She ate the food and listened to the conversation. She watched the little boy and smiled as politely as she could. She was being compared to some woman that was her but wasn't. Someone else had inhabited this shell before her. She could speak the language, she could understand concepts, she could use a fork and a spoon but in the context of the greater picture, she didn't know this man, this baby, this kitchen, this house, this person. Sanria.
The man - Colin - looked like he was on the verge of tears every time she proclaimed she didn't know or didn't understand or didn't remember. He showed her the other rooms of the house, telling her how much Sanria liked this one or that one, or how much time she spent there. No matter what, though, when she felt like backing away or just going somewhere for a moment to breathe - she was assured that if she only gave it a chance, she'd remember.
Colin showed her to the bedroom, her bedroom supposedly and she stared at the room with a sigh. She didn't know this place, no matter how pretty it was, and didn't feel as though she was supposed to be here. She took the wedding band from her necklace and frowned. When Colin came in to check on her, he slid it back onto her finger. "That's where it belongs," he said with a very slight chuckle. But why? She didn't know this man. She didn't know anyone.
When she sent him off to sleep in the guest room, the man - Colin - looked as if he could cry. He'd been so sick with worry over her (Sanria, she reminded herself) and all he wanted was to be beside her. She hadn't expected him to take her - but he did. She stared at him in shock as he looked down at her, tears in his eyes, begging her - "Please, tell me you remember this. Please."
"I'm... sorry..."
"These were the times were were the closest. I don't want to lose you."
She laid there beside him in the dark, long after he had fallen asleep. She listened to him breathing, listened to the constant yet muffled din of the waterfall outside the balcony, listened to every sound the house made as it cooled off and settled into the darkness of the night. She couldn't stay here. She couldn't be placed in the mold of this woman who, with so many "long sto- ries" couldn't have been happy. To have killed herself... it didn't make sense. What could have possibly happened to make her loathe living so much. Though Colin had said she had been happy most of the time, the shoe just didn't fit. Neither did she.
