He wasn’t sure how most people react to a realization like that, but he had been strangely calm. In his mind, instead, were the remnants of a dream he had right before he regained consciousness. In that dream, he was taking his pet elephant out for a walk in the woods. The elephant had been at least ten times his size but was strangely gentle and abiding to him, following him like a shadow. As he walked beside his elephant he was casually stroking its enormous flappy ears and whistling to a familiar tune. Later, he almost trips over and saw that his shoe laces were untied. He kneeled over to retie his laces and upon getting up, he realized he was all alone in the woods, his arms reaching out to emptiness. He had lost his elephant.

The next morning, when Jun woke up, it was to bright yellow walls and the stinging smell of sanitation. A moment later, a doctor was checking his heartbeat and a nurse was taking his temperature. He was advised to stay in bed and was told that his loss of memory was probably temporary; everything else about him was fine except for that broken leg. Jun could only nod. What else could he have said?

For the next few days, all he did was lie in bed, take his medicine and eat his meals. Every night, he has the same dream. And every night, he losses his elephant.

On the third day, a woman in a tight pony tail carrying and a large Prada bag walked into his room. Her heels clicked sharply on the white floors as she made her way to his bed. She dropped herself onto the chair beside him and it was one long uncomfortable minute later before she finally spoke.

“Jun.” She uttered. He was slightly taken back by the distaste in her voice. He took a moment to wonder if this was how his name was usually spoken in the past.

She continues to inform him in a tight voice that she was his sister and she was here only because the hospital had called her up. She didn’t hesitate to hide her dislike for him as she updates him on her knowledge of his situation and brushing it off with a mere “someone will soon come and get you” as if all he lost was his wallet instead of his memory. Her lack of concern was upsetting.

She had left as soon as she arrived, but before letting him on the fact that although they were family, they might as well have been strangers and he had been the one who tore them apart, leaving him wondering what is it exactly he had done that was so unforgiving.

Moments later, a young girl in school uniform turned up at his door with a beaming smile, in her hands a bunch of daisies just slightly less cheery than her smile. She had sat down beside him and held his hands in her own small ones and said: You’ve done all you can to help me get back into school, so I will keep doing well. Similarly, I hope you can stay strong and get well very soon. Let’s work hard together!

Just minutes after she left, a young man just about his age arrived with a large fruit basket. He carefully placed the basket on the table beside his bed and stood a distance away as he spoke to him. Jun learned that this young man was a co-worker and he had came to visit on behalf of his other co-workers. Before he left, he gave a small smile and wished him good health before adding that he hopes he is well enough to come back to work soon. An afterthought, Jun could tell.

For the next 3 days, what followed was a stream of visitors. Friends, acquaintances, ex-lovers and even distant relatives. From each person, he learnt bits of pieces of what and how he had been in the past. Each bit entirely different, yet seemingly similar.

As he sat in hospital bed, he couldn’t help but feel that he was looking at this entire scenario playing out for him from behind a television screen. His mind was busy trying to piece all the memories together while sorting them out, deciding which memories goes where, where they should be stored, what they should be categorized as. He could almost feel those memories slowly building up like a Lego city in his head, only everything is disjointed and disorganized. One piece isn’t fitting nicely with the other, so what he got was a lot of individual blocks, each one disconnected from the rest.

At the end of the third day, the visiting abruptly stops. A headache had crept up on him, and he suddenly notices he was exhausted.

That night, again, he dreamt of taking his pet elephant out for a walk. They were walking next to each other with Jun humming to a familiar tune. Every once in awhile, he will throw a glance towards where his elephant walks to make sure it was still around. That night, the walk seem to stretch on longer than usuals. Then he trips over and he knows that his shoe laces had come untied. He was reluctant to retie those laces, knowing that his elephant will disappear the moment he gets up. But he knows that if he doesn’t, he will keep tripping. Sighing, he bends over and retie those offensive laces knowing there’s not much he can do to change this dream. Much to his surprise, when he was done, his elephant was exactly where he left it.

Jun scratched his head. What exactly has changed? Looking closer, he realized this was a different elephant all along.

She threw a quick panicked glance over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the antique grandfather clock sitting at the back of the apartment before sprinting out the door. 9.30am, and ticking. She was going to be so late.

