The Memory of Us: A Standalone Soulmate Romance

by Claire Raye

  I lied to her for all that time and she still felt the betrayal. When her doctor released her to return to work, that was the same day she left me. I knew it was coming but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like fucking hell. She will always be a better person than me, because she forgave me and we still remain friends. Not the kind that see each other on a regular basis, but the kind who occasionally text each other something funny or send an email saying a mutual friend had a baby or whatever. It’s simple and normal, but I still miss the shit out of her.

  Bridgitte said something to me when she left, something that resonated and still does.

  “Elliot, I love you and I always will, but you’re holding onto something I can never give you. If finding Nora will make you happy, then you need to find her.”

  I wanted to argue with her, tell her that she’s what I fucking want, but again, I know that wasn’t entirely true. I hate that thoughts of Nora still pull at me from the back of my mind. She’s always there despite wanting to forget her.

  I worked late today and although it’s after nine, I’m just sitting down to eat dinner still dressed in my suit, my tie loose at my neck and my shoes kicked off at the end of the couch. I switch on the TV and begin to mindlessly flip through channels.

  My job has taken over my life in the last few months, becoming busier each day, but a part of me doesn’t mind because it makes me forget. It focuses my attention on other things and for a few minutes out of every day, I forget how majorly I fucked up.

  Yet there’s still a part of me that longs for the life I left in San Diego, the one at nineteen, that I couldn’t wait to get away from. It was a simpler life, easy and quiet, a life that contained Nora even if it was for just a split second.

  The buzzer to my unit goes off and I ignore it. I’m not expecting anyone and if the doorman hasn’t acknowledged the person, then clearly I don’t know who it is. A few seconds later my phone lights up with a text.

  Bridgitte: I’m downstairs. Can you let me in?

  Without responding to her text, I press the buzzer letting her in.

  It’s been months since Bridgitte and I last spoke, let alone texted each other. The last conversation we had was through an email regarding a box of pictures she thought she left at my place. It was quick and to the point, and when I found the box, I had my office courier it over to her. I have no idea why she would be here now. She generally doesn’t just show up. We aren’t those kinds of friends.

  I open the door to my unit, waiting for her to come up the stairs. I’m disheveled and exhausted, and a part of me isn’t certain I want to know why she’s here. It’s been a long ass day.

  She smiles at me when she comes into view, rounding the top of the stairs and stopping in front of my door. While she has a smile on her face, it’s not genuine, something about it is forced and she looks uncomfortable.

  The smile drops and she chews her bottom lip for a second as she digs in the bag she has slung over her shoulder.

  “Can I come in?” she asks, her head down as she continues to rifle through her bag.

  “Sure,” I respond, stepping to the side so she can walk in. “Everything okay?” I ask, still wondering why she’s here. She’s still dressed in her work clothes and her heels click as she walks across the wood floor, coming to rest a few feet from the door. She doesn’t sit down and she doesn’t look at me right away.

  “Bridgitte? What’s going on?” I ask, this time more firmly. It almost feels like she’s dragging it out to make me concerned, like she wants me to worry. I think we’re beyond this. I’ve apologized for what happened in the past with her accident and Nora, and as far as I know, she’s moved on. If she’s come here to rub it in more, she can get the fuck out.

  She’s still looking in her fucking bag and I’m about to lose my shit. It feels like she’s been here for hours and has said nothing. A second later she pulls a book from her bag and hands it to me, but when she looks up, her eyes are filled with tears.

  “This is for you,” she says, a weak smile on her lips. She tucks her hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath as I watch a tear fall down her cheek.

  “A book?” I question, taking it from her outstretched hand.

  “It’s your book,” she says with a sniffle as she tries to compose herself. I have no idea what she’s talking about and clearly the look on my face says I’m clueless because she adds, “It’s Nora’s book. Nora wrote it about you, about both of you.” It all comes out in a rush, as if saying it quickly will end the torn feeling I imagine she’s dealing with right now.

  I turn the book over and read the back cover, and Bridgitte is right. From the first line, it’s our story, Nora’s and mine. I’m suddenly overcome with a sick feeling. My heart is racing, my hands grow clammy and for a second I think I’m going to fucking vomit on the floor. I’ve waited for this moment for so long, just to know her name and here it is in front of me, but this is not the way I expected it to go down. Bridgitte is the last person I want to share this with. It’s what ruined us. It couldn’t be more fucking awkward as Bridgitte stands here watching me take in the book.

  “Elliot,” she says quietly as she looks down at the floor. I don’t even know how to respond and judging by her lack of response now, she feels the same way.

  “Thank you, Bridgitte. You didn’t have to come here. You didn’t have to bring me the book, but you did.”

  She pauses for a while and the silence grows even more awkward, with neither of us certain what should be said.

  Bridgitte breaks the silence as she exhales loudly, and when her eyes connect with mine she says, “Quite honestly, Elliot, I need this to be over. I need to move on. Like you, I’m holding on to something, but in my case you were never mine to begin with.”

