But the loneliness. That was real. And the first time she’d felt it in weeks. Seeing Ben and Megan standing over her, working together in their secret way of communication. It was so solid. So honest. As if everything they did—they did together. How wholesome it must feel for them.
That was what she needed the most. She breathed in deep, forcing the pain away from her chest. She needed to fight these emotions that kept her prisoner. It was the only way to get better.
On her own.
The next morning Megan proposed to move Liz into a fully furnished rental her firm had recently listed. Thanks to Megan’s strong relationship with the developer, they allowed Megan’s “immediate family” to rent the unit for a minimum of one month before they put it back on the market.
Liz knew she couldn’t avoid Matt that long. But at a minimum, a few days was more than necessary for both of them.
The offer didn’t come from nowhere. Liz had thanked them for the stay for the night but insisted that she probably should go back to her brothers, or get a hotel for a few days. The idea of having her disappear must have crossed their mind because Megan immediately offered the vacant townhouse, until she was ready to go home.
Two days into her new living arrangement, Liz was starting to control her memories. Recalling those she focused on. But it didn’t come easy. She picked up a pattern in her state of mind when memories would come. She needed to be calm, patient and by no means hasty or stressed. Her mind’s demands were not easy to meet.
Liz and Marcus had taken a trip back to the storage unit to bring some things back to Liz’s temporary home. He wanted to help shuffle through. But Liz insisted on giving fate a chance, and grabbed a few random boxes, and two small furniture pieces.
“I just wanted to make this place my own for as long as I’m here, you know?” She told him when they were back at her place later that night. So far, they’d only gone through one box together and placed the one lamp she grabbed at the last minute on the side table by the pale blue sofa. She set her tea down on the oversized marble coffee table and sat back, exhausted.
“Well it’s a good thing we kept them all, then.”
Liz caught a flash of hesitation after Marcus spoke the words, as if he weren’t sure about them. She was about to question why they wouldn’t, when a harsh memory invaded her otherwise peaceful mind frame.
Her and Marcus are in their parent’s house. The same vision she had just a few days ago when she was with him. Only this time, she heard everything. Liz stood surrounded by boxes and various pieces of furniture. Many of them more vivid in this vision. She had been crying. Her throat ached and she was screaming at Marcus. Hurtful words, accusations being thrown between the two of them. No. Not between the two of them. Just Liz at her brother.
It was painful to relive, but not a shock, thankfully. Since Marcus was honest to a fault with her.
She pulled herself out this time. The raw memory didn’t fade like all the others. She looked up at her little brother. Her eyes burned.She loved him. She loved him insanely. She loved him enough to pounce on him and tackle him to the bare floor.
The way she used to when they were kids.
But along with that love that she remembered clearer than day, came an unfair crushing reality of how she’d left him nearly two years ago.
She stood and burst into an uncontrollable cry. She looked at Marcus, whose face was now covered with concern. She opened her mouth—an apology she desperately needed to get out caught in her throat. “Marcus…” she choked, and before she could even attempt another word, he crossed to her and pulled her in. Her brother’s warm embrace was the painkiller she desperately needed that moment. She closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long he’d held her, but it was enough to get her breathing normally again.
“Oh, that’s definitely my sister’s hug.” He grasped her shoulders and stepped back, studying her. A warm smile formed on his blurry face. She quickly rubbed her eyes to look at him once more. Then threw herself at him again.
“I’m so sorry, Marc.”
“Oh, come on Lizzy, you know I never take you seriously,” he joked. He was good at that. And though she could argue that he never did in fact take her seriously, she knew he’d been hurt. “Don’t worry about me—about us. You need to take a minute. Sit, I’ll make you something.” He guided her back to the paper-rough sofa.
She wiped at her tears and sat back down, staring into space for probably longer than any normal human could possibly handle. Marc had returned with a plate of food for her and a glass of water. She hadn’t even heard him bustling in the open kitchen. It was her entire childhood and young adult life that was now all clear. If she sat here and tried, she could recall every memory up until Matt.
All memories of him were still hazy. She absently admired the lamp placed by the sofa. She ran a finger over the tarnished golden tube, remembering its shine from when it lived in her father’s den. She smiled at it until she noticed a small crack on the edge of the glass shade. She reached for it and another memory struck her.
“Gone, I want it all gone. I don’t want any of it.”
“Liz, you’re just angry—you don’t even know what some of this stuff is…” Marcus tried to argue with her.
“I said throw it out,” she barked. She hadn’t noticed it before, but Matt was there too. He’d been standing by the entrance, holding some oversized trash bags and talking with a truck driver who had come to pick up certain furniture pieces for donation. She remembered his eyes when he watched her in her frenzy, tossing random objects into trash bags and boxes. And the lamp, she tossed it with too much force, knowing she could break the fragile thing. But she also remembered her pausing to see the damage she caused, and the rest of the memory faded out.
She turned to her brother, seeing him in a new light. “Marc, you went back for all the stuff? I watched them drive away with everything.” Liz was impressively shocked. Not that her brother would do something so sentimental, but the fact that he’d been so careful and organized about it. He somehow managed to let her think everything was gone. Rented an enormous storage unit and managed to keep up its monthly payments. That in itself was the biggest shocker.
Marcus chuckled uncomfortably and shrugged. “I wish I could take the credit. But that was all Matt.”
“Matt?” her pleased expression faded and was replaced with a spark somewhere between her stomach and chest.
“Yeah, he…well he was there that day—with us at mom and dad’s—when you insisted every last item in that house get tossed.” He raised his eyebrows as if to point out her nonsense. “And I didn’t know this at the time, but apparently he paid the guys from the church to take the boxed items and a few of the furniture pieces to a storage unit.” He held his hands up, “Not everything though. A lot of their furniture did in fact need to go.” Marcus glanced at the unopened boxes by the entrance. “Anyway, he’d given me an extra key and told me to keep it between us for a while.” Her brother shrugged.
She nodded slowly. “He knew I’d regret it eventually. That I’d miss them and want to shuffle through these things again.”
