Remember Me

He is gone for good now. After hours of waiting for him to recover from his surgery, I walked towards the operating room. That was when I heard the doctors pronounce him dead. I collapsed to the floors, my mind flooded with denial. I couldn't believe he was gone. It amazed me how he only took his eyes off the road for a second, then he collided with a truck. His injuries were so severe, the doctors were positive he wouldn't survive the surgery, but they agreed to try. But as they expected, it failed miserably. My husband, Vincent Billings, was deceased. Vincent made a huge difference in my life. He was there for me when I lost my house and my job to the Cov-27 pandemic, when I was informed by him that lost my mom to Diabetes and when we lost our first child. He would sit by my side for hours, holding me close as I sobbed into his arms and comforting me. He would prepare my favorite recipes and sing me soothing songs. He was a phenomenal chef and singer. Some days, I could still hear the faint strums of his guitar and his soft deep voice humming melodiously. We were a team, and when he passed away that night, I lost my other half. Life had took a blade and slained my already wounded heart.

My entire world was destroyed when he passed away. I could barely get out of bed, let alone pay my rent and utilities. Staying home provided little comfort. It was so devastating to be alone in our apartment, where memories of him lingered everywhere and nights were impossible to sleep, without him holding me in his robust arms. I couldn't get through days without crying before. My brother, Jason, had to help me with payments for my rent. It took some time, but miraculously, I somehow pulled what was left of me together and slowly carried on with my life. For months, I buried myself in my work as a botanist. I tried to stay occupied from the grief by caring for all sorts of plants and vegetables. Although it brightened my days to see roses blossom and saplings grow frail wood stems, it didn't relieve the pain I felt coming home to an empty house filled with darkness and dead silence instead of Vincent cooking our dinner. Life had become so empty without my other half, so I decided to sort through his things and keep what I could long cherish.

One day, I was cleaning the house for a yard sale, when I came across a gift box buried within Vincent's favorite blazer. Inside were two tickets for a plane trip to the tropical island of Zinnias. I had always told him how I yearned to go to Zinnias for vacation. However, he always rejected the idea. I figured it must have been an act he put on to not spoil the

surprise. How sweet of you, Vincent! You wanted to surprise me for our anniversary! I thought, hugging the tickets to my chest as a smile spread across my face. I turned to hug Vincent, but I was hit by reality when no one else was there with me. It had been a long time since I've traveled without him, but he would have wanted me to enjoy the vacation, so I decided to make the best out of it and travel to Zinnias.

I spend the next few weeks changing my work schedule and convincing Jason to watch the house for me. Jason had never liked Vincent for some reason, but now that he was deceased, Jason was more supportive to me than before. He helped me pack for the trip and offer to drive me to the airport. Once everything is set, I pack up the essentials and check the reservation for my hotel room and seat. We didn't have a lot of money, so this was going to be a budget trip for me. I was used to non luxurious places, so it wasn't a big deal for me. When the day arrives, I fix my long blonde hair into a large bun, throw on a dress and put my mask on and join Jason in the car. He drives me to Valentina international airport, then makes sure I have everything I need before bidding me goodbye.

After hours of waiting in line at the TSA checkpoints, missing my first flight and having my second flight be delayed, I wearily take my seat in the economy section of the plane, ignoring the screaming baby in the seat behind me and the lively chatter all around. I put on my headphones and browse Netflix series that Vincent and I used to watch together. Vincent would always make funny commentary on the shows we watched, so I would be too busy laughing at his jokes to watch the show. It feels as if no matter what I do or where I go, precious memories of him linger everywhere. I want to move forward with my life, but Vincent's death has slowed it down to a grinding halt. Unable to watch anything, I put on my earplugs and try to fall asleep amongst the cacophony.

A few hours later, I awake to a dazzling sight. Sparkling turquoise waters surround a large island filled with deep green patches of palm trees with colorful fruit and flowers. I gaze at the ocean in astonishment. The waters were so clear, it was easy to make out a pod of dolphins swimming with other colorful fish and coral reefs. Never before in my life have I ever seen the aquatic plants up close. There were so many different species, it was remarkable. It was a refreshing sight compared to the full buildings and littered sidewalks I saw daily. Alongside the trees were large golden buildings towering over the trees. Those buildings must be resorts...ones too expensive for me to stay in. I thought, suddenly feeling disappointment flood my mind. My trip wasn't going to be the most beautiful, but at least I am grateful to have the luxury of going on vacation to begin with.