Outside it was devastatingly hot, the sun beating down mercilessly on the waking city. Grace dug into her purse for her sunglasses as she continued her sprint towards the train station.

By the time she stopped at the last crossing before the station, her face was flushed and her forehead was beaded with perspiration. Her shirt was sticking to her back and she could feel a headache slowing making it’s way across her temples.

Grace was desperate to get out of the sun.

Tapping her heels impatiently on the burning pavement, she thought she saw a silhouette sauntering across the road towards her direction. She lifted her sunglasses and squinted. For a moment, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.

A man was trying to cross the busiest road in the city – at the busiest hour of the day, when the pedestrian light was red. Tired of living, aren’t you? Grace thought. Or just very drunk? She couldn’t help wincing as the sounds of horns blaring and tires screeching filled the air.

The man didn’t stop.

As he neared, Grace couldn’t help noticing something terribly wrong about the man. He was walking with a broken stagger, almost as if the bones in his legs were broken. His arms swung freely around him as he dragged his heavy body across the road. His skin was deathly pale, gray beyond ash, and those eyes – those empty bloodshot eyes that Grace knew would haunt her if she stared at them any longer.

She tore her attention away and shook her head in disgust. What is this lunatic trying to do?

Just as she picked out her cell phone to dial for the police, a loud “thump” made her jump. A Toyota hadn’t been able to stop in time and had slammed onto the man, throwing him at least 3 feet back from the impact. Grace gasped as her fingers started dialing.

The driver, driven with panicked, rushed out of the car to check on the fallen man. By this time, the entire road was jammed with angry drivers and frustration filled the thick air. Grace saw the driver leaning over the man to check if he was conscious.

In a split second, the fallen man had his arms around the driver and was pulling him by the hair towards his face. What followed was a blood-chilling scream as the fallen man sunk his teeth into the driver’s face.

Grace stared at the horror that was played before her.

Screams rung in her ears and terrified footsteps erupted all around her, but Grace couldn’t move a step. She was frozen in shock, the stench of blood immediately slamming her full force in the face. The panic that enveloped her was so raw that she could feel it eating into her.

Grace watched as the man continued to feed off the driver, whom by now was slumped on the road in a pool of his own blood.

Then, the sirens came. Relief flooded her as help arrived. Turning back to the scene where the horror had taken place, she was shocked to realize that the man was gone. For a moment, she panicked.

Suddenly, she felt someone grab her arm. She whirled and found herself staring into those empty, bloodshot eyes…

Her eyelids flew open and Grace could feel her heart slamming against her ribs. Those eyes. Grace willed herself to breath normally as the faint ticking of the clock outside filled silence. What a nightmare.

She pulled herself out of bed and made her way towards the washroom to clean up. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimspe of the old grandfather clock.

9.30am, and ticking.

Shit. She was going to be so damned late!

She closed her eyes and released a shaky breath. She was so, so tired. She wished there was someone to hold her hand right now, and tell her that everything is going to be fine. But she knew there will be no one, and that things won’t be fine. She’d tried so hard – but all her efforts have been futile.

She knew exactly what Jun would tell her if he knew what she was thinking right now. But Jun was no longer here.

Funny how life works. Last month this time, her life had been perfect. And now, she felt like an animal being forced into a corner. There’s nowhere else to run.

It never occurred to her that she will ever take this path. To her, suicide was a coward’s choice. If you have the courage to die, surely you have the courage to live. But she has had enough of living. There was nothing else worth living for. There was too much bitterness in her heart, and it was eating her up. She wants this all to end.

She dropped her shawl on the floor. Gingerly, she peeled her cell phone from her jeans pocket and sat it beside her shawl. Then her watch and finally her Cartier bracelet. When she was done, she managed a humorless laugh. All these redundant gestures. Would all this matter when she ended up in a bloody pile down on the streets below? What the hell exactly was she doing? The irony of it was laughable.

Clutching the necklace that was sitting on her chest, she took a step forward, slipping out of her shoes as she did. The concrete was cold beneath her bare feet, a stinging reminder that she won’t be feeling any more of this in the next minute. The street below blurred for a moment as she struggled to maintain her balance on the narrow ledge.

This was more difficult than she had imagined. She tightened her grasp around her necklace and willed her racing heart to slow down.

Just one more step, and it’ll be over.

