The Memory of Us: A Standalone Soulmate Romance

by Claire Raye

  “I didn’t give up, Nora. I won’t ever give up on us.”

  Chapter Thirty-One: Elliot

  We eventually head inside and despite having briefly met Nora’s dad before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous now. I hadn’t been nervous when I’d met Bridgitte’s parents and even though I know I can’t compare what I had with her with what I have with Nora, it’s the first thought that pops into my head as Nora closes the front door and calls out, “Dad?”

  Nervous has to be a good sign, right? It means this is important to me and I want this to work. I want her dad to like me.

  “In here,” he calls back, his voice gruff.

  She looks up at me, squeezing my hand as she gives me a nervous smile. I smile back at her, trying to give her the impression that everything’s fine as she leads me down the hall to a huge kitchen at the back of the house.

  “Dad,” she says, as she walks into the room.

  I watch as her father closes the fridge door and turns to face us, that same strange expression on his face as when he opened the front door and saw us standing on his front lawn. As soon as we’d pulled up outside this house, I was transported back to a year ago, when the PI had given me this address and I’d shown up here, hoping this would finally be the day I found her.

  More than ten years after I’d lost her.

  Only I hadn’t found her. Well, I had, but not in the way I realized.

  But her dad’s reaction to seeing me today has left no doubt in my mind that he remembers me showing up here, too. That he knew about our searches for each other and he understands what the two of us standing on his front lawn means

  We’ve found each other.

  After all these years, we’ve finally fucking found each other.

  “Dad,” Nora says again, stepping into the kitchen, her hand in mine, squeezing tightly and a huge smile on her face. “This is Elliot. Elliot, this is my dad, Walter.”

  Her dad turns to me, his face still a mask to what he’s really thinking as he sticks out a hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says, although I can’t tell if he really means it.

  “You too,” I offer, returning his handshake with a smile.

  We drop hands and a silence settles over the room, the three of us standing awkwardly looking at each other. Nora still holds my hand in hers, but she’s fidgeting now and her smile has gone, as though she’s nervous about what comes next.

  “So, Dad, I understand you’ve actually met Elliot before,” she starts, moving closer as she wraps an arm around my waist.

  Her dad looks at me quickly before turning back to his daughter. “Yeah,” he says sharply. “Although I didn’t realize exactly who he was.”

  Nora smiles, but it looks forced as she says, “No, we realize that.”

  Her dad nods once before turning back to the fridge. “Drink?” he asks.

  This whole situation is getting weirder and weirder, an obvious animosity in the room that’s making it hard to relax or figure out exactly how her dad feels about us being here together. Without waiting for an answer from either of us, he grabs a couple of beers and hands us each one.

  “So,” he starts, taking a long pull of his beer. “How’d you end up finding each other then?”

  It’s a simple question but one that’s loaded with so much insinuation, it’s hard to know where to start. I turn to Nora, who smiles at me before turning to her dad. “Elliot read my book,” she says. “He recognized our story and he came to New York to find me.”

  Her dad glances at me before turning back to Nora. “So what’s happening with Ryan?”

  “Dad!” Nora bites out, even as she squeezes my hip.

  “It’s okay, Nora,” I whisper. “It’s a fair question.”

  Nora shakes her head. “No, it’s not,” she says, glaring at her dad. “Ryan and I are over, Dad.”

  He nods curtly as he takes another sip of beer. “So Elliot walks back into your life and that’s it, you just throw Ryan away?”

  Nora exhales, rolling her eyes as she steps away from me, placing both hands on the kitchen counter as she faces her father. “It isn’t like that,” she bites out and I can feel the anger radiating off her. “Ryan and I were over long before Elliot came back into my life, because I’ve never gotten Elliot out of my life.”

  He takes another sip of beer, barely acknowledging her response as he turns to me now. “And what, you’re here to stay now then?”

  I glance at Nora before turning back to him. Trying for a smile, I nod and say, “Yes, I am. I’m in love with your daughter, sir. I have been for the past thirteen years.” It’s the first time I’ve actually voiced my feelings out loud and even though this isn’t the way I wanted to tell Nora, it doesn’t make it any less true.

  “I see,” he says, but I can tell by the way he says it that he doesn’t believe me. “And you know this after one night together over a decade ago?”

  “Dad!” Nora yells again. “Stop! Why can’t you just be happy for us for like five seconds? God!”

  Her dad lets out a long breath before taking another sip of his beer. He watches his daughter like he’s trying to decide how to say whatever’s on his mind, which makes me think whatever it is, it’s not good. Just as I open my mouth to say something, Nora turns to me, takes the beer from my hand and says, “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Nora, wait,” I say, even as she grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the front door.

  “No,” she says without looking back. “We’re not doing this now.”

  I glance back at her dad, who stays in the kitchen, drinking his beer and not saying anything as he watches us walk out of his house. I stupidly hold a hand up as if to wave goodbye, but he doesn’t even acknowledge it and as the front door closes behind us, it suddenly occurs to me that none of this is going to be as easy as we thought.

  “Fuck,” Nora breathes out, dropping my hand as she shoves both of hers through her hair.

