Remember Me.....

Time to say goodbye

The sun was shining and the sky was blue... in her mind, it sounded like an old song she knew.  This, though, wasn't an enjoyable song. This was real life, HER real life.  The conversation with those people - she refused to call them her family, had been hurtful but yet, oh so very annoying. The only consolation?  She'd never had to see them again.   The solicitor Tom had engaged had been efficient, competent and every bit as ruthless as she'd hoped.  Now, inheritance intact and safely under her control, she had a new life.  A new life that needed the closure of an old chapter to fully enjoy.

Tom, of course, had been every bit as amazing as she'd ever hoped he could be. From the moment he'd floored Steven to this morning, when he'd brought her breakfast in bed.

Truthfully? She never wanted to see Angry Fighting Tom again.  The way it made her feel, though?  She would never stop holding THAT close. 

Protected, loved, cherished, valued.  All the words that she would never have imagined applied to her.  Now she knew her memory would never fully return, Jack Grant had been right about that, she wished her so-called family had also stayed as a blank void.  

They hadn't - and neither had the fact that her parents had died both in reality and in her heart.  Their premature demise causing this whole debacle in the first place.  But they weren't, in fact, her parents, were they?   So now, on this bright Monday morning, six months, and a lot of soul searching later,  she'd - they'd - come back just once more. This time, to say goodbye. 

"Do you want me to come over with you?" Tom interrupted her thoughts gently, laying a hand on her arm.  She shook her head, taking his hand and pressing it to her cheek.  She closed her eyes and took a breath before she answered.

"No, no thanks.  I need to do this alone.  Not because I don't want to be with you, darling, but because I don't want to share YOU with them.  They don't deserve it." she sounded more harsh than she actually felt.  Tom shook his head with a small sigh. He could see the veneer of self-protection coming down again over her beautiful eyes.

"It wasn't their fault, love. They didn't ask to be killed." he said softly, aware that he was on dangerous ground. Through the months the only thing they'd disagreed on - in his head because he would never have voiced it to her - had been their motives in not telling her.  He just had to try and keep her from spiralling into a hatred that might end up consuming her.

She looked at her hands, gripping the flowers she'd bought on impulse at the service station  half an hour ago. "I know. Sorry.  I'm all over the place.  One minute, I hate them, the next? I miss them.  Turns out, I never really knew them.  Or my so-called family." she paused and looked at him, "but I have my own - real - family now. Us and your parents and your sisters.  Especially your sisters," she smiled and reached over, kissing his cheek.  "I'll be ok,  I just need to do this. I won't be long."

As she climbed out of the car, stiff from the extended journey the previous day, Tom watched, eyes full of concern.  She'd hardly shed a tear after the initial confrontation, instead channelling the hatred of these so-called siblings, who seemingly resented her beyond reason, into the need to start again. Rebuild her life anew.  Was that healthy, he wondered.  Should she really deny the feelings that were obviously raging?  Only time would tell, but whatever happened, he would be with her.  He would always be with her.  

Eve walked slowly over to the plot.  It was a well-kept cemetery.  Neat grass, neat shrubs, neat headstones.  The very epitome of monied chic.  Everything that her 'family' seemingly stood for.  Everything she now despised. She took a deep lungful of the autumn air, fresh and clean and purifying.  Slowly, she felt the hatred dissolve and fade away into the clean blue air. Somewhere, she heard the honking of geese as they flew south to their other - winter - life.  Looking up, she saw the dark triangle of dots as it passed overhead. Pointing the way.  For them. For her.