Forgetting You

CHAPTER FIVE

SARAH

I feel as though I'm dreaming.

None of this is real; he cannot be standing right before my very eyes.

I can feel his disparaging gaze, determined to break me into pieces. His satirical smile haunts me and I can't help but wonder if he is the same person I had known all those years.

He certainly doesn't look the part, he's developed a hard, serious expression across his sharp features. His hair is still pitch black, the strand peeking from his forehead no longer there. Although his jaws are coated with stubble, I can tell that beneath they are most probably clenched. I still doubt myself though, I've waited everyday for 5 years, wondering when he would come, only to find out he's come, but this time, he's not alone.

She's clinging on to his arm, possessively. A typical blonde haired, blue eyed, barbie doll. I could guess she worked as a model, an esteemed fashion stylist or nothing at all. She gives me a sincere smile but I don't reciprocate.

He's engaged.

My brain is fried, my heart, drained of emotion. I am numb to the core; a waft of nostalgia sifts through the air and I can still feel his warm hands on my cheeks, promising me a life of happiness and love in his arms.

My eyelids are spasming, I'm aching to look at him deep within his green irises; I feel the urge to read them but I don't. In some way or another, I don't want this to be real. I'd rather live through a million nightmares than to confront the cold face of reality.

'We've met before.' His voice is deep, callous. He's not the same person, I know he isn't.

I feel trivialised, humiliated. I can almost feel the couple on the nearby table, the bartender, the waiters all sneering at me; I've a sudden urge to run, exit through those doors where people are lining up in the rain just to get a seat inside.

He wouldn't say it, I know he won't.

I can feel Ali's grasp, firm, motionless. I joined hands with him so I could feel if it was real, if this was real. It doesn't help, his fingers twitch slightly, I can almost read his mind; a thousand questions waiting to be answered.

The awkward silence torments me and I hesitate before looking at Adam, his gaze is elsewhere though. He's not looking at me, neither is he looking at Ali.

He's glaring at our intertwined hands, a look of pure detest.

My heart is erratically beating against my chest, I'm sure he can hear it.

'You two have met before?' Ali's voice no longer holds any softness, he's eyeing me carefully. I don't know what to say to him, the words are stuck in my throat.

'I'm a fan of your wife's art.' Adam shifts his mood and there's a slight playfulness to his voice but it's anything but genuine. He's taunting me, I can feel it through his energy.

All eyes are on me, but I can only concentrate on his. His eyes are searching, I can feel ants crawl up my naked calves. There's no sign of weakness, longing, yearning in his cold eyes.

There's no love.

'You draw?' The blonde speaks, too eager for my liking; her accent is strong and well, American.

'Yes.' I feign a smile and to my surprise, I feel a rush of confidence after the words come out.

'I possess all the originals though!' Ali laughs, his back relaxes and he turns toward me, somewhat affectionately. 'After all, I am her biggest fan.'

I smile at how good of a liar he is. He's hated art all his life, now he claims to be a die hard fan, especially of my depressing pieces. At least, I feel a little lighter.

'Shall we get seated?' Adam clears his throat and moves forward, finally the blonde lets go of his arm. His face is expressionless.

There's a smell that travels in the air, it gives me an inexplicable shiver down my spine; I feel my hands start to sweat. It's his scent, fresh, clean and aromatic; with notes of lime and sandalwood.

I'm inhaling too much air, I feel lightheaded, frail.

He's opposite me, a foot apart. I can easily touch him, stroke his fingertips; ease the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His eyes are flickering in every direction, as if he's lost and I desperately want to pull him into an embrace.

'Want some water, honey?'

The gap is closed between us, she puts an arm around his shoulder, rubbing his arm with her hands. She leaves no space for my imagination and I feel any ounce of hope crumble in her palms.

I feel nauseous and dizzy; the pain in my chest intensifies. I abruptly let go of Ali's hand, my own feels paralysed, senseless. I turn around and walk to the exit, ignoring the way I feel Adam's eyes burning into my back.

Why have you come back now?

I can no longer smell his scent, it washes away with the rain pelting above me. I lift my head up towards the sky, droplets fall on my face; tears are pricking my eyes.

I want to scream.