Chapter 67: Your Memory?

Chapter 67: Your Memory? Jamal’s breath caught in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs as he watched her lift her hands to her face. Slowly, she peeled off the mask, revealing the face beneath it. His stomach twisted into a tight knot and he shot up from the bed like a spring, his eyes wide, his mouth falling open. His pulse roared in his ears. Then, she shrugged as though what she had just done was the most normal thing in the world. "My turn." "No way! You’ve got to be kidding me!" His voice was loud, almost shaky. He took a step back, pointing at her. "You’ve been wearing a mask this whole time? Why? Why are you wearing a mask?" She didn’t even flinch at his reaction. Instead, she just looked at him with calm, steady eyes. "You asked why I looked different," she said, her voice even. "I showed you. My turn." Jamal dragged a hand down his face, his mind spinning in a hundred directions At this point he was beginning to feel like he needed a pen and jotter to write down all his questions because it seemed like the more questions she answered the more questions he had for her. Ignoring his flustered reaction, Abigail continued. "Why do you..." "Wait!" Jamal’s voice cracked slightly as he held up a hand. He shook his head and let out a breath. "Give me a minute. I’m not ready yet." How could he be ready? How could he just get used to the fact that he was looking into the face of the girl he had fallen for five years ago again. This was the face he had spent years picturing in his mind, wondering where she had gone, wondering if she was okay. When he had realized that the woman in front of him earlier that morning was the same Abigail from five years ago, something inside him had ached. For a moment he had felt sad that she looked different now, and he wasn’t going to be able to see that face from five years ago again. But now, it was right in front of him. Exactly the way he remembered her. Time had not erased the curve of her jaw, the shape of her lips, the way her eyes seemed to hold a thousand secrets. Even now, five years later she reminded him of Dawn. His heart pounded harder as a thought struck him. And she had named Lucy the Panda, Lucy. There was no way it could be what he was thinking, right? It wasn’t possible, was it? He stared at her, searching for something.— some sign or clue that would tell him he wasn’t losing his mind. Across from him, Abigail shifted in her seat. Her brows pulled together slightly as she watched him as he stood there staring at her and she couldn’t help but wonder why he was being dramatic. She tilted her head to the side, "I hate to rush you, but we don’t exactly have all day to sit here this way, regardless of whatever excuse you gave them," she said, her tone tinged with mild impatience. Jamal blinked, snapping out of his daze. He sucked in a breath and nodded. Right. She was right. He needed to focus. He returned to the bed and lowered himself to the edge of the bed once again, but he didn’t take his eyes away from her. It was as though he was scared to let her out of his sight again. "Fine. Go on," he muttered, wanting to get her question out of the way so he could ask his next question. She didn’t hesitate. "Why are you so interested in Genevieve?" She asked and Jamal shook his head. He opened his mouth to respond and then hesitated, deciding that he needed to word his response properly so there would be no room for any misunderstanding. "We used to be friends when we were kids. She was my best friend, sort of. That was when she was still Dawn," he explained, his voice softer as he mentioned the name. The room went still. Abigail’s heart lurched, a gasp catching in her throat. Her head felt light, almost dizzy. Jamal knew Dawn? Jamal had been friends with Dawn? This was impossible. She had spent years searching for answers and chasing shadows in her quest to piece together a past that felt more like a dream than a memory. And all this time, Jamal had been part of it? Was that the reason she began to have those nightmares and regain her memory after crossing path with him five years ago? Was this possible? Did it make any sense that of all the people she could have approached at the club she had approached Jamal, a childhood friend? Her stomach tightened. Was this fate? Was this what people meant when they talked about destiny? Was this the universe’s way of finally giving her a chance to uncover the truth? If Jamal had known her back then, then he would most likely have the answers she had been looking for all these years, wouldn’t he? "If you knew Dawn..." "My turn," Jamal cut her off before she could ask another question and she nodded, still shaken by the realization that had just hit her. Jamal leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked onto hers, "Why are you wearing a mask?" Abigail swallowed. "Ryan asked me to get plastic surgery but I didn’t want to so I opted for an hyper realistic mask." Jamal frowned in confusion, "Why would anyone, most especially your own father want you to have plastic surgery when you look perfect and more beautiful this way?" "Ryan is not my father," she blurted out before she could stop herself. "He is Genevieve’s father not mine," she said, both of them forgetting the rules of their conversation now. "But he told me you’re his illegitimate daughter," Jamal said, still trying to get the picture. "That was what he told me too, until I began to regain my memory," she said, still staring at him. "Your memory?" Jamal asked, his heart beginning to race now. He could tell where this was going, but a part of him was finding it hard to believe that something like that could have happened. There was no way it was possible, Jamal told himself. "I don’t remember you, Jamal. But I do know that I began to regain my memory after crossing paths with you five years ago. My name is Dawn and my mother’s name is Kimberly Moore."