“No, you don’t,” he admits. “These men will never stop now that they know you’re here.”
“At this point I would rather risk it,” I hiss. With pounding feet, I pass them both but Arek’s hand catches my arm.
“One thing,” he says sincerely, “one thing can open up your memory and if that happens, Willow, they will take you. The Prophets and Powers won’t care that you aren’t Remy. They will take you and place you in the Cellar. Do you understand what that means? You will be surrounded by criminals with more power than you understand.”
My voice is an angry growl, “Who are you to me, Arek? Why did you give me this painting? Who are the Prophets or the Powers?! Tell me something . . . anything!”
They are silent until finally Sassi looks at Arek. “It’s time. We got what we needed. She spoke to Leigh and she’s with us. We won’t let anyone come near her and you know that, despite what she does or doesn’t know.” She places a hand on his shoulder and surprisingly his tension drops.
“You gave me that painting?” I ask.
Sassi grins, “It was his anniversary gift to you.” In that moment, when watching his face, the answer is clear. This man who seems to fear nothing, doesn’t know how to handle the situation in front of him. I try to swallow, but all I get is air. Sassi continues, “A wedding anniversary.”
Arek crosses his arms and rests his back against the nearest wall, but his chest rises uncomfortably while his eyes stay alight. The years of wisdom show in his movements and his reactions. He can handle himself, although this situation seems to challenge him.
The tolling bells of the San Francisco trolleys ring in my mind, along with the squeal of my apartment front door desperately in need of maintenance, and the chitter chatter of kids as boredom made them wiggle from ears to toes. Where were my ruby slippers, or my blue pill that would miraculously carry me back home where every noise has thick roots in my daily routine?
Arek’s eyes tell a story—of what he has gone through or perhaps what he is still going through.
“We were married?” I nearly choke.
Sassi looks at me inquisitively. “Something in you knows.”
“Knows what? No . . .” A bit of cramped laughter escapes my lips.
“He was familiar to you. Strangely felt like you’d known him for years, and even now when he touches you, it is different . . . unlike anything you’ve ever felt.”
It is impossible to argue with her; rather my eyes shuffle from hers to his—although he won’t look at me. Intuitively she grins with a nod. “Something in you knows. And now you’re wondering why? Time allows you so much. Without time we lose possibilities, sit with burdens, never seem to see past our noses . . . Yovu.”
“Yovu?”
“What we call soul mates. He’s yours. Don’t worry, Willow. You have so much more to learn. This dream just means there is no stopping you no matter how much they wish to keep you blind.”
“Soul mate?” I whisper. “If that’s true then why are you trying so hard to stop this?” I ask him.
After a few seconds he reluctantly looks at me. I’m not sure whether the lights are flashing, whether the ground is shaking, or whether it’s him, but it doesn’t matter. When he looks at me, the world stops. Everything Sassi says makes it very clear, as my heart hits the bottom of my stomach.
“It’s not what I want . . .” Arek admits. “Good night, Sassi,” he says as more of an instruction than kindness.
Sassi takes a sip of her water. “Good night.” Her tall silhouette floats out of the room.
“This is all too much,” my voice is breathless.
“I know,” Arek agrees.
After a few moments, I pass him, my shoulder brushing his. Yet his hand reaches out and stops me. My heart flips from the way his eyes stare into mine. This feeling in my chest is strangely addictive.
“There is no way to stop your mind. It is healing, just as your body did. I can’t control it. But it’s my job to protect you. And I will.” There is hesitation, then he continues, “We have a long day tomorrow.”
Without any more words, we slowly wander through the dark halls, back to the room that started everything. A thousand moments forgotten has turned into a thousand questions in my mind.
“So that’s why it was you?” I ask.
“What?”
“You’ve been watching me because I am your wife.”
“Yes.” We reach out at the same time to open the door, and I lay my hand on his. He looks at me.
“But after so many years? Why? Why didn’t you just go on with your life?” I ask.
Unexpectedly, his guard drops. “You’ll always be my wife.”
He stares at me as he pushes the door open to the room. A telling look spreads across his face and my curiosity is overwhelming. “What?” I ask.
“The hardest part was being invisible. Still . . .” He is quiet for a few moments, yet his words don’t seem as calculated as before. “Many times, we would laugh that even though you were Willow, Remy still showed up.”
He wanders over to the dresser and sits on the edge.
“She’s still here—in me?”
“A bit. We watched the way you took care of Rick.” My eyes widen and he nods. “No normal child can kick their mother’s boyfriend out of the house when their mother hasn’t the guts to. Kilon and I had just been discussing our plan to get rid of the guy when I see his clothes flying out the window.”
My voice comes out resilient, a broken child winning just once. “I knew the only thing he would chase was his Super Bowl ring. He didn’t follow his clothes, so I had to chuck the ring.”
Arek smiles, “We didn’t know your plan until he tried to get back in and you had already locked the main door to the apartment building. Then a few minutes later, the cops showed up.”
“George helped me.”
