The Memory of Us: A Standalone Soulmate Romance

by Claire Raye

  “The book, Nora,” Alice says sternly. “It’s the book.”

  “You think?” I ask, wondering if Elliot would even realize it was me.

  My book is fiction and although the names have been changed, the story is completely autobiographical with some parts added. Writing a book entirely about my experience was not conducive to fiction writing seeing as some parts were just plain boring. But in the end, the heart of the story is there. The premise of how I met Elliot and what happened on that beach were very much honest and real and written straight from my heart. And my dedication page even uses his name.

  “Nora, the synopsis of your book is the perfect summary of your search for Elliot and if he’s been looking for you too, then it was certain to catch his attention.”

  I stop for a moment to think about what Alice has said. Who meets someone and falls in love immediately, spends a total of twelve hours together and then proceeds to search for this person for twelve years? Not many, I imagine. And with my book hitting the bestseller list and the hype surrounding it, I guess it’s not unfathomable that it could’ve somehow found its way into his hands. Maybe directly or indirectly.

  “So you think it’s him too?” I ask, almost hopeful she agrees, because it will make me feel less like I’m losing my mind.

  “I do. The story is beholden to yours and Elliot’s relationship and if he felt even half of what you feel for him, then he’s been looking for you, too.”

  “Do you think he’ll come back? I have no idea how to find him. He didn’t leave any information with the doorman other than the fact that he was looking for me and he came by more than once.” I start to panic not even sure where I go from here. “Oh my god, Alice. What if I missed my opportunity again? What if he’s on a plane back to wherever it is that he lives now and because I wasn’t home, he left? Or what if he came to tell me he’s fucking pissed and he’s suing me for writing our story and selling it to the world without his permission? Oh shit fuck.”

  Alice laughs and quells it quickly when she realizes I’m dead serious. She rests her hand on my knee and chuckles a little before she shakes her head at me.

  “Nora, you’re being insane right now. Completely fucking irrational.” She’s right, but for some reason I can’t make it stop. “Now, listen,” she says, drawing my attention to her. “You didn’t miss anything. He knows your first and last name now and where you live. If he wants to contact you, it won’t be too hard. He’s not pissed at you for writing your story. That’s just stupid. And if you don’t pull yourself together, I’m going to throw a cup of water in your face like Mom used to do to me when I was throwing a tantrum.” Alice stomps her foot a little for effect before adding, “Fuck, things have really changed around here.”

  Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and I nearly scream out loud, even though I know it couldn’t possibly be Elliot. The building is like Fort Knox. No one’s getting in without being buzzed up. The only people who have keys are Alice and Ryan.

  Ryan

  “It’s Ryan,” I say and Alice gives me a pitiful look.

  “How do you know?”

  “He’s the only one who has a key besides you. And I sent him away rather rudely this morning. I know he wants an explanation.” I shake my head at my stupidity. “Why am I pushing him away, Alice?” I ask, running a hand through my hair as I get up to answer the door.

  “I don’t know, Nora, but you better figure out what you want or he’s going to disappear and you’re going to be left with nothing.” She says it so matter-of-factly, like she’s been there before and I’m sure she has. “Ryan’s here with you right now and there may come a time when you find Elliot, but he might not be all you remember. You have a tough call to make, especially if Elliot shows back up. It could be everything you’ve dreamed of, or you could find that with Ryan.”

  “Alice, you aren’t making this any easier,” I say, as I grow annoyed with her lack of advice.

  “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Nora. Fuck, I told you to write the book, write what you love and you did that. Figure out what that all means to you. And for fuck’s sake answer the door before Ryan has a shit fit.”

  I laugh at her and open the door to find Ryan standing there with a stoic expression on his face. It crushes me. I can’t keep doing this to him.

  “Hey Ryan,” I say, stepping aside so he can come in.

  “Alice,” he says, greeting her but saying nothing to me. Why should he after the way I disregarded his feelings and left him in the dark?

  “I’m gonna go, Nora,” Alice says and tells Ryan goodbye as she slips around him and out the door.

  “I’m sorry,” I say before the door even closes.

  “Care to elaborate?” Ryan scoffs and I cringe at his tone.

  “I think that guy I saw last night was Elliot and I think he’s looking for me,” I blurt out not even concerned about how idiotic it sounds or whether the news will hurt his feelings.

  “I assumed that,” Ryan responds. “I don’t know what exactly happened between you two and I’m not sure I really want to know. All I know is, I’m not going to compete with someone you fell in love with thirteen years ago. I’m also not going to get into this with you debating it, because it will cause me to say something I’ll regret.” He pauses and swallows hard. I watch him chew his bottom lip. “You need to choose,” he says and I feel my stomach clench at his words. “I won’t be second to someone else.”

  It only takes a second for me to answer and I can tell by the look on his face he’s floored by my response.

  “I choose you,” I say, despite the shakiness to my voice. “It’s you, Ryan.” I have no idea what I’m doing right now, but I can’t keep waiting around for my life to happen. Whether that was Elliot or not at my apartment last night, Ryan came back. Ryan is the one here with me.

