By Alexandra Monir
What if I'm the only one who remembers?
What if it's just me who feels the missing touch, hears the sound of laughter long gone, and sees the two of us in a forgotten New York? He looks through me, his expression unfazed and innocent--and it's that ambivalence that cuts like a knife. Could he be playing a role...or did he actually forget me?
I can't look away from the nauseating scene-Philip at the lunch table beside the notoriously flirty Jessica Morgan, his unmistakable blue eyes sparkling as they share a joke. He breaks into that signature smile of his, and for the first time, I find it heartbreaking. But then, isn't that always the case with a smile--when you know it's not meant for you?
I wish I could stop this speeding train of jealousy, but I can't help it, it hurts so much I want to bleed. To have him back, just as he promised-but not remember what we once were? It's as though Time is playing a particularly cruel game.
And then, his glance meets mine. I've been caught staring, but I hold my gaze. And so does he. I catch Jessica touching his arm, trying to regain his focus, but he looks at me longer than he should before turning back to his lunch date.
It's a small victory, but I savor it. He can't have forgotten me completely.