  I watch as she paces in a small circle on the front porch, clearly frustrated and pissed off.

  “Hey,” I say, reaching for her. She looks at me, her eyes wide and her jaw clenched. “Come here,” I say, offering her a small smile.

  I pull her into my arms, wrapping them around her as I pull her body into mine. She buries her face in my neck, her hands gripping my hips as we stand in silence on her dad’s front porch.

  “He just needs a second to get used to this,” I eventually say, my mouth at her ear.

  “Why?” comes her muffled voice.

  I exhale, running my hands up and down her back. “It’s different for us, Nora,” I tell her. “This is our story and our love and we both know people have never understood it.”

  She pulls back now, her eyes shiny with tears as she looks up at me. “Maybe we’re wrong?” she whispers, and I watch as a tear falls down her cheek.

  I brush it away with my thumb, shaking my head as I say, “Does this feel wrong to you?”

  “No.”

  I smile, leaning in to kiss her lips. “Then it’s not wrong,” I tell her.

  She presses herself against me, her mouth on mine as she murmurs, “I just wanted him to like you.”

  “I know,” I say, brushing her hair back. “Just give it time though, okay. It’s gotta be a shock for him.” I kiss her again before pulling back, wishing it could’ve been as easy as she’d hoped. “Come on, let’s go do something fun.”

  Nora swipes at her eyes, offering me a small smile. “Okay.”

  Taking her hand, we walk back to the car, Nora sliding in behind the wheel. She starts the car, backing out of the drive in silence. I don’t ask where she’s going and we spend the next ten minutes not talking at all.

  “So, what do you want to do?” she eventually asks, glancing over at me.

  I smile, reaching over to rest my hand on her thigh. “Wanna head into the city, maybe do some touristy shit again?” I ask.

  She shrugs, even as she says, “Okay.”

  I reach for the radi
o, turning up the volume, just to have something to fill the silence in the car as Nora navigates her way into the city. After she’s parked, we both get out of the car and I walk around to her side, slipping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

  “I could eat something,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple.

  “And maybe a drink,” she mutters as we walk out of the parking garage.

  We end up in an Irish pub in the South End and it’s not until we’re sitting down with a pint each in front of us that I reach for her hands across the table and say, “So, you wanna talk about it?”

  Nora’s eyes meet mine and I can see the sadness in them. “I don’t even know what to say at this point,” she starts. “I really thought he’d be happy for us.”

  “Maybe he just needs some time to get used to the idea?” I suggest.

  She shakes her head. “He’s had time. He’s known about you. He’s read our book. He’s…”

  “Yeah, but babe,” I say, gently squeezing her hands. “He hasn’t lived us, has he? Not like we have.”

  She lets go of one of my hands and takes a sip of her beer. “Do you think we’re making a mistake?” she asks, her voice quiet as her eyes drop. It’s that question again.

  I reach over and tilt her face back to mine. “Do you?” I ask, throwing her question back at her.

  She licks her lips, her eyes searching my face. For a second, I start to doubt her, start to wonder if she’s going to say yes and that this has all been one giant fuck up. But then she shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “I don’t.”

  I smile at her, brushing my thumb across her bottom lip before pulling my hand back. “Good, because neither do I. We just need to give people time, Nora,” I continue. “But that doesn’t mean we let them make us question what we’re doing or what we’re feeling, okay?”

  She finally smiles back at me. “I love how sure of us you are,” she says, her eyes locked with mine.

  My smile widens as I half stand, leaning across the table to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I’ve spent twelve years looking for the woman who stole my heart on a beach in San Diego, Nora,” I tell her. “I love you,” I repeat. “And I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  I feel her hand as it slides to the back of my neck, holding me against her as she whispers, “I love you too.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Nora

  It’s been three days since my father decided to embarrass me in front of Elliot. I’m way too old to have him shame me for my choices and looking back now, I should have approached that whole situation differently. I should’ve told him I had found Elliot and I didn’t want his opinion about it, but instead I hoped he would’ve been happy for me. I’m moving forward with continuing things with Elliot without my father’s input because it’s not needed.

  He can hold a grudge for the next five years or ten years or whatever he wants, but he knows eventually he’ll need to get on board. Things aren’t going to change with Elliot and me. At least I don’t want them to. I understand how hard this is going to be, but I’m willing to put in the effort. I just wish my dad was as well.

  I do know another person who will be thrilled with the news and once she passes it along, it will spread like wildfire. My agent has been waiting for this day since I turned my manuscript into her and along with her, all my readers have been, too. There’s just something about a love story coming true that pulls at the heartstrings of people, how as a society we root for the broken and lost to find that one someone.

  Elliot and I have found each other.

  We’re heading to my agent’s office today and with book two already in the works along with an additional three-book contract, things are feeling a little better. I have plotted the rest of mine and Elliot’s story and already have ideas for what will come next. Finding him was quite possibly the best thing for my mental health and also my writing. I feel empowered and creative, and Elliot’s words continue to repeat in my head.

  write what you love.

  “Are you ready to meet the person who made all of this happen?” I ask Elliot as I finish slipping on my shoes.

