Chapter 5

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Emma dragged in a deep breath and forced herself to meet Dylan's angry gaze. The door swung shut behind him as he rolled the wheelchair further into the room, and she was vaguely glad of the fact that there was no one else around to listen in on the argument they were probably going to have.

"Nothing," she said calmly, setting the scarf down and shifting away from the table. "Just – you know, paying you a visit."

His eyes narrowed even further, not buying her lie at all. "What did you leave on my table?" He reached down to roll himself towards the bed and Emma found herself automatically taking a step forward to help him. But he veered away from her when she tried to reach for him. "Don't touch me," he said brusquely, and the sharpness in his tone was enough to send her falling a step back. He pushed himself onto the bed, propping his injured leg carefully on a pillow before turning to face her. "What're you doing in my room?"

"I told you – "

"I want the truth," his voice was tight with frustration. "Why do you keep leaving random things in my room? First the plants, then the post-it note, the jacket and now this," he let out a bitter laugh when he noticed her surprised expression. "You didn't think I was dumb enough to not realise, did you?"

No, of course not – Emma knew that he'd figure it out sooner or later. She just always thought that he'd question her about it the very moment he figured it out, and not wait till now. She knew him like the back of her hand, but ever since the accident happened, she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Every step of the way was like treading on thin ice, and Emma couldn't tell when it would all collapse under her feet.

Dylan's jaw clenched when she stayed silent, and he let out an aggravated sigh. "What the hell do you want from me?"

There was something so painfully hostile in his tone that she felt the final thread of her patience snap. One could only be silent for so long, and suddenly, she felt all her own frustrations pour out of her at that moment.

"I just want you to remember, okay?" She fired back, and it was clear that her unexpected outburst had surprised him because he fell silent. "Is that such a bad thing? I am helping you to remember what you forgot. To remember who you forgot. Yes – so maybe I am a little pushy about it, maybe I'm going about it in the wrong way. But I'm trying to help you."

"By messing with my head?" He shook his head angrily. "By tricking me into believing that there was something between us when nothing ever happened in the first place?"

Emma's mouth fell open. "What?"

"You come into my life and try to make something that never existed exist..." he trailed off, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair before glaring at her. "I don't know what you're playing at, but you're driving a rift between my girlfriend and me."

His words were so unexpected that, for a moment, Emma quite thought she'd misheard. "Your girlfriend," she repeated at last, finding it impossible to say anything else.

"Yes – Flo."

"Flo," the mere thought of that was so ludicrous and painful all at once that she didn't quite know what to make of it. "Flo's your new girlfriend?"

"She's always been my girlfriend," he let out an exasperated, impatient sigh. "We've been dating for a few years now."

Confusion pounded in Emma's head and she couldn't help but stare at him like he'd completely lost his mind. "What're you talking about? When I met you, you weren't dating anyone," a sudden thought struck her and she looked at him suspiciously. "Did she tell you this?"

"Of course, she – " he paused, eyes narrowing as Emma's words finally sank in. "What're you implying?"

"Did it ever occur to you that she might've been lying – "

"Why would Flo lie to me?" He was furious now and normally, Emma would've backtracked, used a calmer voice to sort out the misunderstanding between them. But he wasn't entirely the same person she knew any longer, and she was too fired up to be calm about things.

"I don't know," she returned coldly, before giving him a pointed look. "Why don't you ask her?"

"Right, because you're the one I should trust, instead of my girlfriend," he shot back. "If she's not my girlfriend, then why do I remember her?"

Emma froze. "What?"

"I remember her," he repeated, his voice more levelled now, calmer, and he leaned back against the pillow. "I remember bringing her to the movies, I remember going on a camping trip with her once. She was valedictorian of her class, and we planned to go to college together. I remember all of that."

Emma paused, her mind working rapidly. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of her memory, she vaguely recalled a conversation she'd had with Dylan when they talked about their past, and the people they'd once dated. The specific names had never come up, but she distinctly remembered him talking about a long-distance relationship that had never worked out, feelings that had never quite faded.

Until he met her, Emma, and that other girl had become a part of history.

Or was it the other way round now?

With a pounding heart and empty lungs, Emma stared at Dylan and wondered if somehow, their fates had twisted around. She didn't know what had happened. But somehow, some way or other, Flo had managed to convince him that she was the constant in his life. And that all the gaps, all the loopholes in his memory – they all didn't matter because the constant never changed.

"That's not true," Emma's voice was strained when she finally spoke. "What Flo told you – that's not the truth."

His eyes narrowed. "What're you saying?"

"I – I don't know what she told you," Emma had never found herself quite at a lost for words before, but she was now. Nothing made sense, and she could physically feel them drifting apart bit by bit, losing him with every second that ticked by. "But it's not true – I...I'm the one you've been dating. We're – "

"You need to leave," he cut her off coldly, and Emma stopped.

"What?"

"Leave," he repeated, the expression on his face impassive this time. "I don't know what I can say to get this through your head. Maybe – I don't know, maybe we were friends, maybe you knew me some way or other. But I remember Flo," he added, meeting her gaze squarely. "I'm dating her – and that's the present. That's the future. Just because you're stuck in the past doesn't mean everyone else has to be as well."

Emma's throat was dry as she listened to him. It felt final this time, like his words were shards of glass raining down in the tense silence. It felt like he was closing one chapter of her life for good. Locking that chapter up, never to be opened again.

Swallowing painfully, she took a step back from his bed and averted her eyes. "Fine," she said quietly, digging her fingernails so tightly into her palm she half thought her skin might break and bleed. "If that's the kind of lie you want to live, then – that's your choice."

Without waiting for him to say another word, she spun on her heels and blindly pushed her way out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.


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