Joe's been working overtime due to severe weather conditions. We have had a series of heavy wind storms and he's had to patch more roofs than one could count. Though I feel for him having to work in such harsh conditions, I appreciate the time I get alone with Olivia-and to myself.

  Today is Olivia's fifth birthday. Joe finally has a day off, so the big party with family and friends at a local pizza parlor goes as planned. I'm almost finished wrapping her gifts, while Joe is gone picking up the cake, when Olivia softly knocks on our bedroom door. I hurriedly put a bow on the biggest and last gift-a doll house.

  "Mommy?" she asks sweetly on the other side of the door.

  "Come in, baby." I reply.

  She slowly opens the door with one hand over both of her eyes and a big grin on her face. Her demeanor tugs at my heart, helping clear the traces of sadness I occasionally feel.

  "Can I look now?" she asks. She loves surprises, just as I do, so I know she doesn't want to spoil anything for herself.

  "Yep, you sure can. Come sit on my lap." I say.

  I sit down on the bed and prepare for the weight of her small body. She's a healthy-sized child, who's never been weak or fragile in stature and is perfectly proportioned. In fact, she'll be as tall as me by the time she reaches middle school. Won't she?

  She folds into me and I hold her close, taking in her sweet shampoo smell. Olivia is my anchor, my beacon, the one consistent thing that keeps me grounded to whatever life I live.

  When we arrive, the restaurant is chaotic with another party in progress. I ask Joe to order the pizzas and drinks before I head to a private room in the back to set up the cake and party decorations. Olivia has already run off to play in the recreation room until our guests arrive. I'm grateful for the busyness here, as it forces me to put on a happy face and distracts me from the reality that I'm slowly accepting as my life.

  I'm putting out the cake plates when I look up through the partition window to watch Joe waiting at the counter. I do a double-take upon noticing a younger woman approaching him. I'm unable to see who she is with her back facing me, but Joe gets a big smile on his face and hugs her. I feel more curiosity than jealousy when seeing his boyish expression. He looks a little nervous, but happy as he engages in conversation with her.

  Joe points in my direction and the woman turns around to look. I'm caught looking at them, so I wave with a smile, even though I am still unable to recognize her.

  Joe signals for me to come over, so I put down the plates and quickly cross the restaurant towards them. I almost stop in my tracks when getting closer to them. I'm unsure of how to act when I finally approach her. It's Rachel, Joe's wife.

  CHAPTER 34

  The party goes off without a hitch. Everyone eats all the pizza and Joe drinks a little too much beer. Olivia loves every present she gets and has a sugar high from the cake, but finally crashes in the car on the way home. I'm quiet as I drive. The radio is turned on softly, and Joe's humming along.

  "Rachel looked good, didn't she?" Joe asks me out of the blue. I'm not sure how to respond, other than to agree. Earlier, when he called me over, I'd followed Joe's lead and hugged her too. We made small talk for a few minutes before my parents showed up and we were forced to tend to Olivia's party. It was a welcomed interruption, as I was extremely uncomfortable, even though I hid it well.

  We had all gone to school together until Rachel moved before our freshman year of high school. I remembered her as a friendly and warm person, a pretty girl who always wore a smile. From what I recall, shortly after our divorce she moved back into town when her grandmother fell ill. I assume that's when Joe and Rachel reconnected.

  When Joe later married her, I truly believed she was the best fit for him and I was grateful that Olivia had her as a stepmother. But during the party I couldn't help but wonder why I felt so awkward when I encountered her. I wasn't jealous, I wasn't upset, and I didn't feel as if I got caught with her husband. Instead, I felt sad for her.

  In the bits of memory of the future I had left, she and Joe had a life together in Idaho. They had a nice home and two children. I started to fear that has been taken away-and their happy future might possibly never exist. I felt in some way responsible, even if I didn't directly do anything to cause it. And that set my mind to questioning. If I left Joe now, would it change anything? Would they end up together after all? Olivia is so happy. Is it worth the risk?

  The fact is though, I'm too afraid to make any impulsive changes that could mess up anymore of my life than what I've already done-whatever that may have been. And I may never know what that was, as I'm too afraid to pursue it any further. For now I am moving through the phases of grief.

  Denial...check. Anger...check. Bargaining....maybe. Depression...definitely. Acceptance...we'll see.

  CHAPTER 35

  This last week of January has crept by. The Marketing department is away at a tradeshow and I'm left with nothing to do but pace myself at work so I won't die of boredom. I cannot wait until Stacy is back and I'll have a friend to chat with again.

  In the days since Olivia's party I've managed to convince myself that I need to commit to this life I'm living. Joe is a good dad, and in his own way a good husband. The guilt I felt after seeing Rachel has lessened. I can't change anything and I can't force something to happen that may never have happened anyway.

  One night I decided to burn my journal in our fireplace. There's no point in keeping it any longer. And besides, John still has the recordings from our sessions, even though he offered them to me at our last visit. I didn't see the point in listening through them anyway. It would just add to my confusion and make me long for something that was disappearing from my memory more and more each day.