Closing her eyes, she leaned forward…

He tried to move but the splitting pain that erupted at his side convinced him that it was a better idea to stay still. He was lying on a stretcher, waiting to be rolled into the ambulance since he was obviously nowhere inside a hospital. A girl in a white paramedic uniform was standing beside him one hand adjusting to the machine beside him, her other hand resting on his shoulder to keep him down. Right, as if he was going to jump on his feet anytime and run off into the sunset. He managed to chuckle weakly at that bit of irony.

His entire body was in pain; he couldn’t feel his limps or his arms. And from the dampness he felt on his cheeks and ears, he was sure he was bleeding quite profusely. That, and the fact that was beginning to feel a little dizzy. He couldn’t remember how he ended up here but he must have gotten himself into some sort of traffic accident, that much he knew. The first thing that flitted across his mind was that his face was definitely going to be on the papers tomorrow morning if he died right now, considering the magnitude of the accident. He was assuming it was major because there was nothing besides the sea of stretchers and ambulances from as far as the corner of his eye could see. And then there was the panic and dread in the air that was so overwhelming, he could feel it in his bones. He hoped at the very least he wasn’t the one who caused this mess.

“Stay awake. Try not to sleep. We’re getting you to the hospital now!” About time, he thought and mentally rolled his eyes. The pain was starting to get unbearable and he wished somebody would stick a tube of anesthetic into him. He felt the stretcher rocked furiously before it came to an abrupt halt and he knew he’d landed safely in the ambulance. Now all he has to do is to stay alive till they get him to the ER.

He saw the girl pierce an inch-thick needle into his arm, but strangely the pain didn’t register, much to his relief, because he was not sure if he could handle any more pain. And then the comforting beep of his heartbeat started on the tiny monitor beside him. Always good to know his good old heart was still thumping.

“What’s your name? Tell me your name.” The girl was suddenly in his face and it dawned on him that she was really quite pretty. There was an odd white light that seem to emit from her as she stared at him with those huge almond eyes. Like an angel, he mused. “What’s your name?” She repeated, louder this time—an attempt to keep him awake.

He was beginning to feel giddy and her face was slowly blurring in front of him. I must be losing too much blood, he figured. “Tell me your name.” She demanded for the third time. He managed to pry open his eyes and made an effort to answer that seemingly simple question. It was definitely rude to ignore a person when they’ve asked you the same question for the third time. “It’s…Sam—“ he choked before he could finish and began to cough furiously, each cough bringing a fresh pew of blood rushing up his throat. He panicked as the thick liquid began to stifle his breathing. Dear lord, he was going to choke on his own blood!

“No.” The girl turned to the direction of the driver and screamed. “Step on it Dan, he’s coding. We need to get him to the ER, pronto!” She turned back to him and the panic on her face didn’t bring him any reassurance. She gathered her strength to sit him up and that was when he threw up. Lying back on the stretcher, he felt the numbness begin to set in.

For the first time since he regained consciousness, it occurred to him that he might not live through the day. Pity too, he was so young. His heart sank. He was too damned young to die!

“Hang in there, Sam. You’re going to be fine.” And so you keep telling me, he thought. He liked the way she called his name, although he would appreciate it if she could take the panic out of it.

“Keep your eyes open. Don’t sleep…” He couldn’t help it. His eyelids were getting heavy and despite the alluring sight of the pretty paramedic, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. It was as if a blanket had been thrown over him and gently, he felt himself drawn into the darkness. “No!” A small cold hand grabbed his and he was jolted back into consciousness for a moment. “Keep talking to me, please. Look at me.” She sounded so persistent that he had to oblige.

“You’ll be alright.” He could see her mouth the words, but the sound of her voice didn’t come across. You’re playing with my head. He wanted to snap but he soon realized it wasn’t just her voice he couldn’t hear. The beeping, the screams and the sirens were gone as well. As if somebody had punched the “mute” button in his head.

Just as he was beginning to relish in his new found peace, the lights went out.

Heather knew the second he closed his eyes that he was gone. A moment later, the monitor beside him droned a long monotonous tone confirming her deduction. She wasn’t new on the job but each time, the absolution of death still hits her hard. That a life could be snuffed out in a matter of seconds. Way too easily.

