“Mere is slowly getting attached to Clementine.”
“How do you feel?”
“I’m afraid, when Clementine finally leaves, Mere will be hurt.” I avoid thinking how Clem’s departure will affect me.
“No, I meant about the night when you and Clementine were together. What did you feel?”
I’m thankful that the coffee mug in my trembling hands is not fully filled. “I—” I’m about to start some bullshit, but Emily sees right through it.
“I can only help if you are honest with me, Keith. I’m also the one person who won’t judge you.”
My heartbeat skyrockets at the thought of opening up to someone else in eleven years, and the knowledge that I want to do that, surprises me deeply.
“I felt alive,” I whisper. “For the first time in a decade, I didn’t pray at night that my eyes don’t open in the morning. When I woke up beside her, I fucking smiled.”
“Then what happened?”
“Then she told me about the cat,” I reply through clenched teeth. “She repeated Melanie’s words.”
“Has that happened before?” When I nod in confirmation, Emily’s eyebrows rise up. “How do you feel?”
How do I feel?
I feel like life is playing a sick joke at my expense. My stupid brain sometimes starts seeing Melanie’s face in Clementine, imagining things it never should.
“I lost my shit. I feel like Clementine is trying to take Melanie’s place in my life. In Mere’s life.”
“And would that be so bad?”
My heart races in my chest, ready to crawl out of my body. “But Melanie—”
“The extent of Melanie’s existence in your life is up to you, Keith. She can continue to be an all-encompassing presence, or she can be a good memory, but not paralyzing you.”
I’m about to protest that no one’s paralyzing me, when she looks at her watch.
“Our time’s up, but can you do something for me today? For a minute, just one minute, think about Clementine without bringing Melanie into the same thought. Don’t feel guilty spending a minute of your day not thinking about Melanie. You have my permission to do so.” Emily smiles her same, kind smile before getting up from the chair and dismissing me.
* * *
Later that night, after dinner, I return to my room, Snowy hot on my heels. I change into my sweatpants and forego my T-shirt, remembering Clementine’s hot gaze on my naked chest several times. Falling into the bed, I close my eyes as Snowy sits next to my head.
I take a deep breath and remember the day Clementine’s eyes met mine for the first time under the black umbrella.
Raindrops stuck on her eyelashes and she blinked them away. When I touched her for the first time, inspecting the cut on her wrist, her wild pulse felt like a hummingbird under my hands.
I open my eyes, breathing hard, sweat sticking all over my skin. My body feels like a live wire, weird electricity coursing through it. With shaking hands, I pick up a glass of water and take huge gulps.
I walk out of my bedroom, where memories of Clementine sleeping naked, smiling at me, are still fresh. I flop on the living room couch and hear Mere’s excited voice.
“I still can’t believe you are calling the prom collection Merida.” She is silent for a moment before saying, “I am so excited for you, Clem. But I miss you. So much. Dad too.”
My ears perk and I wish I could hear what Clementine is saying.
Merida finally walks into the living room after finishing her call.
“Hey, Dad.” She waves at me. Like always, her mood bright after talking to her friend.
I nod. “You were talking to someone?”