  I say the first thing that comes to my mind because there’s no sense in defending myself. I strung Bridgitte along. I made her think she had a chance when all along I was just pretending to forget Nora. It’s not that I never loved Bridgitte because I did. It just wasn’t enough to sustain our relationship long term. It makes me a shitty person and I know that.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, but I know it’s not enough. She may have forgiven me for being a complete fucking asshole, but it doesn’t correct what I put her through.

  She walks toward the door and before leaving, she turns to look at me, her face full of sadness and her eyes wet with tears, she says quietly, “Take care, Elliot.”

  And that’s it. I watch Bridgitte leave, once again feeling like shit, because I’ve finally fucking found what I’ve been looking for, but I’ve hurt someone in the process.

  I sit down on the couch, my head in my hands. I’ve wanted this for so long, but the guilt I feel fucking sucks. I need to get over it because I’m not getting back together with Bridgitte and clearly Nora hasn’t forgotten about me, about us.

  I turn the book over in my hands looking at the cover but noticing nothing but her name.

  Nora Mills

  Just seeing it there in front of me spawns my need to find her immediately. I grab my laptop from the coffee table and type her name into Google, and in only seconds, there she is. A picture of her appears on my screen and she looks exactly the same as she did the day I met her at that party. She’s as stunning as I remember.

  The link and picture are a news story that comes from a New York magazine regarding the opening of a photography studio. I click the link, but the story isn’t about Nora. It’s about her sister Alice, and standing next to Nora is the man I encountered in Boston right before Bridgitte’s accident.

  It only takes a second for me to recall the conversation I had with the man, “Maybe you’re looking for my daughter Alice?” he said. It’s all becoming clear and I curse out loud at how fucking close I was to finding Nora. I was standing outside her father’s house in Boston. Why wouldn’t he have mentioned his other daughter Nora? Why only Alice? Why didn’t I question him more and why was there no recent information on Nora?

 
I have a million fucking unanswered questions flying around in my head, questions that can only be answered by Nora. I have to find her.

  Now that I have her last name it doesn’t take long to locate some information on her, including what I hope is an updated address. I also locate her publisher, and worst-case scenario, if the address I have isn’t hers, I can always visit the publishing company and finesse my way into hopefully finding her through them. I’ll just explain who I am…or maybe that’s idiotic because I’m sure there are guys already trying to cash in on my status, using my name to get to Nora. Why would a guy read Nora’s romance book? I’m fucking over thinking this shit. Fuck.

  The address I have for Nora lists her as New York City, so I waste no time booking a flight into JFK for tomorrow morning, and while it costs me a fucking fortune, it will all be worth it in the end if I find Nora.

  Next I do something I know I have to do, but I’m not looking forward to. I call Matt. I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knows with Bridgitte and Maggie still being friends. This seems like something Bridgitte wouldn’t keep from her.

  It’s late by the time I get it together to call, after ten, although it’s not late on the west coast, Matt still answers the phone with a question and a small amount of concern.

  “Everything alright?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I found her,” I say immediately. No point in small talk, but he’s obviously confused by my response.

  “What?”

  “I found Nora.”

  “Seriously? Are you sure?” he asks, his voice mixed with excitement and fear. He’s been with me throughout it all. He’s watched it destroy my relationship with Bridgitte and he’s been there when I needed to obsess over Nora and when I continually said fuck it all.

  “I’m positive it’s her. She wrote a book about us. Well, she doesn’t use our names, but it’s our story.”

  “And you’re certain it’s not just a similar story. Is the author’s name Nora?” Matt is full of questions and I understand why. I’ve been down this road with him before and they’ve all been dead ends.

  “It’s her. It is absolutely her. I have no doubt and I’ve found an address for her. I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, fuck that’s fast. You sure you don’t want to call her or email her first? What if it’s just a coincidence and it’s not her? If it is, what if she’s married? Has kids? It seems a little intrusive to just show up.”

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” I respond as I thumb through the pages of the book, coming to a stop at the dedication page and what it says:

  To Elliot, wherever you are. I’ve missed you every day.

  I fall silent as I re-read the dedication and I hear Matt call my name, but I don’t respond. This is all I need to know to realize I’m doing exactly what I should be. I’m going to find her. She wouldn’t put that as her dedication if she’s married, if she isn’t still feeling the same way I am. And if I had any doubt it was her, it’s all gone now.

  “Elliot,” Matt calls down the phone, loudly this time.

  “It’s definitely her and she’s been waiting for me to find her,” I assert, completely confident in my words. “Her dedication says, ‘To Elliot, wherever you are. I’ve missed you every day.’ If that’s not enough of a fucking indication I don’t know what is.”

  “Okay, man, sounds legit. I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. It could be a total failure.”

  “Again, I’m willing to take that chance.”

  “Good luck,” Matt says just before hanging up, but then asks the question I’m still shaky about answering. “How’d you find her book? You don’t read romance,” he says with a small laugh.

  “Bridgitte,” is all I say and he’s the one who falls silent. “Bridgitte brought the book to me tonight,” I add but it still doesn’t sound any less fucked up.

