The Memory Keeper: The Sin In Our Name

S2 Chapter 17: Hold On

As I leaned over to place another shirt into the already stuffed suitcase, something caught my eye.

Two journals.

My journals.

The ones I had given her a year ago when she was recovering from her accident. They were resting on top of a closed suitcase, worn but intact.

I reached out, brushing my fingers over the covers.

I remember pouring my heart into those pages-our memories, stories of us, my fears, my love for her. I wrote them hoping that if her memory ever slipped away again, she'd have something to hold on to.

And now, here they were. Still with her.

Khai noticed my lingering touch and followed my gaze.

"You kept these?" I asked softly, barely trusting my voice.

She sat down beside me, her eyes gentle but tired.

"Of course I did," she said quietly. "I read them when I felt lost. When I couldn't understand why I felt... so connected to you."

Her words made my throat tighten.

"And now?" I asked.

She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and placed her hand over mine.

"Now, I think I need them more than ever."

I wanted to tell her that I could be her anchor, that she wouldn't need those journals because I'd be right here, holding her hand, reminding her every day of who she is-of who we are.

But I couldn't say it.

Because in two days, I couldn't promise I'd still be holding her hand.

So instead, I nodded and smiled, though it felt like my face might crack from holding it together.

"Then take them with you," I whispered.

And silently, I begged the universe to let her come back to me.

Whole.

Alive.

And remembering every word in those pages.

After we packed all of Khai's things, the walls of the penthouse felt too heavy, too suffocating. So, without saying much, we decided to drive around the city.

The cool breeze swept through the car as we passed familiar streets. It felt like we were chasing time, holding on to the normalcy of our routine.

Our first stop was our favorite diner-the little corner spot with the flickering neon sign. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and buttery waffles hit us as soon as we walked in. We slid into our usual booth by the window, and for a while, it was like nothing had changed.

Waffles, bacon, and eggs sat between us.

Khai drizzled syrup over her waffle, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Remember when you swore this place had the best coffee in the city?" she teased.

I smirked. "It does have the best coffee."

She raised an eyebrow and took a slow sip. "Debatable."

We laughed, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of what was coming disappeared.

After breakfast, we drove aimlessly, revisiting spots that once held pieces of us. The park where we first held hands. The bookstore where we got lost for hours. Every turn was a memory, and every memory felt like it could slip through my fingers.