The Stella I Remember

34| Four-Course Meal

"So basically you figured out your life has been a lie and you've been having a secret affair with a guy that is actually from your past, but you couldn't remember him? Do I have that right?" 

I put the wine bottle to my lips and took a few gulps. Deep gulps. "That about sums it up." 

Bree blew air threw her lips before shaking her head. "Girl...what the hell. What are you going to do? How...I mean, when—"

"Now you sound like me," I drawled. "Honestly, Bree, this is such a mess."

Bree sat up on her couch and crossed her legs. "Well you love this Elliot, right? I mean you said you remember him and stuff." 

There was no hesitation. "Yes. I love him. It's always been him." It took all of my energy to keep it together. Everything about this situation was overwhelming. I wanted to scream, cry, and laugh at the craziness of this situation all at the same time. "Ever since I woke up in that hospital, I knew something was wrong. It was like he was there, in my subconscious, but I couldn't put the pieces together or something. And the way he suffered all those years..."

"That's not your fault, Stella, and if he blames you—"

"He doesn't," I interjected. "I'm the one who blames me. He tries to convince me otherwise." I leaned my head back on the loveseat and stared at my best friend's ceiling. "I don't know, Bree. I can't stop thinking about all this wasted time. I mean it's been over twenty years. We could have been together that whole time. We could have had a family by now." 

"Look at me, Stella."

I did. 

"You can't think like that. You're going to drive yourself crazy. And it isn't good for either of you." She brushed her hand threw her blonde hair. "Look, does the situation suck? Hell yeah, it does. But there isn't anything you can do about the past, Stella. Neither of you can. You guys finally found each other again. Enjoy it." 

"What about Matthew?"

"You need to end that, Stella. I told you from the beginning that you guys didn't belong together." 

Yes, she did. The night that Bree met Matthew was one I wouldn't forget. After dinner at my place, Matthew left and Bree stayed. She poured me a glass of wine and said those four words: we need to talk. 

The first question she asked me was what I saw in him—and for the life of me, I couldn't come up with an answer. She told me that as nice of a guy as he was, that he wasn't the right one for me. She told me this repeatedly over the course of my relationship with him. But while she whispered in one ear I had my mom whispering in the other. 

I didn't realize it before, but whenever I would start having doubts about my future with Matthew, she would talk him up. Not only that, every time I went to her regarding it, he always...

"Sonofabitch!"

Bree's eyes went wide. "What? What's wrong?" 

As realization dawned on me, I looked at my best friend. "I can't believe her! How could I have not noticed this before?" 

"Wanna clue me in here or..."

"My mom! She—she—she—fuck!"

Bree sat her wine glass down on the coffee table. "Stella, honey, you aren't making sense. Take a deep breath and explain this to me." 

I tried to take her advice, but no matter how many deep breaths I took I just got more angry. 

"Whenever I thought of ending it with Matthew, I would confide in my mom," I tried to explain calmly. "Each time she would be supportive but also try to tell me the good things about him."