“Don’t give up. Please.” She stood up and positioned her hands on his chest and started to pound. “One, two. One, two…Wake up! One, two. One, two…”

[Wednesday: 7th January 2005: 11.15am]

The phone on her desk rang and she jumped, jolted rudely out of her stupor. “Hello, Grace speaking.” Her voice was dry from all the coffee she drank the night before. It had been an extremely long night.

“Gracie?”

She managed a small smile—it took her a lot of effort to smile these days. She knew who it was. “Hello stranger.”

“Can I take you out for lunch today?”

Grace checked her wristwatch. “Of course. I’ll see you later then.”

After she replaced the receiver, she turned back to her computer and tried to finish the story her editor had demanded she do. To her disgust, all she had typed was endless lines of “Ian”. She leaned back in her chair in an attempt to keep herself together. What was happening to her? Didn’t she promise to get over it already?

Her stomach twisted into a painful knot. I can’t go to the wedding. I’ll never make it out of there.

[Wednesday: 7th January: 1.05pm]

She saw Oliver long before he saw her. It was absurd, but as she stood outside the restaurant looking at him sip his wine, she couldn’t help wishing it was Oliver she was in love with.

Maybe. Just maybe I could.

“Hello handsome.” She mustered a smile as she took the seat opposite Oliver. “Hello yourself.” He laughed as he waved to the waiter. “Quick. Order something to eat. I’m starving.”

After the waiter left with their orders, Oliver reached over and gently took her hands in his.

Her eyes widened with confusion.

“Grace? Will you come with me to Italy?”

[Wednesday: 7th January: 7.05pm]

“But Grace. You don’t know Italian.” Amanda was holding her hands so tight that Grace thought she might break them. “Don’t do this because you want to escape Ian. Please.”

Grace felt herself retreat in denial. “No. I’m not doing this because of Ian.”

Amanda shook her head. She didn’t believe her. Sweet Amanda. She knew her too well.

“I’ll be working there. Reuters has sent me the letter of employment. It’s a huge opportunity for me – to finally pursue what I love doing most.” Grace gave her best friend a sad smile. “I need to start doing things for myself.”

She searched Amanda’s face, disappointed that she wasn’t as supportive as she’d hoped she would be. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

She saw Amanda’s eyes shining with tears as she nodded. “But what about me?”

Grace swallowed painfully and hugged her. “You still have Ben. He loves you and you know I’ll visit. Alot!”

“Do you love Oliver?” Amanda was demanding too much honesty from her. Some of it which she was not ready to share. “Enough to know I’ll be happy with him.”

“When are you leaving?”

“End of this week.”

“You’re not going to the wedding.” It was a statement, not a question, and Grace’s answer confirmed it. “No. I guess not.”

[Sunday: 11th January: 9.00pm]

Grace let her eyes soak up the visual before her. The pink walls, now stark and cold without her paintings, stared back at her, almost accusingly. It would be a long time before she returned. Maybe never. She had everything packed up in boxes and they crowd her tiny one-room apartment.

She was sitting in the middle of her living room which now looked strangely stark without her furniture. Her memories with this place already felt too distant to touch. It’s a good thing, she decided. She didn’t want to take anything with her besides her substantial belongings. Whatever she had felt here before belongs to the past. She needs to let go and start anew.

She will no longer run from it. She will no longer cry about it.

She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.

My life all packed up in boxes. She mused as she let her eyes sweep the apartment. How apt.

In another hour, Oliver would be coming to get her. She wasn’t sure what to feel. Anxiety, nervousness, anticipation, sadness, excitement, resignation?

Millions of thoughts were running through her mind. Ian. Amanda. Oliver.…. Ian.

She hated it, but she felt numb. She knew things were going to get better. That was the only thought which was keeping her going right now. Now, if only she believed herself.

[Sunday: 11th January: 11.45pm]

Her fingers felt warm nestled in Oliver’s hands as he led her towards the boarding gate.

She hadn’t expected Ian to come running after her begging her to stay but still, the tinge of disappointment tugged at her. But she was willing to forgive, since he had no idea she was leaving.

Grace felt strangely light as they walked through the gates. At long last, she might just be able to leave Ian behind.

Beside her, Oliver was smiling at her and she couldn’t help but smile back.

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[Monday: 5th January 2005: 11.50pm]

Amidst her sub consciousness, Grace thought she heard someone calling her name but she was reluctant to acknowledge it. It was a good fifteen minutes later before she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled out into the living room.

