"Oh. So…I guess, I…" she was curious, dying for details, but too embarrassed to ask.

Classic Emma.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, trying to hide the smile creeping up on my face.

"Well…I guess…I mean, I don't know anything about my past, as far as that goes…I guess I should," she stammered, still staring at the pills.

I sat on the edge of the bed. She took a step back.

"Relax. I'm not going to give you a demonstration," I said.

"This isn't funny!" she said, but the corners of her mouth were twitching up.

"Admit it. This is a crazy situation," I said, trying to get her over her embarrassment.

It was ludicrous. Emma embarrassed about sex, in front of me. If only she knew.

"It's crazy, but it's not funny. Now…just tell me…but don't look at me!" she said, her face still red.

"Well, where should I start?"

"The beginning," she said, solemnly.