Once the plane lands, I dodge and weave through the crowd of passengers to baggage claim and head out of the airport. The hot sun mercilessly beams onto my skin, but thankfully, the cool salty breeze of the ocean keeps me cool. Aromas from food stands of grilled chicken kebobs with green peppers and onions are very tantalizing. Tourists walk by, checking out nearby food stands and clothing stands. I spot a man painting a woman's portrait nearby and a family looking at a pottery display. They all looked tempting, but I force myself to look for a nearby taxi.

Eventually, I find one and gaze longingly at the golden buildings and manicured lawns with tropical flowers. I snapped a few pics of them and make sure to study them. The glitzy buildings are soon replaced with empty

roads with boarded buildings. Bright red graffiti art covered the walls of former homes and businesses and homeless people were scattered around, wiping car windshields and digging in a dumpster. The driver soon pulls up to an old brick building with graffiti scribbled on its side and a small yellowish lawn. It had a banner that said, "Welcome to the Rose hotel." Bracing myself for a terrible trip, I pay the driver and walk into the lobby.

The lobby is just as old as the outside of the building. Black carpets covered in dust line the floors with tearing leather sofas and a single desk in the middle. The receptionist, a man dressed in a suit and wearing a face shield looks up. "Hi, ma'am. How are you doing?" He says. "Fine. I have a reservation here for Hera Billings." I said, handing him my ID. He nods and types on a laptop for a while, then frowns. "It looks like your room was booked for two. Is someone coming later on?" "No." "We currently don't have any smaller rooms available, so you will have to spend the next days in our large rooms. You may have to share a room with someone--" "I'm sorry?" I said, my voice rising. He gives me an exhausted look. "It's something that occasionally happens here, but if so, we only charge you for a single room and give you free room service for your entire stay." "But I didn't come here to share a room with a stranger! Can I please have my money back? " "I'm sorry, ma'am, no refunds." says, handing me my card and a key. "We will move you to another room when it's available, but for now please enjoy your stay." I wanted to make a bigger deal out of this, but then I remember that I am on a budget trip and I don't have the money to afford to go to another hotel. I reluctantly take the keys and walk away, crestfallen.

I make my way up to the second floor and immediately find room 202. I open the door to see a simple beige room with two white beds, a television on the wall and a desk next to a large window with a view of the ocean in the distance. I set my suitcase down and sit on the bed near the window. The blankets smell of lavender detergent. "Well, at least it's clean." I said. Exhausted from my trip and jetlagged, I take a quick shower and change into one of the bath robes I packed. Just as I begin to close my eyes, there's suddenly a loud Click! and the door opens.

I gape in shock as a man in his late twenties carrying a duffle bag and pullings a suitcase. The man's slanted blue eyes widen. "I'm sorry, isn't this room 202?" His soft, baritone voice is full of confusion. I don't

respond, unable to look away from him. He's tall with a sculpted figure, his tan skin covered in a sheen of sweat. He had short blonde hair and bold brows. He hesitantly steps into the room. "Do I have the wrong room?" He asks. "Uh...I was assigned to this room." I said, breaking out of my reverie. "So was I. Maybe this is a mistake?" The man asks. "No mistake. The hotel assigned us the same room. And no other suites are available." I said. "The receptionist told me that occasionally they have people share rooms." I explain. "How can they put us together during a pandemic?!" He asks, frustrated. "I'm just as confused as you are. But the manager said he had no other suites available. He says he'll let us know if one opens." I calmly reply.

"We have two beds, so we don't need to be worried about sleeping arrangements. And we can share a bathroom." The man says, awkwardly. He sits on the other bed. "I, um, haven't told you my name. I'm Liam. And I'm guessing you are--" "I'm Hera Billings." I said. Liam's face softens with recognition. "Hera.. Billings?" "Have we met before?" I ask. Liam shakes his head. "We haven't, but back at my old job, I remember a coworker named Vincent who would always talk about his wife, Hera." I sit up in my bed. "You were Vincent's coworker?" "Yes. How is he?" My face falls. "He..died in a car accident a few months ago." Liam goes quiet for a while, waves of different emotions surging through his face. He glumly looks back at me. "I'm sorry for your loss." He says. "I miss Vincent everyday, but I'm slowly moving on, like he would have wanted me to." " I imagine it's been difficult for you." I nod. "If you want to talk, I'm a great listener." Liam says. "Thanks," I said, sarcastically. As if he understands what it's like to lose someone who was your entire world. I thought, pulling the blankets over my head.

