Just a Memory

Prologue

Prologue

"Daddy, I don't want to go to bed," my precious daughter's voice rang out as her little feet ran across the wooden floor of my apartment.

I pick up C.J. and hold her tight. I stare longingly at the door, the one that my wife just walked out of exactly two years ago. The one that I slammed when I told her to never come back. The one I walked through while holding the divorce papers. The one I wanted to run out of right now.

I brush my daughters sloppily tied hair out of her face. "I know, sweetie. But tomorrow is a special day and you need your rest."

"What if I fall down on the stage?" C.J asked. My daughter was a dancer. Although she had started only two years ago, she had made remarkable progress and was now the youngest one in her class. I was so proud of her, and I hoped she knew it. "You won't, C.J. You are the best dancer on that stage and you'll do perfectly."

When she doesn't say anything, I nudge her playfully and say "We can get ice cream and pizza afterwards," I said with a smile. I see a smile break out on her face. "Strawberry ice cream?" she asked happily.

"Any ice cream you want," I said. In hindsight, giving your daughter all the ice cream she asked for is a bad idea, but I had been rather absentminded lately and I didn't want her to think that I didn't love her anymore. C.J was always my number one priority, and she meant the world to me. This past week, whenever I looked at her all I saw was Reece.

I carried C.J. back to her pink room. It was bright, despite the darkness of the night, and the sparkling of her glow in the dark ballerina stickers reminded me to be happy. The luminescent smiles of her stuffed animals filled me with joy at the memory of making them with her at Build-A-Bear. We had the perfect family then; just the three of us living in a small Los Angeles apartment. That was only two years ago; so much had changed since then.

"Can you turn on the light?" C.J asked me.

"Sweetie, you have to go to bed," I said, although my hand began to hover next to the light switch. I could see the moon reflecting off of her big blue eyes. Her mother's eyes. Wide, unblinking, persistent. "I just want to see something," she pleaded.

I turned on the light and she stood up on the bed. Her wall had her full name written in stickers; Camille Jamie. Reece and I spent the whole day trying to find the perfect ones to surprise her, and Reece had gone before we had the chance to put them up together. 

"What do you want to see?" I asked her, holding my arms out in case she fell. She stuck something on the ceiling. I looked up at it.

"Jenny gave it to me," she explained. It was a glow in the dark star, one that I had when I was little, except hers was pink. "You have to turn the lights out in order to see it," I said.

"Why? I can still look at it," she said. I smiled. My daughter was a world-class procrastinator. "Some things are prettier with the lights out," I said to her, tucking her in.

I gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Daddy!" she chimed.

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I sat alone in my room with the TV on. I'd been trying to get used to sleeping alone, and after all this time it was still foreign to me. I searched the channels for something to suffice as a distraction, and Mad Men just wasn't cutting it tonight. I was positive I had scrolled through all the channels. I thought of going to the bar for a drink, but then I remembered that Reece was no longer here to watch C.J. 

I threw the remote down in my frustration and it hit a picture frame on the nightstand opposite mine. Reece's old nightstand. I picked the frame off the floor and set it back on the stand. There was a crack in the glass. It was a wedding photo, Reece and I on our wedding day. It was a perfect Saturday afternoon in the summer. San Diego was beautiful, I was happy that I could persuade Reece to get married there instead of Vegas.

I looked wistfully at the photo, trying to remember a time when I was so happy; and it was only five years ago. We were both twenty-two and we had finished college at UCLA only four months before the wedding. Reece wasn't just some girl I met during an Economics class; she was a long time constant - a best friend. I had known her since I was one years old. I chuckled to myself remembering how much we had been through before we had even got close to planning that wedding.