  “Dude, that’s some weird shit. Your ex-fiancé helped you find the girl who broke up your relationship.” I know Matt is shaking his head at me right now, and hearing him lay it out, hearing him say it out loud, makes it sound even worse. It sounds horrible. Finding out from Bridgitte was obviously not the best possible scenario.

  “I know. What can I say?”

  “I don’t know, but I hope it’s all worth it in the end,” Matt says skeptically and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling the same way.

  Chapter Twenty: Nora

  It’s almost time for Alice’s grand opening and the two of us are now standing in the tiny bathroom in my apartment trying to get ready. The sheer size of the bathroom is making it extremely difficult. I’m practically standing in the bathtub while I blow dry my hair, while Alice has stripped off her dress and is fanning her armpits with an annoyed look on her face.

  “Fuck me!” she yells over the hum of the blow dryer. “It’s hotter than a crotch in here!”

  “Graphic,” I shout back as Alice leans in close to the mirror to apply another coat of mascara.

  I switch off the blow dryer and grab the straightener. “I’ll do this in my room. The bathroom’s all yours,” I say as I swat Alice on the butt and leave.

  She giggles a bit, but adds, “I’m moving out.” And then regards me with some sincerity in her eyes and for a second I think she might be serious.

  “Oh don’t be so dramatic, Alice. It isn’t that bad.”

  “I’m serious, Nora,” she says, turning to look at me. “I’ve been here too long and with James living here now and the business up and running, it’s time. I’m moving in with James.”

  “Okay,” I answer back, but my voice is quiet. I’m not sure why I’m feeling hurt but I am. I’ve grown used to having Alice here and now that her life is back on track, I can’t help but wonder what will happen to our relationship. So much has changed between us and even though I like to tease her about shacking up here for free for the last year, I’ve truly enjoyed having her here.

  I didn’t realize how lonely I was until Alice moved in. She eased some of that, not to mention how much she’s helped me get over Elliot. It was Alice who told me to take a chance on Ryan. Without her here, I’m not sure I would’ve had the drive to change anything. She’s been a huge support system for me and I worry about losing that.

  “Stop looking so hurt,” Alice says with a smile on her face. “It’s not like I’m moving across the country. And I’m sure you’re ready to have your apartment back so you can stop having quiet sex with Ryan.” Alice widens her eyes at me and nods her head making me laugh a little.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” I answer, conceding even though my anxiety has returned. I really need to start seeing my therapist again so I can get this shit under control. Clearly everything is just fine. “When are you planning to move out?” I ask.

  “I was thinking soon. Maybe on Thursday of this week? I figure I’ll take Friday off, that way James and I have time to get everything moved and unpacked because I have sessions booked for the weekend.”

  “Shit, that’s quick, but I guess you don’t really have all that much stuff to move and if you’re moving in with James you don’t need to find a place of your own.” With that I leave Alice to finish getting ready and as I hit my room I realize that Thursday is the thirteenth of July.

  Fuck me.

  And fuck that number.

  I’m putting way too much on all of this and I really need to get over it. I knew as time approached to the date I would normally have started searching for Elliot I would feel conflicted, but I also never expected to meet Ryan, have Alice’s grand opening and find out she’s moving out all at once.

  I shake the whole thing off knowing this is Alice’s day and she needs my support right now.

  An hour later the two of us are waiting for James and Ryan to arrive so we can all head over to the studio together.

  “You nervous?” I ask Alice as she sits on the couch picking at her nails.

  “A little, but I think you’re more nervous than I am,” she says, giving me a
sideways glance. “And I’m not sure it’s entirely because of my grand opening.” I swallow hard and suddenly want to unload on her all my fears. “I know the anniversary or whatever you want to call it is coming up. It’s going to be hard, Nora, but things have changed, you’ve changed and as much as you want to forget Elliot and everything you’ve done in the past, it’s going to take some time.”

  “I know. I just feel anxious about the whole thing.”

  “I think that’s probably normal. It was something you did for twelve years. That’s a long fucking time and after reading what you wrote and spending time with you while you looked for Elliot, I believe you did fall in love with him. And after the way it ended, you were never able to get the closure you needed, but I think you found some of that in writing the book.”

  Everything Alice says is true. I have found closure in the book. Writing our story has allowed me to find comfort in knowing I’ve put it out there. All my fears, my emotions, my feelings down in one place.

  “I’ve told you before,” Alice says firmly but sympathetically. “You have two choices, move on and fall in love again or continue to look for Elliot. Both options have their pros and cons, but finding Elliot might never bring you the happiness you’re seeking.”

  I laugh at her last line and she stands up and pulls me into her arms for a hug.

  “You are so fucking stupid,” I say and Alice swats at me as I pull away from her. “When did you become all philosophical and shit?”

  “When I had to spend three fucking weeks touring the country looking for Elliot with you. Gave me some insight into how you work.” She pauses for a second and eyes me with reverence and I can’t figure her out. But then she says, “Or maybe finding Elliot will always be what you need.”

  “Fuck, Alice!” I shout and she shakes her head at me. “You can’t say shit like that to me.”