“Grace? What the…are you okay?”

“Amanda?”

—

For the next hour, Amanda fussed over her. She made her sit down at the kitchen counter while she made her a mug of hot cocoa, all the while showering her with soothing words.

Grace watched as Amanda moved about the kitchen and realized she had never felt more detached in her life.

“I can take a few days off to accompany you if you want. We could even go on a trip! Or you can always visit your parents in Hong Kong. Take a good, long break. You deserve it. You—“

“Amanda?”

She stopped and turned around, a tender smile on her face. “Hmm?”

“It hurts.”

Amanda swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. Carrying the mug of steaming cocoa, she took the seat beside Grace. Then gently, she pulled her into her arms and hugged her tightly. “You can cry if you want to. I won’t tell. I promise.”

[Tuesday: 6th January 2005: 9.00am]

The second she woke up, Grace could feel the migraine eating into the soft tissues of her temple, immobilizing her momentarily while she waited for the pain to pass. Wincing in pain, she walked into her bathroom and in the mirror, she saw herself—the red, puffy eyes and the parched lips.

She looked like she has just been run over by a truck. Twice.

She stared at herself and felt it all at once: the pity, the pain, the sorrow.

Disgusted with herself, she cleaned and scrubbed herself diligently until she was sure she looked and felt human again before dressing up for work. It was then she saw the note on her headrest that Amanda had written before she left telling her that she’d taken the day off for her.

She managed a smile. Good ole’ Amanda.

Gratefully, she changed out of her work clothes and headed to the kitchen to make some breakfast. She was determined to get the subject of her distress out of her mind; at least to get through the day before throwing herself back into work in the week to come.

She had just emptied the last of the coffee powder into the coffee machine when her doorbell rang.

Grace dragged herself to the door and looked through the peephole but something seemed to be obscuring her view. This somebody was obviously intentionally hiding from her. She mentally ran down her list of possible suspects but all she could conclude was that it couldn’t be Ian or Silver.

She threw open the door and was immediately bombarded by a bouquet of daisies and then she was being pulled into a crushing embrace.

She panicked. “Let go of me, you pervert!”

“Is this how you greet an old friend?”

She blinked as the bouquet disappeared and in its place stood a dashing young man named…”Oliver?”

He gave her a beaming lop-sided grin. “Hello Grace.”

“I can’t believe it’s really you!” Grace was slightly taken back by how much Oliver had changed. The last time they met, it was six years ago when he was still a gawky, awkward pimpled-face student. Now he has hair! And he was so much taller and darker!

Thankfully, he still had that wide captivating smile and those warm chocolate brown eyes.

Grace took a moment to wonder if he was still as in love with her as he was six years ago.

He grinned. “It’s me alright.” Then shifting his weight, he lamented. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Oh!” Grace laughed. “I’m sorry. Please come in.” She opened the door wider for him to step in.

“So how have you been, Grace?” He asked as he sat down on the couch and Grace took the space beside him after pouring him and herself each a cup of steaming coffee. “You don’t look too good.” He leaned closer as he inspected her. “You look like you’ve been crying.” His voice had softened evidently.

She avoided his eyes and attempted to change the subject. “So what are you doing back here? Last I heard, you were in Italy.” She almost laughed at herself. What was she trying to do? She sure didn’t feel as bright as she sounded.

Oliver gave her a long hard look, which Grace felt was alarmingly intimate, before going along with her. “I was. I came back to gather some information for a story and then I’m off again.”

Grace nodded. Like her, Oliver was a writer. Only he chose to leave a long time ago to pursue something bigger. Now, he’s working for The Reuters and has the world in his palm. “How long will you be staying?”

Oliver shrugged. “A few days. A week, at most.” Grace felt her heart drop to her feet. “That soon?”

His heart did a little dance as he nodded. He saw her face drop and heard the disappointment in her voice. Anything that was something was a chance that Grace might finally be feeling for him. It marveled him that after all these years, the sight of her still takes his breath away. And him, well, he still feels like a lovesick schoolboy around her.

Suddenly, the phone rang and Grace jumped. She froze as it continued ringing. Before she could respond, Oliver had already answered it.

“It’s for you.” He passed the headset to her, his tone disapproving. “Some guy. Ian.”

