Page 2 of Please Remember

I take a final look in the mirror by the front door and adjust the red tie that I’d decided to wear at the last minute. I know Laura doesn’t like red. She hates red because it was Allie’s favorite color, but it’s why I can never leave the house without something in the shade. Even if it’s just my boxers. It’s my way of keeping Allie with me. In spirit, at least.

Delaying. Procrastinating. Putting off the inevitable. So many ways to describe what I’ve been doing ever since I reluctantly clocked out of work today. Anything and everything I can think of to drag my feet when it comes to leaving this house has been done. The last thing I want to do is leave my fortress of solitude. The place I have listed to sell because I cannot even fathom the thought of another woman living in Allie’s home.

It may be pathetic, but I’ve kept everything almost exactly as Allie left it. I want it to be ready in case she ever comes back. She has yet to return, no matter how much I pray, barter, or threaten God. Everymorning, I hope she walks in the front door with an explanation of where she’s been for the past seven years.

Seven years. Well, seven years, three months, and two days, to be exact. I should be moving on. Hell, I’m currently running late to my own engagement party to Laura Dawson. It was always supposed to be Allison Bennett, and no matter how I may try and convince myself, my heart has and always will belong to Allie. But what else was I supposed to do when everyone told me it was time to let her go? That she’s gone, and she’s never coming back. That I need to accept it and get on with my life. Like it’s easy or something.

But how does someone just move on from the love of his life when he has no idea what happened to her? People don’t just disappear out of thin air. Not in this day and age. But that’s exactly what happened to my Allie.

“What am I doing?” I ask myself in the mirror, disbelief lacing my tone. “I’m keeping track of the days since Allie disappeared on the day of my engagement party. My engagement toanother woman. I don’t even know which part is crazier. The fact I’m still counting the days or that I plan to marry a woman I’m not even convinced I really like all that much. Who does that? Oh, right… me.”

How the hell did I get here? I last saw Allie the morning I planned to propose to her. She was supposed to meet me and our friends at the bar where I’d set up an elaborate party to pop the question. But after an hour, I knew she wasn’t just running late. Something had happened.

“It’s probably just a late meeting,” someone said. “She’ll be here.”

“Maybe she had a family emergency,” someone else said.

No. She would have called me if anything, beyond her normal tardiness, had delayed her. Allie was nothing if not predictable when it came to being late to anything. I’d joke about having to lie about the timeof our wedding just to hope she’d be there on time. Something wasn’t right, and when her Jeep was gone, too, I knew it. Felt it.

The cops, of course, interrogated me over and over again. The number of hours wasted asking me questions about Allie could have been spent actually finding the love of my life. They seem to want me to be the person who did something terrible to her because despite having an alibi and multiple witnesses, I’m still the number one suspect to this day. Like I could ever hurt Allie.

No matter how many times I tried to tell them that Allie is an amazing, beautiful, forgetful woman who makes my entire world go round, they still refuse to believe me. Her mother has played a nice hand in that, pushing them to waste time looking at me instead of whoever actually took Allie.

When she disappeared, my entire world stopped. I don’t know if I can say it ever started turning again, but I’ve learned to fake it. I’ve put on a happy face that I know everyone can see right through, but I’ve somehow managed to keep going. Just like they all told me I should.

The cops continued to come around every month. Then every two months. Then three, and then six. I always cooperated. At least it meant they were still looking, albeit in the wrong places, but I had hope that once they’d exhausted every avenue that led to me, they’d start looking elsewhere and would eventually find her. But it’s been two years now since they last reached out to ask the same questions I’ve answered a hundred times. The case is officially cold.

The fact no one is out there actively looking for Allie keeps me awake at night. To them, she’s dead. It’s what most of the people in our lives believe. I think they have to believe that because the alternative is too painful.

“Maybe I’d be putting our kids to bed tonight if the stupid cops didn’t take three weeks to start looking for you, Allie,” I say and look to one of the many pictures in the living room of the two of us. “What is it they say? The first forty-eight hours are the most crucial. Assuming they believe a crime was committed in the first place.” I release a shaky breath at the memory.

It wasn’t until day twenty-two that the cops realized this wasn’t just Allie abandoning me and her entire life. Her Jeep hadn’t been spotted anywhere. Her bank and credit cards remained unused. Her phone was dead or turned off. And she hadn’t taken out any large sum of money.

Regardless, she’s still gone. I don’t believe she’s dead, but wherever she is, I can’t get to her. So, I’ve done what everyone told me to—moved on. It’s taken me five years to even consider dating again, and the only reason I finally gave in was at the insistence of those closest to me.

Allie’s gone, Jax.

Allie wouldn’t want you living this way.

While I know they’re probably right, the truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever really move on. I mean, how does someone go on with their life after they found the person who made their life complete? I’ll never love anyone like I love Allie, and that seems to be the thing no one understands or really wants to.

Enter Laura. She’s nothing like Allie, which I think helped a little. Allie is shorter with killer curves, auburn hair, and beautiful blue eyes. Laura is tall and slim, has copper hair, and fake breasts. I’d never even considered the idea of dating Laura, but she has always been a constant in my life.

Ever since grade school. She’s always just kind of been there. That awkward kid with few friends, and I’d taken pity on her after a horrendousgame of dodgeball in gym class. It was the day I decided to be her friend and let her tag along.

After Allie went missing, Laura rarely left my side. It didn’t matter if I said I wanted to be alone; she was always there. The constantly present person in my life, and part of me hated it, while the other part hated being alone in the silent house more.

She knew Allie. She understood what this meant for me, and she defended me to the cops when they repeatedly made their accusations that I had anything to do with her disappearance. It was like she understood my devastation on a deeper level when no one else could.

For five years, she just sat there with me. And one day, she looked different. Her hair and makeup were done, and she listened to me talk about how, once again, people told me to move on. That it was time. That’s when she suggested I move on with someone I knew. Someone who knew me well enough to accept how much I love Allie and who wouldn’t make me feel guilty about it. That was the night I kissed her. Well, technically, she kissed me, but she likes to tell our friends it was me. And that was that.

“You’ve made your bed, Jax. It’s time to pay the piper. Suck it up and get your ass out that door. You’re already an hour late to your own engagement party.”

I open the front door we painted red shortly after moving in, and I pause for a moment to think about the fact someone else will walk in and out of this door one day. Or maybe they’ll paint it a different color.

“Stop it,” I mumble to myself. “You’ll never leave if you keep thinking about this.”

I step onto the porch, conscious everyone is waiting for me at the restaurant, but as I look at the sidewalk, I freeze dead in my tracks. Standing right there, right in front of me, is Allie.

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