The Stella I Remember

15| He Knew Me Before

I paced back and forth in front of the couch in the living room. 

Elliot Watts. 

Okay maybe I internet-stalked him in hopes of finding out everything I could about him. Too bad he wasn't on social media or anything. I needed to find out more. I mean it was Elliot. Even though I didn't remember him, or our time together, I trusted him.

When he hugged me last night, I felt safe and—well, I felt home. 

And then there was that pull I told him about. Like when he walked out of the cabin, I wanted to follow him. I had no idea why. I couldn't remember. 

God. The look on his face when he realized I was the Stella he had been missing—and I could tell he had been missing me. That heart-breaking look of longing in his eyes nearly broke me last night. 

I didn't have the full story yet, but clearly I hurt him. He asked me why I never showed up at the airport. I'm guessing that was when I got into my accident. 

I hated that I couldn't remember anything. 

I hated that I couldn't remember him. 

The large clock on the wall above a landscape painting chimed, startling me. I glanced at it. 2pm. He said he would be here no later than noon. Was he blowing me off? 

I walked over to the dining room table and picked up the piece of paper I sat there earlier. Just because Elliot wasn't on social media, didn't mean he was completely untraceable. 

He was listed. 

With my mind made up, I grabbed my keys and purse before heading out of the cabin. GPS showed he was roughly twenty minutes from here. There was a small part of me that felt a little more like an actual stalker rather than just an internet-stalker.

But I needed to see him. I needed to know more about him. 

And who I really was. 

Ever since I woke up in that hospital bed, I've never felt like Stella. I tried to figure out who I was before the accident, but it seemed impossible. People tried to explain who I was, and who I should be, but I didn't feel like me.

It was clear that Elliot knew a different side of me then others people. I was desperate to find out if that was true.

I knew I found the right house when I saw his truck from last night in the drive way. I parked alongside the yard and got out of my car. 

His house was in a quiet area. Secluded. There was a large porch that almost didn't seem to fit with the small blue house. I walked up the driveway and up the steps. I took a couple deep breaths before I knocked.  

No answer. 

"Damn." 

I knew he was here. His car was here. Was he ignoring me? Blowing me off because of whatever happened at the airport? 

My gut told me that wasn't the case. My gut also told me it might not be the best idea to enter his house without permission.