When I’m wheeled into the dining hall, my eyes are drawn to brown hair, sexy stubble, and milk chocolate eyes. His eyes are on mine, and we’re locked. There’s no way that’s him. What would be the chances of that? He starts to wheel his way to me. I feel my skin reddening. “Drew?” He caresses my cheek, and I lean into his touch. I close my eyes as he pulls me closer. He whispers, “I didn’t know if you had made it.” “So it was you?” I ask. “Yeah, do you not remember?” “I do, kinda.” I shrug. “I didn’t know if it was real.” He rubs his nose on mine as he inhales sharply. “You smell the same as you always have. Like the sweetest nector, like honeysuckle in the summer.” My heart is thumping so hard it might beat out of my chest. Being in his arms feels like a fairytale. It feels like a dream. “And you asked me once before if I was real and the answer has always been yes.” I hear a lady say, “Mr. Wilder.” He releases me as she says it again, and I realize she’s talking to him. Who is Mr. Wilder? He shrugs as he's wheeled away, out of my sight. My mind is in a million places. Is this real? I must be dreaming.
Cut Scene 2
“Memaw?” “Uh huh,” she utters from the kitchen. “Do you have those letters that you said were sent to me? The ones from that name...um...I can’t remember the name.” I snap my fingers, as if that’s going to help me remember. “You know? The letters I got in rehab.” She nods her head and points to the drawer in the side table beside the couch. It’s where all of the keepsakes are kept, important non-bill items. “Thanks,” I say as I open it and pull them out.