CHAPTER 8 DREAMS ARE MEMORIES.

The toy

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“Ariel, save me!” I screamed, my eyes opened,casting its gaze on the ceiling. As I rose, I caught a whiff of pancakes. That’s right, Damon was here. I ran to the kitchen.

I had to force Damon to sleep on the chair; I couldn’t bear the thought of him lying on a bed where I had sex with another man. Since I was mad at him about the charity event, he complied without suspecting anything.

“Good morning, Binky.” Damon greeted me, standing shirtless with an apron on and exposing his perfectly sculpted muscles.

“What are you doing in my kitchen?” I settled into the dining area situated at the center of the kitchen.

“Our kitchen,” he retorted, "is making you breakfast.” Damon handed me a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and hotdogs. “What happened to my alcohol?” He asked.

My stomach twisted as I remembered myself and Logan drinking it yesterday. “I poured them down the sink,” I replied, turning my face away from him.

“You what? That wine was motherfucking expensive.” He snapped.

“I know that’s why I threw it out. I was angry, and I am still angry with you,” I shot back. “Why didn’t you take me off the charity event?” I quickly changed the topic.

I’d wanted to discuss it earlier this morning when he came in, but he was too drunk and beaten up for a conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about anything that happened last night,” he replied, squinting at me.

I scoffed. “It’s easy for you to move on when you’re not the one being called crazy,“ I began, folding my arms.

“I’ll handle the media,” he interrupted me. “Let’s not talk about it, okay?" He added.

Knowing Damon, once he decided not to discuss something, no force on earth could make him change his mind. Not even if it would save the world.

“Did you have a nightmare?” His voice softened.

“How do you know about that?” My eyes opened.

“I came up to check up on you; I heard you muttering to yourself.” He replied.

“I wouldn’t call them nightmares.” I began to eat, even though I didn’t want him to think he could earn my forgiveness with food. I was just too hungry to care.

“Anything that makes you scream out of fear or panic is a nightmare.” He settled into the seat across from me.

“So, you are a nightmare?” I raised a brow.

“Nice one.” He chuckled. “What was the dream about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it," I stated, a wry smile creeping onto my face.

He moved closer, his amber eyes staring into mine. “Come on, tell me.”

And like an idiot, I spilled. “Ariel and I were playing with our dolls, then my mum dragged her away and locked her in a dark room. I started begging her to save me.” I wasn’t sure if I answered because I wanted him to back off or because I was too weak to resist this man. He would have kept pressing until I gave in, and unlike him, I couldn’t hold out.

“So your mother locked her up, yet you begged to be saved?" Damon said he was trying to make sense of it.

“My aunt said my mother loved Ariel, so why would she lock her up?” I wondered aloud, pondering about the dream, “Anyway, dreams aren’t supposed to make sense all the time.” I said it because I couldn’t figure it out.

“They might be memories.”

“I doubt that.” I scoffed at the idea.

Aunty Mary said I hated her since I was compared to her every moment of my life, yet in my dream, I loved her so much it felt like I could die without her.

“What are you thinking?” Damon asked, raising my chin with his hand.

“Nothing.” I shoved his hand off my chin. My eyes were falling on the bruises near his lips, and I just had to ask. “What happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” he said, taking the plates and slipping them into the sink.

“You have a bruise on your face.” I raised my brows, folding my arms.

“I just said I don’t want to talk about anything that happened last night,” he reiterated.

“And I just told you about my dream, even when I didn’t want to talk about it.” My face contorted into a frown.

Exhaling in defeat, he replied, “I can barely remember; I was drunk. I was so surprised to wake up here this morning,” he said with a seductive smile playing on his lips.

"Damon, get out of my house.” I blurted out.

His eyes widened. He never fully opened up to me, yet I did. Every time I tried to understand what was going on in his life, he shut me out, reminding me of my place in his life.

“This is my house too." A frown was etched across his face.

Without a word, I went to the living room and got his shirt and tie. I handed it over and pushed him towards the door.

“What’s wrong with you?” He questioned.

“When you figure out who you want in your life, you can come back—until then, bye.” I slammed the door shut.

I went back upstairs to prepare and leave the house. I had to discuss this with Jessie.

*****

I sat by the window of Jessie’s and my favorite restaurant, watching two couples play lovebirds outside. I couldn’t help but wonder why I couldn’t have that.

“Jessie!” I called as soon as she walked in. She smiled, making her way over to me.

“How are you feeling? I hope Damon didn’t come to bother you at home,” she said, settling into the seat across from me.

“Of course not,” I lied. I couldn’t tell her the truth. She’d be furious if she found out Damon had stayed over. She might even decide to move in with me just to fend him off every time he shows up.

“So, what do you think of Logan?” She giggled.

“We had sex,” I blurted out, my cheeks flushing as I took a sip of juice.

“What?” Her mouth dropped open. “Damn, that was quick.” She giggled again.

Jessie wasn’t judging. We were both suckers for fine men. Wherever we were, we couldn’t resist checking them out as they came and went.

“How was it?” she asked, a wide smile still on her face.

“It was nice,” I replied, not ready to admit that Damon had been on my mind almost the entire time. “But I don’t think I’m in love with him.”

She paused for a moment before bursting into laughter. “If it were that easy to fall in love, we’d all be in love. Just use him to get over Damon.” Jessie’s advice was blunt. She might love fine men, but she wasn’t a sucker for love. She used men to satisfy her desires, nothing more.

“We—” A sharp pain shot through my head, causing me to shut my eyes and wince. An image of either myself or Ariel, smiling and holding a man’s hand, flashed through my mind. I couldn’t tell who it was since we looked so alike. The pain lasted a few seconds before I regained my composure.

“Are you okay?” Jessie asked, concern etched on her face.

“Yeah,” I replied, still disoriented.

This had to be a memory. Were my memories coming back? I turned to Jessie and asked, “Can dreams be memories?”

“Are your memories coming back?” Her eyes gaped, her tone growing intense.

I recounted my dream to her.

“They could be,” she replied thoughtfully.

“Why now? It’s been about a year,” I pondered aloud.

“Something must have triggered it,” Jessie remarked. “What’s new in your life?” she asked.

What was new in my life? I racked my brain for answers.

“The only new thing in my life is Logan,” I said.

Jessie looked at me for a few seconds before commenting, “I doubt Logan has anything to do with this. He didn’t strike me as someone who knew you.”

I didn’t respond. I should have been happy about getting my memories back, but if everything my aunt had said was true, then my childhood memories were better left forgotten. I’d rather deal with amnesia than confront that trauma.