Our Last Dance

Chapter 19

I lay there for a moment, my heart still racing, trying to catch my breath. Elijah... it was him. In my dream. The guy with the dimples. How could it be?

Panic began to grip me as I sat up, my mind swirling with questions. How could Elijah be the guy from my dreams? What did it mean? Did it mean anything at all?

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of confusion that had settled over me. This couldn't be real. It was just a dream, right? But it felt so vivid, so lifelike.

Was there something more to my connection with Elijah? Something beyond friendship? Or was my mind just playing tricks on me, mixing reality with the fragments of my memories?

Taking a deep breath, I tried to push aside the overwhelming thoughts and focus on the present. I couldn't let a dream dictate my feelings or my actions. I needed to stay grounded, to take things one step at a time.

But no matter how hard I tried to rationalize it, the image of Elijah's face, his smile, his dimple, lingered in my mind, haunting me with its familiarity.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to dispel the unsettling thoughts racing through my mind. Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to make sense of it all.

"It can't be," I whispered, the words barely audible as I breathed through my mouth, trying to steady my racing heartbeat. "Elijah wouldn't do that to me."

Pressing my back against the headboard, I covered my mouth with trembling hands. The realization felt like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest, suffocating me with its implications.

"He wouldn't lie to..." My voice faltered, choked by the lump forming in my throat. I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence, the truth too painful to acknowledge. The thought of Elijah, the person I trusted, being connected to the mysterious figure in my dreams was too much to bear.

I let out a sob, the realization hitting me like a tidal wave. Elijah, too? He was part of the deception, part of the lies woven around me by my own family. How could I have been so blind?

It all started to make sense now—the way he was always there for me, the unwavering support and belief he showed when I confided in him about my visions and dreams. His promise to help me remember, his actions that seemed to trigger my visions.

And those visions... it was him. Every time he drew on my palm, it triggered a vision. How could I have been so oblivious? How could I have missed the signs?

I berated myself, anger and frustration bubbling up inside me. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have trusted him?

He lied. That's all he did. He lied to me, just like my parents. And for what? To protect me? Or to protect himself?

The thought made my blood boil. Knowing how much I struggled with my visions and dreams, how much it tormented me, he still didn't come clean.

As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, a sense of disbelief and anger washed over me. If it was truly about protecting me from remembering Elijah, then why resort to such extreme measures? Giving me tablets to suppress my memory, lying to me, manipulating me—it was all too much.

I had remembered now, and I was still here, still breathing. It wasn't like I had suffered a cardiac arrest or slipped into a coma again. So why did they go to such lengths?

If it was as simple as him being my boyfriend in the past, why the need for secrecy? Why not just tell me the truth? The questions swirled in my mind.

There must be something that I was missing.

I wiped my tears, clenching my jaw.

And then there was Esha. I had always sensed that she was hiding something, but I never imagined it would be this. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.