Grace shook her head. No, she mouthed. I’m not in. Oliver gave her a questioning look but obligingly did as she asked. “She’s not in. Do you want to leave a message?”

A second later, he passed her the headset again. “He says if you don’t pick up, he’s coming around the house.” He hushed and then mouthed to her, We don’t want that, do we?

Her heartbeat raced and she had to take a deep breath. Warily, she took the phone. “Ian?”

“Grace? Jesus. Where have you been? I’ve been calling all of yesterday.” His words were forceful but his voice, like always, was calm and composed. He didn’t ask about the man in her house.

Grace couldn’t trust herself to speak but still she did. “I have been…busy.”

“That’s good. I thought you were ill.” There was relief in his voice and Grace felt the pit of her stomach tightening. Ian had never cared to ask more than once. “Did Silver tell you? About the wedding?”

She felt it again—the painful pang in her guts. “Yes.” She managed.

Grace held her breath as Ian tactlessly continued about the plans of the wedding, completely unaware of her demise. She pulled the headset an inch from her ears and waited for it to end.

Oliver watched as she took the call. Ian, was it? He remembers that name.

The pain on her face was undeniable and it broke his heart. If he had his way, he’ll never want to see that look of sorrow in her eyes again.

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THREE YEARS AGO
[Saturday: 16th March 2002: 7.30pm]

“What?”

Grace wasn’t sure if she could say it a second time. “I’m…in love with…you.” She sputtered. It came out squeaky and slurred—not much improvement from the first time she said it just seconds ago, which might explain the look of confusion on Ian’s face.

She waited. But when a full minute went past and he was still not responding, she decided it was time for her to dig a hole in a ground and then hide in it until next year.

“…What?” Ian’s eyes had widened another inch—if it was even possible.

Not again? She groaned inwardly. This was hardly the response she was anticipating. Her only consolation was that he hadn’t jumped out of his seat and bolted out of the café. Yet. “Please don’t make me say it again.” She pleaded in a whisper, feeling her cheeks grow hot.

“Well…I, well…I don’t know.. why…how?..”

He was stammering. Was it a good sign? Well, screw the signs. She needed a complete sentence, one that she could decipher into something that actually makes sense.

Grace was just attempting to rearrange her face into a look that is more encouraging when Ian stopped. “Aren’t you going to get that?” He said.

Grace frowned. His first complete sentence and she had no idea what he was talking about. This is getting way too warped for her liking.

“Your phone. Aren’t you going to get that?” He repeated.

“Oh!” So that awful shrieking melody was her phone! She plunged her hand into her handbag in search for the offensive machine. “Yes?” She snapped.

“Gracie! How’s it going? Did he say yes?” It was a very excited Amanda. Such great timing, as always. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.” She hissed. She heard Amanda gasp. “This is taking awfully long! What are you doing? Making polite conversation? Get to the point already!”

“I’m busy. I’ll call you back.”

“Hey Gracie, why don’t you get him to the phone. I’ll speak to him for you.” That was a sweet offer but God, she was relentless!

“No. It’s fine. Look, I’ll call you. I promise.” Grace ended the call before Amanda could protest and diverted her attention back to a very flustered looking Ian.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized and struggled for an explanation. “It’s a friend…asking if I wanted free tickets… to, er…the zoo!”

“I see.” He responded woodenly and apparently not seeing at all. “About what you said just now…”

Grace started to pray as her heart began to pound furiously. “I’m sorry.” He finished quietly. Her heart stopped. “You’re sorry?” She echoed. “About what?” An ominous dread had crept into her guts and she already knew what was heading her way before he said it.

“I can’t.”

The absolution of it hit her like a brick and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. “Oh.” She managed stiffly. She could literally feel her knees buckle and suddenly, she wanted very badly to leave. Her mind had miraculously turned into a mush and she couldn’t think. She picked up her handbag and stood up, eager to save herself whatever dignity that was left.

He stood up too, anxious. She’d never seen him anxious. “Don’t you want to hear me explain?”

She sat down dejectedly, painfully. “Sure.” She answered softly. “Why not?”

Grace watched as he took a deep breathe before he started. “The easiest way to ruin a relationship is to actually get into one, Grace. I like you very much. But not that way. Besides, how well do you know me? We hardly ever talk. I just think we should remain friends for now.” He gave her a soft look. “Do you know what I’m saying?”