  “Okay,” he says and I don’t know why but I expected more of a response from him than that.

  I guess I’m being a little self-absorbed to think he should be celebrating. All I’ve said is that I choose him. There’s nothing to back it up right now except my words and lately my word means shit. Really my actions over the past few months have indicated I’m just not available to him emotionally and that needs to change.

  If this is the path I’ve decided to venture down, I need to pull myself together and show Ryan this is really what I want.

  “Are we really going to do this?” he asks and his words sting just a little, but I deserve it. I’ve led him on and I understand that he’s tired of it, but something keeps bringing him back to me.

  I’ve always been a firm believer in fate and everything happening for a reason. It has held fast since meeting Elliot, and while I think some people are brought into our lives for a reason, whether the time is long-lasting or brief, it all matters and it shapes the people we become.

  “Yes,” I answer as I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest. “I’m sorry I’ve been detached from everything. That’s not how I feel about you, even if that’s the impression I gave you.”

  “I know there are no guarantees in life, Nora, so I don’t expect you to say you’ll stay forever. I’m just asking you to give me all of you. If we can make this work, great, if not, at least we can say we gave it our best shot.”

  Ryan’s arms cover my small frame, pulling me tighter against his chest and I feel myself melt into him. He’s comforting and warm and safe, and I know there’s a chance that I could grow to love him. But I can’t help but wonder, is love something that you make happen or is it something that is ingrained in you? Is there one person you are meant to fall in love with? That one person you are meant to find and despite all the obstacles in the world, you can somehow make it all work.

  I know Ryan isn’t this person, but maybe people get sick of waiting around and make the best of what they have. Relationships take work and love is something that takes more effort than most are willing to give. I need to learn to give.


  “I can give you that,” I whisper and I feel Ryan’s lips press to the top of my head in a soft, simple kiss. I don’t even know what I’m saying because inside I know I can’t fully give myself to Ryan. But what I do know is that I can’t continue this lonely existence of wondering what could’ve been with Elliot. I can’t go about my life wondering if he’ll show up, if I’ll find him or if I’ve let life pass me by.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Elliot

  It’s been a few weeks since my stupid fucking quest to find Nora and while I did find her, it didn’t go down exactly as I had hoped. It went the opposite quite honestly, but it made me realize that I had been harboring feelings for someone who had moved on with their life. It’s what I should’ve fucking done years ago yet, I still to this day, think about Nora. I play a million what-if scenarios in my head.

  What if Nora and that guy are broken up? What if I had found her sooner? What if I had approached her and she chose me?

  It’s doing my fucking head in so instead of dealing with it rationally, I’ve booked myself a flight to San Diego, where I plan to visit my parents and Matt and Maggie, and then I’m going to check into an expensive ass hotel, drink, sit on the beach and order room service. It’s either my way of getting over it all or my way of continuing to wallow in my fucking stupidity.

  My flight lands in the morning and I spend the rest of the day visiting with my parents and as we sit down to dinner my mom says, “I’m glad you decided to take some time off work and visit, but are you sure this doesn’t have something to do with that girl?”

  It was hard to keep the truth from my family after Nora’s book was released and not that I think they would have realized it was written about me, but I had kept it to myself for so long it felt like the right time to tell them. It also explained my sudden breakup with Bridgitte, my random appearances in San Diego every August and why I’ve been so unhappy for the past few weeks, past several years even.

  I did it over the phone like a total fucking chump. I couldn’t face them and explain that I looked for a girl for thirteen years only to find her and do absolutely fucking nothing after that. To find her in a relationship; happy and moving forward with her life while I ruined my relationship with Bridgitte, lied to my family and fucked up more times than I care to admit to.

  I think my mother was hurt by my dishonesty, like she wanted me as an adult to share my problems with my family. It wasn’t going to happen and the only reason I’ve admitted it now is because it consumed such a massive part of my life.

  My father claims I ran away from it all by moving to Chicago to attend college. He couldn’t understand why I left my county job as a lifeguard to start over in Chicago, and now I’m even starting to question why the fuck I bailed on that job, too.

  I’ve questioned so many of my choices since finding Nora. I often wonder if I did move to Chicago because I was trying to start over, like I was trying to find a better life, and once I met Nora and lost her, I wanted something more. As if I’m in a constant state of seeking something that never existed in the first place.

  “It doesn’t have to do with that girl,” I mutter in response to my mother’s question. I can hear the annoyance in her tone and the way she says ‘that girl’ indicates what she won’t say out loud. She thinks what I’ve done is stupid. And even as the words leave my mouth I know they’re a lie. Of course it has to do with Nora…everything has to do with Nora.

  “Elliot,” my father says, his voice stern as if he’s speaking to his teenage son and instantly I regret my decision to come here and my decision to ever share this story with them. “I think you need to make some changes in your life beginning with finding that girl,” the way he says ‘that girl’ makes me smirk this time because I can tell he’s mocking my mother. “You’ve left yourself wondering and it’s eating away at you.”

  I look up at him and a small smile forms on his lips and he shrugs his shoulders.

  “What?” I question and he nods his head as my mother lets out a long huff. They obviously disagree on this.