  I now dream about my job, Olivia, and sometimes Joe. I don't see the man in the shadows so much anymore, or the little girl. In fact, the other day I actually forgot her name. It took me an hour to come up with a name that sounded right.

  In my downtime at work I research past life regression, future life progression, and even time travel. Most of it seems like a bunch of hocus pocus and baffles me. The conclusion I've come to-for my peace of mind-is that I must have had a vivid premonition of what could have been. It must have been so real that it shocked my subconscious and caused me to believe that I actually lived that life. I speculate if it was the medication or the panic attacks that allowed this fantasy to get so elaborate that I believed it. I may never know.

  My office phone rings around 1:00 p.m., snapping me out of my thoughts. "Sound and Clear, this is Jenni," I say politely.

  "Hey Jen. It's Steve," Steve replies.

  "Hi! How's California?" I ask, happy to hear a friendly voice.

  "Great! Can you do me a big favor?" he requests.

  "Sure. What's up?" I say, grabbing a sticky note and piece of paper.

  "I just got a call from the internship program. The Marketing interns will definitely be arriving on Monday. Stacy ran out of time to get their housing arranged. If I give you the info, can you contact the house on campus and finalize everything?"

  Something in my gut gets excited by this request, but I'm not sure why. Sound and Clear has always employed interns for Engineering and Marketing, so this isn't anything unusual. However, for some reason butterflies are lightly swirling in my stomach. Maybe I'm nervous about the task at hand.

  I take down the information, hang up and quickly dial the number Steve gave me. After arranging to meet the housing manager, to sign paperwork and provide her with the deposit, I tell Ruth I have to leave early. At 3:00 I head out to the old fraternity house that now offers housing for international and low income students.

  After finding a parking spot, I make my way to the back entrance of the house -as instructed. When I slowly open the door that leads into a large, communal kitchen I'm greeted immediately by the smell of must and old food.

  The house is quiet and there's no sign of life in the main area. I peek into a hall entrance to see if there's any
one around who can help me. I feel as if I shouldn't be here, but at the same time, it feels as if I've been here before. I question if perhaps I was here during the brief period of time I worked in property management.

  I notice a door to my left that looks like it leads to a basement. A sign reads "Manager, downstairs 1B." I'm now relieved to know where I am going now. I carefully make my way down the old wooden stairs to the fluorescent-lit basement that holds two sets of washers and dryers and a stack of old mattresses.

  I find the manager's door on my right and knock lightly. I hear the doorknob being unlocked, before the door opens very slightly so the person on the other side can just barely see me. There's a plain-looking brunette peering through the slit in the doorway.

  "Hi," I say. "I'm Jenni. We talked on the phone about the two rooms we need on Monday."

  She opens the door a bit wider to let herself out and shuts it behind her quickly, but not before I see that her room is filled with stuffed animals. Odd, for a woman her age. She's awkward, but smiling nevertheless.

  "Oh, hi. Thanks for coming so soon. I'm Tonya," she says, extending her hand. Her handshake is weak, but polite.

  After a quick exchange of paperwork and the deposit, she hands me the keys. I thank her and head back up the stairs. Upon reaching the top I pause and take another look around the kitchen. It's ugly and bare and smells like stale cooking oil. Nonetheless, it is oddly familiar.

  CHAPTER 36

  The Stranger

  It's a hot summer day. We're walking in a field of tall, green grass. The sun is setting. I watch my step as I follow him. The blinding sun makes it hard to see where he's going. His silhouette slips in and out of the shadows and light. I don't know where we are going or why, but I follow him anyway-whoever he is.

  I am tired, so I slow down to catch my breath. My legs feel heavy and I'm growing thirsty. "Wait," I call out between breaths. It takes so much effort to speak. The figure stops, but he doesn't turn around. After catching my breath, I stand up straight and notice that the air has suddenly become quiet. No bird song, no sound of the breeze. Nothing but cold silence.

  "Who...are?you?" I force from my mouth. The figure doesn't move, nor speak. Instead, he fades away. The air is now colder. It's become dark. The rain begins to fall.

  CHAPTER 37

  The buzz of the alarm clock unkindly wakes me from my slumber. I'm not ready for today because I know it will be chaotic, with Marketing returning from their trip. And helpful me, committed to helping them unpack from the show-an offer I now regret, after having helped them pack to go.

  "Hey there, Sunshine," Joe says sarcastically, as he enters the room and puts on his work boots.

  I roll my eyes in irritation.

  "You were quite vocal last night," he says.

  What the hell does that mean?

  "I've never heard you talk in your sleep before," he continues, "but you were saying 'wait' and it woke me up."

  I sit up and grumble, shrugging off his comment. I can't remember what I dreamt about, so it doesn't make any difference to me. Joe grabs his keys, quickly kisses me on the cheek and exits. "Love ya," he says from down the hall.