She nodded, painfully aware of the dull ache in her chest.

He reached out and with a finger, gently wiped the lone tear that had escaped from her eye. His touch burned her skin and she flinched. And she knew. He didn’t feel a thing for her.

They didn’t turn into instant friends as most people do after going through awkward situations like this. Instead, they drifted apart, contacting only when absolutely necessary. For Grace, it was painful. But it was also something that she wasn’t willing to let go. To her, he was still the love of her life.

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[Monday: 5th January 2005: 5.20pm]

“We’re getting married.”

“Promise you’ll tell me if you ever get married.”

“Of course.” He turned and gave her a soft smile laced with just a tinge of surprise. “Why wouldn’t I tell you?”

She shrugged and kept her gaze fixated to the dusking sky, no answer for her own question. Why did she ask such a dumb question? “I don’t know.”

He let out a hearty laugh and reached out, shuffling the top of head affectionately. “You’re so silly.”

“Grace?” Silver’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts. “Are you there?”

It took her awhile to collect herself but Silver’s words refused to register. “Married?” She echoed dumbly.

“Yes! Isn’t it great? We’re having the banquet at the English Garden end of this month. You’ll come, wouldn’t you?” The bliss in her voice so assaulting that Grace almost had the impulse to hang up the phone. She struggled to regain her composure and knew she was failing terribly. It felt like someone had just threw a punch into her stomach and the pain was beyond comprehension.

He’s getting married? At that very moment, Grace witnessed her entire world crumbling to the ground.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.” She lied, sounding shaky even to her ears.

Could Silver hear the devastation in her voice?

“I’ll get Ian to call you about the details then. Ciao!”

He didn’t even call me himself.

—

Grace had been sitting in her own bed for the last hour, her knees drawn up to her chest rocking to the soft rhythm of her broken heart. Beside her, the phone has been ringing non-stop but she hadn’t answered a single call. It was probably Amanda. Or her editor. Or even Ian and Silver—the last two people she want to be hearing from right now.

She had expected this to happen, hadn’t she? Him getting married. But not this soon. Not now. And especially not to Silver.

She drew in a shaky breathe. She was on the verge of tears but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to cry. All she felt was an overwhelming numbness and that hurt even more because it twisted her insides and made her cold.

She hugged herself, not in an attempt to keep warm, but in an attempt to keep herself from falling apart.

She wanted to wail, to scream, to yell. But would it have mattered? Would it change anything? No. She supposed not. Ian would still be getting married. She choked back a sob that had escaped from her throat. It was her own fault. She should have walked away the first chance she got but she chose to stay.

Now she will have to witness him marrying someone else. She wasn’t sure she could survive that, and the torrid image of Ian and Silver walking hand in hand down the aisle was beginning to materialize into something much too real.

Grace stared at the ringing phone and finally took a wary glance at the caller ID. It was Ian. She took the phone off the hook and crawled under her covers.

He never cared the way she did for him. Now he never will.

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She watched as the young waiter returned to refill her coffee for the third time that night. He tipped the pot over her cup and her eyes followed the thick liquid as it floated from the pot and into her cup, it’s aroma hitting her squarely in the face and she took it all in gratefully. Caffeine has become her best friend these days. The long nights, the tedious waiting. For too long a time, she has done nothing but wait.

“Is there anything else you need?” He asked, bestowing her a small smile before she could thank him. No, she returned his smile, she was fine. He nodded and took his leave, giving her another smile over his shoulders – a sympathetic smile, and she grimaced. He knew she was waiting.

She took in a shaky breath and sank into the plush cushioned seat, sipping slowly from her cup. Outside, it had started to rain and she could hear raindrops gently tapping against the window panes, begging to be let in, only to be denied. A bitter look crossed her exquisite features and her eyes began to sparkle with tears. What was she doing? He was gone. He abandoned her. Why was she still waiting?

It was hard not to remember him on a day like this and despite the fact that he’d been gone for months, she was certain he would return. I’ll come back for you, he’d promised, the last week of December. She took a nervous glance at the antique clock that hung over her head. Today was the last day of December, and it was fast approaching midnight.

Her knuckles were pale from gripping the table edges, but she had not noticed the pain. All that she was conscious of was the gentle ticking of the clock and the voice in her head telling her a little too insistently that it had ended.