  “Just go and tell her who you are. What’s the worst that can happen? She says she isn’t interested? It can’t get much worse than that,” my father adds.

  “If we’re giving opinions here,” my mother chimes in, “I think you should let it go and move on. It’s not like there’s been some great sign or anything.” She tosses her hand around and rolls her eyes, once again finding the situation idiotic.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mumble hoping to end this conversation right here, but of course that doesn’t happen.

  My parents continue to argue their opinion on the whole thing and it gets increasingly more uncomfortable for me to sit here listening to them discuss my love life or lack thereof. My father still seems to be in favor of me once again hunting Nora down and telling her how I feel and my mother seems to think if I haven’t been given some sign that Nora is still searching for me, I should move on.

  I felt like the book and Nora’s dedication was enough to show she has been looking for me, but after seeing her happy, I felt like I couldn’t ruin that for her. And maybe my appearance wouldn’t have ruined it, but I felt intrusive and strange the moment I saw her with the other guy.

  “Well,” my mother says letting out another long sigh, “do what you want, Elliot, but sitting around and feeling sorry for yourself and being depressed isn’t going to change anything.”

  “Yeah, I know that, Mom,” I respond, barely acknowledging her comment. Can’t I just fucking wallow for a while without all this judgment? Clearly telling them what has been going on was a terrible idea. “I’m gonna get going,” I say as I pick my plate up from the table and put it in the dishwasher.

  I tell my parents goodbye and as I’m leaving my father restates his opinion by saying, “What’s the worst that could happen?” He gives me a smile and shrugs his shoulders once again, and now I’m beginning to feel like I made a mistake not approaching Nora outside her apartment. My father is right, and as weird as the situation felt to show up out of nowhere, what is the worst that could happen?

  This whole thing has gotten to the point of ridiculous. I need to make a decision as to what I want to do because I can’t keep living like this. Going back and forth and the million what-ifs I still have bouncing around in my head.

  I drive over to my hotel; thankful I decided to book it a few nights earlier than I planned because staying with my parents right now would be brutal.

  I walk up to check in, mindless and completely lacking focus on anything. I hand the desk clerk my credit card and give her my name, not paying attention to anything around me. I hear her talking but I don’t respond and then she calls my name, “Mr. Munro, your card,” she says holding my credit card out to me.

  “Sorry. Thanks,” I respond looking up to take the card from her and that’s when I see it: Nora’s book. It’s sitting on the counter right in front of me. It’s placed on a stand, like it’s on display rather than like someone is reading it. It’s not behind the counter. It’s on the counter.

  I take the book from the stand and open it, and once again the desk clerk starts talking but it’s muffled as if I’m under water. Everything seems to move in slow motion as I open the book and read the note that is signed inside. It says: “Thanks for welcoming me for all those years. Nora Mills.”

  With the book still in my hand and the fucking room spinning, I begin to walk toward the exit of the hotel. The desk clerk is calling my name, eventually coming from behind the counter to stop me from leaving.

  “Sir, you can’t take the book,” she says sternly, removing it from my hand and I stand there trying to process what the hell is happening. Again Nora is back in my life.

  I feel lightheaded and I can’t seem to form the words I need as I walk back toward the counter. The clerk has left in a huff, returning to her spot behind the counter and when I reach her, the annoyed look on her face says she’s done dealing with me.

  The lobby of the hotel now se
ems unusually loud and there’s a line forming behind me as guests wait to check in.

  “Sir, you’re going to have to step aside. There are other guests waiting and I’ve already checked you in. Your room is ready,” the desk clerk states simply and waits for me to move.

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I say, trying to think of what to say next. I can’t just blurt out that I’m Elliot from the book, because first of all the character’s name isn’t even Elliot, so clearly that wouldn’t make any sense and second, this girl already thinks I’m fucking crazy.

  I pause for a few seconds and the clerk looks behind her in hopes of someone coming to her rescue so I quickly ask, “The author of this book, she’s been to this hotel?”

  “Yes, sir,” she says, but her tone is filled with annoyance. “She came every year for twelve years. Now can you please step aside.” Her request is now a demand more than a question and I do as she asks.

  I’m not sure what I should do now, because if this isn’t some kind of fucking sign, I don’t know what is. There are a shitload of beachfront hotels in San Diego and somehow I show up at the same hotel Nora came to while she was looking for me.

  In a foggy haze of confusion and disbelief, I get back in my car and drive to Matt and Maggie’s house. It’s a little after nine and I text him as I pull into the driveway. They’re both still up so I head to the front door and before I can ring the bell, Matt opens the door.

  “I thought we were getting together tomorrow?” Matt says as I walk through the door, a confused look on his face.

  Without answering him, I walk through the house and into the kitchen, grabbing a beer for both of us from the fridge; I sit down at the kitchen table. Matt pulls out a chair and sits down across from me as Maggie walks into the room. She’s wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants with her hair in a ponytail. She looks tired and I feel like an asshole for just showing up out of nowhere. She pulls a chair out from the table and slips into it, resting her elbows on the tabletop.