HIM

22. Let's Make You Remember

2 days later

"Okay, so what's your master plan?" Enny asks me as I invite her inside the apartment. Amanda took Danny out earlier and she shouldn't be home for another few hours, which gives me a nice window of time to work with Enny.

"Well," I say, closing the door behind her. "I was thinking...what if I brought you to the most significant parts of your everyday life? Maybe your favorite restaurant or even your old bedroom? I feel like maybe if you came in contact with things that were really prominent in the past 5 years, it might jog your memory a bit?"

She plops down on the couch in the same way she always used to. She even sits in the place that she had deemed 'hers'. I watch in wonder, but don't say anything. "I think that could be a good idea," She says as she looks around the room. "Nice view you've got here, I really like it."

"You always did," I tell her, and she gives me a confused look. I elaborate, "That's why you insisted on buying this apartment."

She still looks really confused. "Did I..." she begins, but pauses. She bites her lip and I can almost see the gears turning in her head "Did I...live here?"

My heart drops and I feel the familiar ache that I get whenever I think about her. I take a seat across from her on an armchair. "Yes, you did. You and I lived here together for 3 years."

Her eyes widen and she leans forward in her seat. "Were we like...a thing?" She gestures between the two of us, her facial expression slightly appalled.

I laugh. "That's hilarious," I say, but deep down it kind of hurts me. I had three years to make a move on her, but I never did. I only got the courage to when she got herself a boyfriend. Hell, when I did tell her I loved her, it just caused this great giant mess. She's still waiting for an answer, and I frown. "No, we weren't a thing. Just best friends."

A sad expression overcomes her face. "Oh gosh, I feel horrible..."

"It's fine!" I exclaim, not wanting her to feel bad about anything. "You don't remember, it's okay!" I feel panicky trying to make her feel comfortable. I feel like all that I've done is make her feel sorry and confused.

"No, Caleb, stop trying to make me feel comfortable," She says in a semi-stern way and, I'm kinda surprised. "This is the kind of stuff that I need to remember. I mean, it's reality for crying out loud." She claps her hands together and looks me straight in the eye. I shift uncomfortably in the leather chair, and it makes some horrible squeak. "This is the life I lived, whether I remember it or not. It happened. Don't sugar coat anything. If it happened and it was significant, let me know, okay?"

I nod my head, and she smiles. "Thank you," She says. "So, you don't happen to have any pictures of us together, do you?"

I scoff. "Do I have any pictures of us together..." I stand up and walk over to the storage closet next to Enny's office. I open the door and bend down to pull out a large cardboard box full of picture frames and little objects from her room. Amanda thinks that I threw these away, but...I just couldn't. They all just seemed a little bit too important to just throw in the trash.

I drag the box to where she is sitting in the living room, and stand up. "There you go," I say, sitting back down in the chair across from her. "Pictures, your old belongings...just stuff that came from your room after...well...after you moved out."

"Oh, I moved out?" She asks me, picking up the first picture frame. "What happened?"

The picture in her hands is one of my all time favorites. It's from the summer after we had graduated high school. We were at the beach, and we were posing for a picture when a seagull decided to take a bathroom break on my shoulder. We started laughing just as the camera clicked, and it's pure joy that you can see in our eyes. The only thing that ruins it is the white goop flowing down my left shoulder.

She looks up at me, still awaiting my answer.

All I can do is shake my head. There's no way to tell her what happened without seeming like a creepy pervert. "Maybe later."

She purses her lips but doesn't pressure me into telling her anything. Instead, she puts the first picture frame on the table and reaches down for another one. This one was from our photo shoot that we did for a business ad kind of thing. I wear a suit and she's in a nice dress. We stand back to back, our arms crossed as we look at the camera.

"I like this one," she says to me, holding it up. "We look really professional."

I chuckle. "We were anything but professional."

"Tell me more about us," She tells me. "Like our relationship and how we met. Tell me all the juicy details."

"You like the juicy details, huh?" I say, lightly laughing. She nods her head, and I begin to think of where I could possibly start.

"Well," I begin. "We met in kindergarten but weren't really the best of friends back then. It wasn't until almost high school that we really started to become closer. Even though I went to a private school and you went to a public school, we still stayed in touch and managed to hang out every once in a while. It was during those few hang outs where we started drafting the idea for launching a social media app or company...whatever you wanna call it. I was good at programming and app design, and you were good at promoting and graphic design. We figured it was the perfect match up and we both invested quite a bit into creating what's now Caleny. Blah blah blah, flash forward to a few years later, we moved in here and the business started blowing up, then you moved out, and 2 years later here we are!"

She has a smile on her face. "We sound like fun people!"

"That's because we are!" I exclaim, laughing. I see her eyeing my glass of water on the table and realize that I've been a terrible host to my guest. "Do you want anything to drink? Soda? Vodka? Beer? Water? Capri Sun?"

"What kind of soda do you have?" She asks me.

I stand up and walk into the kitchen. Opening up the fridge, I glance around. "Well, there's some Pepsi...cherry sprite...root beer...yeah," I say to her and await her response. I stand in front of the fridge awaiting her answer, but one never comes. I furrow my brows and walk back into the living room, checking to see if she's okay.

She holds a picture frame in her hands, a hand over her mouth.

I slowly approach her, but she doesn't react to me coming near her, instead her gaze is fixed on the picture.

"Is everything alright?" I ask her cautiously since she seems pretty shook.

She looks up at me, pure surprise in her eyes. She hold the frame up to me, points at it and says, "I remember this."