Our Last Dance

Chapter 24

As I sat in the kayak, the gentle sway of the water lulling my thoughts, I turned to face him.

Throughout our friendship, after discovering he was my boyfriend in the past, I had fooled myself. I held onto the notion that my feelings for Elijah remained, trapped in a maze of uncertainty and denial. I hid my true emotions, tricking myself into believing that my reluctance was due to the turmoil surrounding us, rather than facing the harsh truth head-on.

But in the depths of my being, I knew the reality—I no longer loved him.

The heaviness of this truth weighed on me, clear and suffocating. I had avoided facing it, burying it deep inside, scared of the chaos it might cause. But looking into Elijah's eyes, I knew I couldn't pretend anymore.

His gaze pierced mine, filled with hope.

How could I no longer feel that same adoration for the person who once meant everything to me?

In my dreams, the past lingered, leaving an empty ache. I missed him, but love had faded away. And that truth broke me, tearing me apart.

My breathing quickened. "Elijah," I managed to say, my voice catching in my throat. How could I utter those words? How could I tell him that I didn't love him anymore, especially when he'd been tirelessly trying to jog my memory?

"You don't have to say anything right now, Layla," he reassured gently. "You can take your time. I'll wait." His words offered solace, but I couldn't meet his gaze. A tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek, as emotions overwhelmed me.

"Layla! Are you okay?" His concern was palpable, but I flinched away as he reached out to touch me. I couldn't bear his comfort, not in this moment.

"Give me a moment," I whispered, closing my eyes tightly, unwilling to confront the turmoil within me, still avoiding his gaze.

"Just give me a minute…" A sob rose up in my chest, threatening to choke me. My breath caught painfully in my lungs as tears welled up in my eyes.

"Layla," his voice was soft, filled with concern and confusion. Even without seeing his face, I could sense his worry.

How had I fallen out of love? I had loved him so deeply, enough to envision a future together, to dream of marriage. The contradiction felt like a betrayal of my own heart.

I still cared for him, valued our friendship dearly, but anything more was out of reach. The idea of falling in love with him again seemed impossible, like trying to climb a mountain with no peak in sight.

"I can't," I finally breathed out, the words heavy with finality. It took every ounce of courage to speak the truth. I had deceived myself for too long, led him on with false hope, but I couldn't continue the charade.

"What?" Elijah's voice broke through my thoughts, and I blinked, my vision blurred with tears. I turned to look at him, his expression twisted with confusion.

"I can't, Elijah," I repeated, the words coming out in a choked whisper. Tears continued to flow down my cheeks, my heart heavy with the weight of the truth. "I don't love you anymore," I finally managed to say, each word catching in my throat like thorns on a vine.

I looked down again, avoiding his gaze, not wanting to witness the pain I had caused him.

"Anymore?" His voice wavered with uncertainty, but I couldn't bring myself to look up.

What was love without memories? Weren't those shared moments and memories the very essence of love? Weren't those fleeting instances, those little gestures, what made you fall for someone? But if I couldn't remember any of them, how could I claim to love him?

"I can't love you, Elijah. I don't feel it anymore," I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips in a rush. "I'm sorry, please forgive me." Guilt gnawed at me; I had misled him, allowed him to hope, all because of my foolishness in sharing my dreams and visions. It was my fault, entirely my fault.

"Layla-" he began, but I silenced him with a gesture, my hand held up to stop his words. I couldn't bear to hear him speak, to face the pain in his voice. All I wanted was to escape, to scream into the void, to disappear. I didn't want to be near him, not now, not ever.

"Let's go. Please," I choked out, tears streaming down my face unabated. I wanted to cry even more, frustrated by the inability to stop the flood of tears. "I just want to go home."

"Okay," he replied softly, picking up his paddle, while I stared into the clear water, lost in turmoil. "But please don't cry. I'm sorry, Layla. I shouldn't have said anything," he apologized, his words only causing my tears to flow harder. Why the fuck was he being so kind? I wished he had just blamed me, accused me of betraying him, anything but this unbearable empathy.

He paddled towards the shore, his strokes steady and sure. In that moment, I hated myself. Despite holding onto a few fragments of my past, I couldn't find it in me to return his feelings when he confessed.

The weight of my silence hung heavy in the air as we neared the shore. Each stroke of his paddle seemed to echo the pounding of my heart, a reminder of the rift between us. I wanted to reach out, to explain, but the words remained trapped within me, suffocated by the weight of my guilt.

Was it selfish to ask him to remain my friend, knowing that I had lost the love I once felt for him simply because I couldn't remember our past?

As we approached the shore, I stood up from the boat and stepped onto solid ground. Walking towards my car, his voice called my name from behind, but I continued to walk, ignoring his calls.

I opened the door and slipped into the driver's seat, the engine rumbling to life beneath me. The impulse to flee surged through me, compelling me to drive away.

I had loved him so much in the past, but now, as I sat behind the wheel, that love felt like a distant memory, fading with each passing moment.

And I despised myself for it, loathed the reason that robbed me of my memories. It had stripped away everything—years of my life, my memories of Sophie.

And worst of all, it had stolen my love for Elijah.

It was all gone. Every last bit of it was gone.

*********

Author's note:

*Sigh* This chapter was quite difficult to write.