  “Absolutely. Without your book we never would’ve found each other.”

  When I wrote what I loved with the encouragement of Alice’s words mixed with Elliot’s words tattooed on my arm, I found him. I stopped looking and I let my words bring him to me. Our story was told and people responded, catapulting my career, a career I longed for, and my life slowly came together.

  We walk out the door, Elliot slipping his hand into mine as we head down the street toward the subway.

  “You know I’ve sort of met your agent too,” Elliot shares, a smile gracing his lips casually. “After I read your book, I emailed her and asked where to find you.”

  “You did?” I ask, shocked by his creativity and his equally stalker-like behavior that I once exhibited.

  I guess trying to find each other really didn’t bring out the best in us and now that we’re here, it all feels very over the top. Something that the outside world screamed at us, something people told us was stupid, now does feel like that in some way. With how easily my book brought us together, it’s something I wish I’d thought of earlier rather than traipsing around the United States in search of him.

  “I did and I also emailed your publishing company too, but I drew the line at showing up at their office and deciding to harass the admin at the front desk. Something about that felt like bordering on…”

  “Stalking?” I say, finishing his thought and smirking at him playfully.

  “I was trying to think of a better word, but yeah.” He teases me, shooting a wink my way as he holds the door open and I step through.

  As soon as we walk through the door, Melanie, the front desk admin, doesn’t immediately look up. I know she’s waiting for us to walk up to her and explain what we’re here for, but I don’t need to do that. I usually walk straight through to the bank of elevators and hit the button for the third floor that will take me to my agent Sara’s office. But today I stop at the front desk, because there’s no way Melanie is going to let us get by without meeting Elliot.

  Like everyone else in this office, she was obsessed with my story, with mine and Elliot’s story, and would probably be pretty pissed if I walked on by without introducing her. Even though my book is billed as fiction, people wanted to know where my inspiration came from and I’ve shared it many times. It felt as if that real life connection only added to people’s love for the book.

  The trouble with working for a big publisher is that everyone wants their books published by them and the amount of people off the street who show up here with their book in hand is extensive. Melanie still doesn’t look up despite us standing directly in front of her and I clear my throat loudly.

  “Do you have an appointment?” she asks, an air of annoyance flitting out of her words. I get it. Most of the people who come in here don’t have an appointment.

  “I don’t, but I would like to speak to Sara Waters. I wrote this book.” I intentionally stop short of finishing my sentence because I’ve seen her in action and I can’t wait for her to start her spiel. I’m already grinning knowing I’m totally screwing with her.

  “If you are interested in having Miss Waters review your manuscript please refer to the submission guidelines listed on our website. We do not respond to in-person inqu—” She stops short of finishing her thought when she looks up and sees me standing in front of her. “Nora, seriously? Do you enjoy annoying me? Just go up. Sara’s in her office.” She shakes her head letting out an exasperated sigh, but also accompanies it with a sweet smile.

  “You’re getting pretty good at that script. You didn’t even look up till you got to ‘inquiry’. You used to look up at ‘submission guidelines’. See, it’s good that I stopped today. Keeps you on your toes.”

  She now looks over at Elliot and it takes her a second to register that it’s not Ryan. Everyone here knew Ryan. They knew I ha
d chosen to stop searching, so to see me standing here with someone else has to send up a few red flags.

  Melanie looks back at me, an almost questioning look on her face, coupled with an awkward confusion. She doesn’t want to ask the question. She’s not like my dad who demanded to know what happened to Ryan.

  “So, I stopped by today because I wanted to introduce everyone to Elliot,” I say, letting my words sink in and it takes Melanie a few seconds to process what I’ve just told her. She’s silent, looking at me with eyes slightly wider, her mouth open just a little and when she finally catches up, the squeal she lets out causes everyone in the lobby to look at us.

  She flies out from around the desk, shrieking and hopping around. Her excitement is contagious and I’m grinning from ear to ear. When she flings herself into my arms, she catches me off guard nearly knocking me over, but I don’t care.

  This is the reaction I hoped most people would have even if they thought my exhaustive search was stupid, even if they didn’t think I’d find him. I wanted people to believe in the power of love, in the efforts of fate and hold out that hope. I wanted them to see that sometimes the universe works with you even if it takes thirteen years.

  “Oh my god!” she screeches, flapping her hands in front of her. “You’re Elliot? The real Elliot? I totally fell in love with you after reading Nora’s book. Like seriously, perfection. You’re amazing!”

  He seems taken aback which is what I expected. While he’s confident and carries himself with control, this is overwhelming and this will all be strange for him.

  Everyone we meet will think they know him and in a way they do, but it’s not real life they’ve found him in. It’s the romanticized version I created in a book, in a character. He’s without flaws and without anxiety or worries, he’s without the fear of being judged and questioned. He’s a deeply woven character of the guy I met on the beach thirteen years ago mixed with qualities of perfection.

  I never intended to create something that was unattainable. It was just the way the story flowed, the way the words came to me in a cathartic and comforting manner even if they weren’t the reality. It was fiction, fact-based fiction, but it was still fiction and I have to remind people of that. I even have to remind myself, too.