Forget Me Not

Chapter 6

Emma's head was pounding with a newfound clarity as she ripped off the polaroids on the wall. Pictures of her laughing with Dylan, posing with Dylan, just being with Dylan – that all went into the box on the floor, and she didn't even care if she'd smudged fingerprint marks on them this time.

The red haze of anger was still there, ever since she came storming back from the hospital in a flurry of barely-concealed tears, her fists clenched and every fibre of her being wound like a tightrope. And she was like that failed balancing act, with fingers clutching desperately on the rope, trying to hang on even though everything had already spiralled out of control. She was angry with Flo for clearly having led Dylan on; mad at Dylan for trusting her so blindly and furious with herself for losing grasp on the situation so quickly.

Maybe if she'd explained herself better, or said something to trigger his memory, or done something else –

No.

Beneath all that anger, Emma felt a sinking in her heart, something along the lines of resignation. The look on Dylan's face when he talked to her, the look on his face when he talked to her about Flo – that all seemed definitive. He'd made up his mind and there was nothing she could say or do to change it. Even before the accident, he'd always been obstinate as hell, but it seemed like his stubbornness had tripled in recent weeks.

Swallowing the bittersweet twang in her mouth, Emma pulled off his large t-shirt from her clothes hanger and tossed it onto the pile of things on the floor. She was going to miss sleeping in his shirts, but clearly, that was now a thing of the past too.

So absorbed in her task was Emma that she didn't even hear the patter of feet across the hall, until Scout's voice echoed round the corner. " – you should really change the hiding place for your key, leaving it under the mat is not a hiding place and just about the most obvious thing in the world," Scout was saying, before coming to a pause by the doorway. She took one look at the mess in the room and sighed. "Oh, I knew this would happen."

Emma ignored her and chucked another of Dylan's shirts onto the pile.

"I knew it," Scout repeated, dragging a hand through her hair and picking her way slowly across the room towards Emma. "That's why I had Dave look after the baby and came over to look after you. Every trip to the hospital has you coming back looking even worse than before. Emma. Emma," she stopped the other girl, reaching out to stop Emma from moving around.

"I'm fine," Emma sidestepped her and headed across the room to pull open the doors of another cupboard.

"That's what all the people who are not fine say."

"Then what would you rather me say? That the nurse called Flo pretty much convinced him that they're undeniably, irrevocably in love with each other? That Dylan's convinced that I'm the one lying to his face instead of her? That I'm just a stranger to him, someone who he can very well forget, let alone live without?"

"There has to be a way," Scout reasoned, leaning down to pick up one of Dylan's shirts. Casting a brief glance to see if Emma's back was turned, she quickly folded the shirt and surreptitiously placed it back in the closet. "You said so yourself – these things need time."

"I did say that. I just didn't think I was racing against time all this while," Emma added, almost bitterly. Crossing the room, she placed down one of Dylan's books on the pile, before her eyes narrowed as she noticed Scout standing near the closet, in the midst of folding another shirt.

"You're being too pessimistic about this," Scout shook her head when Emma headed towards her. But before Emma could reach for the shirt to throw it back on the floor, she slammed the closet shut, placing a hand out to barricade the door. "Listen," Scout's voice was steady, "love is – a struggle, sometimes. Did you think it was going to be all rainbows and sunshine from the moment you began dating him? There would inevitably be fights, and screaming matches, and misunderstandings; but you work through them all the same. That's part and parcel of what love is," she added softly, looking at Emma with faint understanding in her eyes. "Because if it's not worth fighting for, then maybe it's not worth holding on to."