The Butterfly Effect

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Her smile fit uncomfortably on her face, the expression so foreign for her.

"Dani, babe, you gotta stop sulking in the corner," Alexander laughed, before pulling Danielle towards the swarm of laughing masses making small talk and cracking jokes on the terrace. They looked so happy.

And it was a lovely day, fit for the joyous event that had happened here. Elizabeth, Alexander's little sister, had just gotten married. They had looked so happy, her in a fluffy white dress laughing down the isle. Alexander had watched their father walk Lizzie down, so proud with the broadest smile on his face. Danielle could barely believe it.

It was just last night that man threw her across the floor.

"Come on," Alexander murmured in her ear, arm draped around her waist, to what others might think was intimate whispers to a lover. But they didn't see his grip on her hip, or the edge to his voice. "You're embarrassing me. Get out there and smile."

And Danielle did. But she would never be able to forget how dead she felt then.

"...—back. Miss? Miss, did you understand what I just said?" Danielle looked back towards her doctor, and nodded with a polite, small smile that she was trained to sport, like a dog taught to shake hands.

"Yes, thank you."

The doctor and nurses left after a few checkups, and Danielle was once again left to herself. That day, at Elizabeth's wedding, was one of the worst days of her life. The night before was one of the worst times Alexander had hurt her, and had soothed her into bed with apologies and promises to do better. And he did, in a way; he got better at hiding her pain.

That wedding was a broken dream for Danielle. It was the moment that she realized she would never have this pure happiness with Alexander or possibly anyone. All her fantasies of a white wedding or sharing her life with a husband as a child were nothing but the delusions of a little girl. If she ever did make it down the aisle, she would've limped. Every beloved kiss would be a lie.

And yet Danielle swallowed her fear and smiled anyways.

Enough, please. Just stop thinking about this.

Her eyes traced back to the clipboard of sheets and lab results at the end of her bed. She had told the police that she didn't remember her name, or who she was. The doctors had a long medical name for the disorder, and Danielle nodded along as Dr Wei explained it to her. She knew lying was the best way to keep her safe, but she felt so bad as she watched the doctor try to console her, saying how in most cases, all memories would come back with time.

She also mentioned taking pictures if she wanted to create an abuse case with the police, but she couldn't bring herself to think about that now.

Instead, she looked at the card. Roman Konstantinos. What a strange man. He stared with a boy's fear on his face and hid it with a businessman's cold exterior. But Danielle refused to be tricked anymore. Alexander's mask had been the thickest, and now that she saw—experienced what was underneath those inviting eyes, she would never let herself be fooled again.

She thought back to the man again, and traced his outline with her mind.

He was handsome, there was no doubt. But Alexander had been too, impossibly so with his beach blond hair and light eyes. Danielle thought of him as the perfect boy next door, and realized instead he was instead that neighbor that beat his wife at night.