Three days pass and Liam and I try to stay out of each other's way for the most part, but he sometimes invites me to join him for long walks on the beach and treats me to dinner and drinks. I occasionally invite him to yoga classes and explain all kinds of tropical plants to him. He seems interested in botanical gardens, but I think he's only being polite. On the final days of the vacation, him and I have warmed up to each other, sharing our dreams and what we think the future has in store for us. One night, Liam and I are walking across the shore as he finishes telling me a story about his life."Now that you and I are about to leave this island, there's something else I need to tell you...about Vincent, now that he's gone." Liam says.

I gasp. "What?! Was he.. cheating on me?" I ask, the mere thought of betrayl causing me to tear up. To my relief, Liam shakes his head. "No, but I will explain the truth to you. Hold out your hand." He says. I hesitantly hold out my hand. Liam turns my hand around, so my wedding ring twinkles in the dim moonlight. He slowly slides his hand next to mine. I stare down at his big hand in disbelief. On his ring finger, was the exact same ring that I wore. We both remain silent for a second, when I speak up. "You... have the same ring as me?" "That's because I was the one who proposed to you." My mouth goes dry. "You mean--" Liam takes my hands. "I am the actual man you married." I stand before him, bewildered by the sudden revelation. Did this man really just tell me he's my husband? How could I be married to him? I couldn't be married to him! Positive that he is lying about this, I look at him, astounded.

"How is this possible?" Liam sighs. He pulls out a wedding certificate. I recognize my signature on the document. "My love, Hera, you suffer from a rare mental illness known as dissociative amnesia. You and I lived a quiet life here on Zinnias when a guy kidnapped you. He must have noticed your condition and he took advantage of your situation. Your parents and our daughter have been worried about you." "But Vincent told me my mom passed away." Liam glares. "That's bullshit! Both of your parents are alive and well." He pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of me eating with an older couple. The woman shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes as me. "Mom?" I said, feeling a pang of familiarity. A faint flashback of me and my parents sharing a dinner runs through my head. I slowly begin to remember that final day my parents, Jason and I were together.

Liam then scrolls through a library of pictures of me and him together. Starting from on our wedding day, to the day I gave birth to a baby. There I was, laying in a hospital bed, tubes on my face, holding a baby in my arms that looked exactly like me and Liam. The memories slowly begin to flow through my head. "We were trying...for months." I said. Liam's face lights up, as he takes my hands. "She was born on.." he continues. "November 18, 2019." I said. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. "And her name is..Noella!" Liam laughs joyfully as I tightly embrace him. "Liam!" "Hera, my love, you remembered!!" I leap into his arms and the two of us share kisses. "I'm so sorry I left you and Noella!" I sob. "It's okay, it's okay." He says as I cry onto his chest. "You forgot because of your illness." He kisses me once more. "But you remembered in the end. I'm so happy to have you back in my life, Hera!" "I'm happy to have you back, Liam! Let's go see our baby girl." I say, leading Liam back towards the hotel.

Liam explained that he found out through Facebook where my brother was. He was determined to get me home, so he poured his savings account out and arranged the reservation for me and him to meet at a hotel. My brother helped him by planting the tickets where I would find them. They were working on a plan to get Vincent arrested, but he unfortunately passed away before they could. Without Vincent to worry about, all they needed to do was get me to come to Zinnias, where I previously lived. Then the plan followed through without any problems, according to Liam. I now understand why Jason was so disdainful towards Vincent. It still sickens me to this day, learning about how I was brainwashed by Vincent and held by him unknowingly for several months. But he's gone now and can no longer have any influence on me.

A year later, I moved to Zinnias to be with my husband and daughter. Noella is a delightful, energetic girl who loves to do flips and cartwheels around the backyard and the house, sadly. She and I have become close over the past year. We visit her grandparents every weekend. My parents got me the help I needed for my mental health and I'm getting closer to recovery with every session. Liam and Noella are my biggest support system. I can finally be the mother my baby girl needs in her life, thanks to Liam and Jason. Liam and I walk down the shore, as we do every Friday night. I hold Noella in my arms as she falls asleep on my shoulder. As I softly hum to her, I gaze up at the stars in the sky, silently thanking God for bringing me back home again.

The end