Recalling Reality

Chapter 32

I pull a book off the most recent shelf and I slip into the large, oversized recliner in the corner of the room. If I wrote this book, that meant I was an author. I was someone. But, why can't I remember anything about it?

I open the first page and, then the second. When I reach the dedication page, my heart trips and tears swell in my eyes.

To, Ryan Prescott. Once again, you proved to be the best friend I've ever had. Thank you so much for being there for me.

If I dedicated this book to him, no wonder why Shane was so angry with me. Shane was the man who took me in, saw me for all my wrongs, and pieced together my broken heart. Why would I do anything bad to him? And why was I calling Ryan my best friend and not Shane. Shane was the one who worked in marketing. And he was the one who suggested all those things I should do in order to promote my books.

Award winning author, was another boost on this book. And it had to be because of Shane.

I do recall writing, but my writing was going nowhere and I never bothered to check my accounts to see what my royalties were. Shane was the one who decided to take over that for me. That, I do remember because I was staying over at his house, and it was before my brother's wedding.

And speaking of my brother. There was no way Quinn took his own life. He was too strong, just like his mother. And as for hitting me with his car, I survived. So, there was no reason to be upset over it.

"Do you remember me?" At the door, the little girl with the dark curls stands holding tight to a large stuffed cat. An older stuffed cat that had some wear and tear to it.

I make my way over to her, and she hands me the animal. I hold it up, and the tears instantly come to my eyes. This was the cat Shane bought for me at the zoo. It was after I... met Ryan Prescott.

"What is your name?"

I clinch knowing how that must have sounded, especially coming from a mother to a daughter. If I was really her mother. And if I was, I would never forget having given birth to such a beautiful little girl.

"Josie. You said it was your favorite name, and that was why you wanted to call me Josie." A little tear walks down her innocent porcelain face, and clings onto her chin. "Daddy, said he doesn't know why you are acting the way you are. But, I told him that something is wrong. What's wrong, Mommy?"

I wrap my arms around the tiger and hold it tight to my chest. My heart is sinking, and it actually feels like it's having trouble beating. Hoc am I supposed to look at her, my own daughter, and tell her that I have no recollection of having her, of knowing her, or even watching her grow up?

Why? Why do I not know the past five years of my life? Why do I not know her? Why does Shane hate me as much as he does?

"Do you know Quinn? Um, your uncle?"

"Gramma talks about him. Uncle Taylor does also, but I don't know him. I just know him in pictures." She walks in and goes to the large recliner. "I miss you, Mommy. I don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"Mad at you?" My chest muscles rip and shred, knives slice and dice inside of me. My stomach is beginning to churn just thinking if why I would ever be mad at the sweetest little girl I've ever met. "Josie, I'm not sure why I don't remember, but I don't think I would ever stay mad at you for very long."

"That's what Gramma says. And Gramma tells Daddy that he's being silly."

"Why's that?"

"Gramma says it's because he's being stupid about something." She shrugs.