A single resented tear escaped from her eyes and rolled down her pale cheeks. How silly, she chided herself, wiping away her tears with the back of her hands angrily. How silly for believing.

Above her, the clock struck midnight, and she knew. This time for sure.

He was not coming.

With trembling hands, Grace lifted the bottle to her lips, tilting the end of the bottle until the last of the gold and frothy remains fall back into her throat. The amber liquid burned mercilessly downwards, all the way into her chest, almost bringing tears to her eyes.

Grace savored the pain for a minute, letting it engulf and numbing her from the memories that never seemed to rest. Setting the empty whiskey bottle back in her lap, she rested her heavy head back onto the leather car seat and closed her eyes. In the muted darkness behind her shut eyelids, she saw Nicholas—the man who had promised her so much; the man whom she loved so dearly. The man who, ultimately, despite all his pledges of eternity, left her.

“Damn you, Nicholas Tse.” She managed in a choked whisper. “Damn you.”

When she opened her eyes again, they were brimming with tears—tears that she had refused to shed for so long. But she could no longer hold them back. For three years, she had drowned in them. But in the solitary of this hushed night, she decided she could let her tears flow.

For a long time, she cried, her body shaking brokenly with each sob until she felt she had nothing more left inside her. But still, the ache in her heart didn’t stop throbbing.

Wiping away the stray tears with the back of her hand, Grace pushed the vehicle door opened and shakily got onto her feet. The cold air outside was a fitting welcome to reality and Grace was secretly grateful for it. She left the door opened and with the empty bottle still in her hands, she staggered to the front of the car then slid down onto the rocky ground facing the roaring ocean.

The ocean had been Nicholas’ eternal grave.

Slowly, Grace brought the empty bottle to her lips and whispered softly into it. “I miss you, Nicholas. Will you come back to me? Please?” The mere words threatened to bring tears to her eyes again, but she held them back, determined not to cry. Who was she kidding? How could Nicholas be coming back? But she wasn’t ready to lower her shield of illusory yet. Soon, but not just yet.

She pushed the cork back into the mouth of the bottle, closing her aching words inside it. Pulling her arm back, she swung the bottle into the sea. She never heard the bottle hit the waves, but she knew it must have reached him. He had taught her that—if he ever left first, she needed only to throw him a bottle, and he’ll hear her.

He loved the ocean, her Nicholas.

Grace’s head rolled back and rested on the bumper, her eyes wide open as she contemplated the star lit sky. Was he up there, looking down at her? For three years and the pain was just as raw. Did he know how much she’s hurting? How each day was passed with agony since he left? But of course he didn’t know. He’d been long gone.

As the cold night dragged on, Grace sat there listening to the ocean whispering to her their own song of broken spirits until dawn finally started to break. She pulled herself up, her head throbbing painfully as she did so. Unsteadily, she walked back to the car and slipped in behind the wheel. She knew she was in no condition to drive, but how else was she going to get home? Home. Where the rest of her life waited patiently.

Maybe it was finally time to start over.

As she descended the long mountain road, her mind raced with a million familiar thoughts of Nicholas and again, her eyes misted with tears. When the bend in the road appeared she pumped the brakes. At first the realization that the car was not responding brought annoyance rather than fear, and she tried again in quick thrusts, each one harder than the one before, but the result was the same. The brakes were gone. It was then that panic kicked in.

The steering wheel slipped beneath her sweaty palms, and she tightened her grip. Her gaze fastened on the road, and she fought the urge to blink. The car swerved and swayed across the road, like a drunk weaving through traffic. More than once it came dangerously close to the edge, gravel from the beam crunching beneath the tires. Each time Grace brought it back. She could feel her heartbeat accelerating in rhythm with the car . . . sixty-seven, sixty-eight, seventy miles per hour.

She knew what lay ahead; she could picture it in her mind as sharp and clear as a photograph—that last tight curve before the road made its final descent to meet the highway. There was simply no way she could negotiate the turn at this speed. Grace felt the tears slide down her cheeks as the curve came into view.
Nicholas’ face suddenly appeared in her head. Was she going to join him now?

Perhaps she didn’t have to be alone anymore.

Again on instinct, her right foot slammed into the brake pedal one last time—