Alternative

| Chapter Thirteen

The fact that Joe doesn't seem to think the memory to be strange bothers me. Maybe it unnerves me because I was there that day, I remembered it clearly. The truck has a special meaning to me because, without meaning to, it brought me Emery. It freed me and made me whole by granting me the love of my life.

And as much as I explained that to Joe on our ride home, all he could say was, "I promise I'll look into it. I'll dig deeper, okay?"

His words normally hold weight, but tonight, as I sit in the backyard of my house, I find I can't believe him. I want to, I do, but a part of me is worried.

What if he finds something in Elizabeth's past that connects to mine? What if there's more to this journalist than meets the eye? The nagging possibilities dig into my mind, making me nervous. I'm unsettled.

Did you choose her on purpose Joe? I look up at the moon. Or is this a coincidence, too?

"Ray?" Emery's voice comes from behind me. I glance back to see her standing in the doorway leading into the kitchen. There's a beer in her hand. When I lock eyes with hers, she steps out into the yard and hands it to me. And without me asking, she sits beside me, bare toes pressing into the grass beneath our feet.

Her brown eyes peer at me with worry and curiosity. With her knees pulled up, she rests her chin on top of them. "Are you okay, Ray?" she asks. "You've been out here a while."

I watch Emery's emotions reflect on her face. She's stable, looking at me with all the care in the world.

The past two nights with her have been effortless as if her memories hadn't been wiped clean. When she looks at me, I can tell she sees me. When she touches me, there's love on the ends of her fingertips. Her kisses are given to me without the need for spheres or Alt-Life memories. It's as if the uploads unlocked the part of her mind that's been sealed off for so long.

It just hurts to know it took Elizabeth's memories to do it. Why couldn't it have been with any of the other uploads? From the normal and not creepily unnerving women?

Emery's hand reaches out to touch my cheek. I lean into her palm, sighing through my nose.

"Babe," she whispers. The love in her voice brings a heat to my cheeks. The look in her eyes makes my heart race. Her smile makes me smile. "Do you need to talk about whatever it is that's bothering you?"

I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to bring up Elizabeth. Is it wrong to just sit like this and lose myself in her, to just absorb the love emitting from her? I want to take it all, feel it all, because I'm afraid of losing it all again.

Emery scoots closer. Both of her hands lift and touch my cheeks. Cupping my face, she looks into my eyes. As her thumbs gently stroke my face, she says, "Come on. Keeping it all bottled up won't help you."

Again, I lean into her touch. I close my eyes. Bottles can stay sealed forever, babe.

"I think if you open up, you'll feel better."

But I do feel better. Slowly, I open my eyes and look directly into hers. Like this, right now, takes away all of the stress.

Emery pouts as she dips her head. "Rayna," the way she says my name warms me, "talk to me, baby."

Baby. She calls me baby so much now. When she calls me by my name, by pet names, I feel as if she's here with me, again. My loving wife until death does us part.

Thinking about the past year, the struggles and pains of lying to the company that employs me, lying to her because, up until a few days ago, I was just a stranger to her, it hurts me. Tears rim my eyes as I hold my breath.