  I hurry to get ready and make myself look the opposite of how I feel. I'm in a bad mood and I don't know why, but trying to snap out of it. Olivia decides to be picky about the pants she's wearing this morning and won't cooperate. I'm beginning to run late and my patience is wearing thin.

  After fighting with her about wearing jeans due to the cold weather, I concede, and she's now in capris in the dead of winter. I quickly make my way to her preschool, drop her off, and then remember I have to drive into town before work and get more coffee creamer for the office.

  I make a quick stop at the mini-mart that's on the way and pull into the hectic lines of commuter traffic that I typically avoid by taking back roads. A school bus and dump truck are competing for spots at the red light and I know that regardless of which lane I choose, I'm going to move at a snail's pace.

  I resort to turning up the radio and singing a long, hoping that doing so will clear my bad mood. Ironically, a song about having a bad day is playing. It appears this will be my theme song today. Traffic is still creeping along. I look to my left at a taxicab that just cut off another car behind me, only to get stuck in the lane next to me.

  It's rare to see a taxi at this time of morning. They're usually more commonly used to transport drunken college students home from the bars at night. The light turns green and the left lane moves faster. As the cab passes me, I get a glimpse of the passenger in the backseat and stomp on my brakes. I'm jostled hard as I feel the slam from behind and my head snaps backwards. "Shit!" I yell out loud.

  Shaking with adrenaline, I take a minute to collect myself. The taxi is gone while I'm at a standstill. I look in the rearview mirror and see that the driver who hit me is now out of his car and walking towards my driver side. I'm pretty sure it's his fault because he rear-ended me, but I don't know why I stopped so suddenly. I try to stop shaking enough to roll down my window.

  "Are you OK?" he asks, concerned.

  I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. How about you?" I ask.

  "Yes," he says, still frazzled.

  I grab my purse and insurance information from the glove box and get out of the car. We quickly inspect the damage and surprisingly find that besides a slightly dented license plate on his car, there's no visible damage to mine and no point in filing a claim or calling the police. Luckily we were barely moving in traffic when he hit me. But we exchange information just in case. I get in the car, phone Ruth at work to explain why I'm late, and get back on the road.

  I'm still a little shaken up when I pull into the parking lot at work, so I take a deep breath and try to calm down so I don't appear so frazzled. I see Stacy's car parked in her space and I'm immediately filled with excitement and relief to see my friend soon.

  I hustle into the building and put the creamer away in the kitchen. As I turn the corner to the hall, I can already hear upbeat voices and laughter coming from Marketing. The sound is soothing to me and eases my stressed mind.

  "Hey guys!" I say cheerfully, walking through entrance to the Marketing office.

  Stacy turns away from the group of people gathered talking in the middle of the main room to face me. "Hey you!" she says, rushing over to give me a hug.

  "It's so good to see you!" I say squeezing her back.

  "I want you to meet our new interns," she says, moving out of the way to make the introductions.

  My body freezes instantly and my legs lock under me. Suddenly I can't breathe. My head starts to swim and I feel the blood drain from my brain, as my heart pounds hard in my chest. My eyes are locked on the man standing in front of me. Bright lights are flashing all around me. I'm blinded by the colors and images. My eyes sting and my pulse pounds in my head. A million images collide in my mind all at once and I can't make sense of anything, it's all happening so fast.

  Images of us flash rapidly through my brain. A kiss, an intimate moment, a wedding, a birth. Christmas, New Years, a birthday, a funeral. Moments of laughter, tears, anger, and moments of love. Everything is us and it's all colliding together at once. The images suddenly stop as quickly as they came.

  The rest of the room is blurry, but only he is in focus. He stares at me with a confused look on his face. "Michael," I gasp, before my legs give out and my body hits the floor.

  We are alone in a dark room with only the light of the moon shining upon us. The shadows of the night contour his face.

  "It's you," I say to him. He nods and softly smiles while staring back into my eyes. He holds me closer. I breathe in his familiar scent.

  "Where have you been?" I whisper, trying not to cry.

  "With you," he answers. "I'm always with you."

  "I've missed you," I say, leaning into him more. I don't want to let go. I don't want him to leave me again.

  "I know you did," he says. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long."

/>   I begin to cry. He gently strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. "Don't leave me again," I beg.

  "You either," he replies.

  CHAPTER 38

  I'm pulled out of the darkness when I hear Stacy's voice. "Jen, Jen,?it's OK."

  She has my head in her lap and is sitting me up slightly. Steve is kneeling down at my other side. I can feel the presence of other people in the room around us. I try to open my eyes, but the fluorescent lighting overhead is piercing them.

  "Can someone turn off the lights?" Stacy asks to the room when seeing me struggle. Seconds later the room is darker, with only shadowed sunlight filtering through the blinds.

  It's quiet now, and whoever is in the room is speaking in hushed tones.

  "Jen, the ambulance is on its way," Stacy whispers to me.

  I shake my head, and remain lying in Stacy's lap. "I don't...I don't need it." I whisper.

 
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