Page 71 of Don’t Forget Me

As I walked back to my room, I stopped by Lysandra’s door. She’d been sitting under the blankets, shivering, her teeth chattering.

“How’s the temperature?”

“It’s good, the sheets are just a bit cold.”

I nodded. It was time for me to head into my room and rest. But I didn’t want to leave her. I wanted to be enveloped in her embrace.

No, I had to have self-control. She was to be married to someone else. She was not mine. Lysandra was just a friend.

A friend that I loved. A friend that I couldn’t get out of my mind, no matter the distractions I used to forget about her.

“Well, goodnight,” I said tentatively.

“Thank you again. For letting me stay the night,” she muttered. She already had her eyes closed. She’d been blabbering incomprehensible syllables. I couldn’t help but snicker under my breath as I closed the door behind me.

I made my way back to my room, fixing myself under the covers.

My bed had been cold despite the blankets. The physical world in which I lived in portrayed the emotional weight I’d been carrying all these years. The absence that Lysandra left in my life had affected every part of me. My days and my nights were cold. Lifeless. Without a drop of warmth to bring me solace.

There was a lump in my throat as I thought of the time that we’d spent apart. So much time. That I couldn’t know her for the rest of my life because of that man. It wasn’t his fault, though. But how I wished to be him. How I wished I could’ve spent her university years with her, held her as she cried, and celebrated with her when she got her book deal. Those were special moments that I wanted to watch and be present for, by her side.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand and realized that my nostalgia had stolen an hour of sleep from me.

Quietly, I walked to my washer and transferred the wet clothes into the dryer. As I was strolling back to my room, I breathed out while rubbing my eyes.

Settling back into bed, I pulled the cold blankets over me.

As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a whimper. A sob. A violent wail that seemed to rip right through to her. Pushing the covers off me, I raced out of my room, my feet sliding as I ran across the hall. When I opened the door to her room, I saw that she’d been lying down on her side with her knees curled toward her chest. I jumped to her side and realized that she still had her eyes closed.

“Lysandra!” I hissed, slightly shaking her. “Lysandra!”

Lysandra cried to herself. My heart broke. I felt like my life was being sucked out of my body as I watched her sob in her sleep.

“Stop,” she whimpered. Her arms were pushing back against an invisible presence.

“Lysandra, wake up!” I shook her.

She gasped and awoke. Leaning on her elbow, she pushed my hands away from her. “Get away from me!”

The strength she shoved me with had been brutal. I’d never seen her be so violent. I imagined the strength she used to defend herself from her stepfather when she was younger, but damn.

Her eyes were wide as she scanned the room and her lips parted. I’d never seen her so scared. When she saw me, she breathed in and out, plopping back onto the pillow.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she mumbled.

But it was the way that she said it. As if this had happened a million times before.

“Lysandra, what happened?”

She looked back at me. I watched her throat gulp down the aftermath of her nightmare.

“Just bad memories,” she whispered. “I’m okay. I’m sorry to have woken you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I questioned. “You’re shaking.”

She nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. I sighed, reluctantly moving away from the warm blankets of her bed. Then, her soft hand held onto mine firmly. “Don’t go.”