Forgetting the Murder

24: Explanation

Is it such a bad thing to live in the past? People say it is, but maybe it isn't as bad as it's cracked up to be.

What if your past was so much brighter than your future? The future can hold dark and scary things, while your past might be happy and bright.

Sometimes I think that if you were going on a walk and in the mile ahead of you it's raining, but the mile you just walked was sunny; which route would you choose?

Although it's not that easy in life. There comes a time where you realise you can't live in the past and that you have to move on, with your chin up and your shoulders back.

***

The next morning I woke up feeling just like the last - horrible. My headache was a hundred times worse though because I was hungover; so I also looked worse. Last night had been a night I was not proud of. I was irresponsible and stupid. It was added to my mental list of regrets.

I got up out of bed and got ready slowly, I decided today was a day for an explanation. Not from Damien though, I couldn't face him any time soon.

That was another problem, I hated Damien for what he did and that he kept it from me, and I tried my best to be angry but there was a part of me - and I was unsure of how big that part of me might actually be - that still loved him, and knew that I loved him. It felt like it was only a matter of time before he would be forgiven.

Every time this thought came through I pushed it away to the back of my mind. I kept telling myself I was furious and reminded myself of what he did and that it wasn't acceptable, not at all.

After a lot of thinking, I concluded that I would visit Gabrielle - or at least I would try as I wasn't a hundred per cent sure that she was still alive. She just seemed like she was my only hope.

I spent my morning searching for her. I remember Damien mentioning one time that he used to know a Gabrielle Garcia, so I assumed that was her name. When I checked the phone book there was one Gabrielle Garcia, although I didn't know where she lived. I could tell from the number that she was local, so I checked the registry.

There was a Garcia that lived about a ten minute drive from my apartment block. I decided that I should try it, since I had nothing left to lose.

I took my car and drove to the house I thought to be Gabrielle's. The house I pulled up to was a terraced Victorian house. It looked very grand. I walked up to the door and knocked on it lightly, before taking a step back and waiting.

It wasn't long before a very attractive woman with long, dark brown curly hair who looked a few years older than me answered the door. I was right, this was Gabrielle's.

"Can I help you?" she asked me politely.

"Yes, I'm Abby Winston and I'm here about Damien O'Kane."

The look on her face explained that she knew exactly what I meant. She opened the door further before gesturing for me to come in.

Gabrielle led me into a spacious living room with cream walls. I sat down on a brown leather sofa opposite another which Gabrielle sat on. It was silent for a while before Gabrielle spoke;

"Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?"

"No thanks," I objected. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?"

"I have an idea," she admitted, "I know you aren't the police, anyway."

I shook my head, "I'm not. I just want to know your story,"

"Tell me yours first, if you don't mind,"

I took a deep breath before beginning, "I was driving home from work one day when I found Damien - or how I knew him, Zeke - and he had amnesia. So, I took him home and cared for him, but it wasn't long before I fell for him.