Page 79 of A Whirlwind of Color (The Light to My Darkness 2)

“Hold that thought,” James said to me. “I want to keep talking about this. I just have to…” he nodded toward Scarlett.

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. I’ll just keep looking at the pictures. Even though you put them up to manipulate me, you never should have hidden them. They’re wonderful.”

He smiled as he glanced at one of our wedding photos. “They really are. I’ll be right back.”

“No, Daddy. I want her to do it.” Scarlett pointed at me.

I was pretty sure my whole face lit up. “Me?”

She nodded.

In a matter of minutes I had turned things around. I had been honest with James about needing to make my own decisions. And he seemed open to letting me figure things out. Or maybe he was just out of ideas on how to trick me. Regardless, it felt like progress. I was excited to talk to him more.

And it wasn’t just James I had made progress with. Had I really gotten Scarlett to like me? What the heck was happening? This weird world I had been thrust into was finally accepting me. “I’d love to.” I smiled at James before letting Scarlett grab my hand and lead me upstairs.

“I’m sorry that I made you sick,” I said, as I tucked her into bed.

“That’s okay.” She was still holding the book tightly against her chest.

“Do you want me to read that to you?”

She shook her head. “I have questions for you first.”

Oh crap. She brought me up here for a pop quiz? I already knew I was going to fail.

“What’s my favorite color?” she asked.

I looked at the walls in her room. “Pink?”

“Uh-uh. What’s my boyfriend’s name?”

She has a boyfriend at her age? That seemed preposterous. I wondered if James knew. “Um…”

“What’s my favorite cereal?”

“I…”

“What do you call me instead of pumpkin?”

This wasn’t a pop quiz. It was a rapid-fire inquisition. “I really don’t…”

“What’s my favorite book?”

“Scarlett, I’m sorry. I don’t know. But if you give it to me I can read it to you.” I held my hand out. I didn’t want to play this game anymore. It was making me feel horrible.

“I know you’re not my mommy.”

Ouch. “Yes I am. Sweetie, I’m right here.”

She slowly sat up, reached out, and put her hands on both sides of my face. I didn’t know what to do, so I stayed completely still. She ran her little hands over my forehead. And nose. And lips. And chin. And scrutinized my whole face before moving her hands back to my cheeks.

She squished her mouth to the side like she was thinking. “You look like my mommy,” she said. “And you sound like my mommy.” She shook her head. “But you’re not my mommy. I want her back. Can’t you bring her back?” Her bottom lip started to tremble.

My heart felt like it was breaking. She was just a kid but she still saw that I wasn’t the same. I wasn’t who she remembered. “I’m trying. I’m trying to remember. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you right now.”

“I miss her.”

Was she trying to make me cry in front of her? “I know. I miss her too.” It was the truth. I desperately wanted to remember her. I needed to remember her. And a piece of my heart knew I wanted to remember James too. If those pictures downstairs showed the truth, then I did love him. Somewhere deep inside of me I knew I did.

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