Paper Dolls (29 page)

It certainly felt like that now. My next action, my next word, would change all of our lives.

“Aria,” Clay’s deep voice reached my ears. “Whatever happens…I love you.” The usual assuredness and authority was gone. Instead, strain and hurt had crumpled up and shoved into his throat.
Choose me. Save me. Love me.

Before him my life had felt like a stack of old movies: frames missing or out of order, muted crackling sound, flickering and shuttering away, unloved and unseen in an old unused cinema, dank carpets and the smell of stale cigarettes in the musty air.

Then I found him. Or he found me.

He created a warm shield around me where I could be safe. He coaxed away all my layers and shed all my masks and his love soaked right into my skin, right into the very soul of me. He pulled out the fossil buried inside that had been my heart and breathed life into me.

How could I give up the man I loved? The one who loved me with a fierce and unwavering passion, the man who made me feel like I could defeat demons as long as he was by my side.

Winking in the threads of sunlight piercing through the solemn grey clouds, seed fluff twirled about me like swirling, dancing couples. Spinning around like Salem and I used to do in our backyard, hands clasped together tightly, turning round and round, eyes to the sky, our twin voices giggling and floating into the air like dandelions.

She had been my shield before Clay.

“I’m nothing without you, Aria,” Salem’s voice trembled, desperation leaking into the breaths between her words.
Choose me. Need me. Love me.

How could I end her? I just got her back. For so long we shared almost everything, and she protected me. Her whole life had been about protecting me. Because she loved me that much.

How could I turn against her, toss her away like an old broken toy?

But I had to choose.

Several weeks ago there was one small, stupid moment, after I had her back and I had Clay, where I believed I could be happy.

Damn, girl, are you actually smiling?

Oh Flick, everything is just perfect.

One stupid moment.

But that’s the thing about us humans: we’re resilient. Hope is so hard to snuff out. Even if we’ve been kicked and beaten down and trod on, hope flares. It rises to the top like oil on water.

Even now as I stare between Clay and Salem, trying to digest our impossible situation, Hope is still there, that terrible pixie, fluttering on my shoulder, whispering.

Maybe it doesn’t have to end this way?

Maybe Flick will show up and sort this out in the way only she could do, clear and stern but with a whole lot of sass.

Maybe the police will come storming through the trees, their flashlights and guns upon us, forcing us all apart.

Or a knight riding on a white horse…

Fuck you, Hope. Here’s the truth.

Nobody is coming.

No one will save us.

And someone isn’t going to make it out of this forest today.

I could see us now, the three of us making a chain like when I was a kid, folding pieces of coloured paper into rectangles, cutting out an arm, a leg, and half a head, and unfurling my new patterns in the light to reveal a line of paper dolls. Clay, Salem and I − we were all just paper dolls in a paper chain, me in the middle, each end pulling tighter and tighter until something had to tear.

Who would I rip apart?

“Choose,” my sister screamed. “It’s either him or me.”

My fingers tightened around my gun in a reflex. This was it. I either ended her. Or destroyed Clay.

I squeezed my eyelids shut for a moment, just for a moment of peace. Just for an instant I could shut out the inevitable, and in this blessed darkness I believed I could conceive a way that both could exist in my life. A way that I could choose Salem
and
Clay. 

You can’t have both.

You tried.

You.

Can’t.

Have.

Both.

Choose now.

But how?

What do you do when someone puts a gun to your head?
Clay’s words came back to me, echoing as loud in my mind as if he had just spoken them.
You refuse to bend. You push back. You find another way. You take that gun off him and put it back in his face. But you do
not
give in.

Find another way…

I knew what I had to do. A kind of peace settled on my skin, as delicate as gossamer, as light as silk.

I opened my eyes to a world of bright light until my vision adjusted. The torn and pained faces of the two people I loved came into focus. The only two people I’ve shared air with while we slept, the same two people I’d crawl into Hell to be with, and the only two people I would die for. I forced the ghost of a smile forward.

And turned the gun on myself.

19

Salem stared at the barrel I pointed at her. At her. At me. At the part of me that had been protecting me.

“You’re choosing him?” Salem choked out, her face twisting up, revealing her inner pain. A pain that I felt in my own stomach.

I lowered the gun. “I can run with you, Salem,” I said, my voice shaking. “But then…we’ll just keep running. But we can’t outrun ourselves. I’m sorry. I can’t go with you. I don’t want to keep forgetting things.”

“You fucking idiot,” she cried. “These memories will destroy you.”

Sometimes we need to crumble to nothing before we can rebuild ourselves into someone better.

“Maybe… Maybe not… But I have to try.”

“No,” she wailed. “You were supposed to choose me.
Me
.”

I didn’t know what to do, stunned into silence as she began to cry. Her voice trembled as she sniffed back sobs, my heart breaking as I watched her fall apart because a gun, a choice and the truth separated us.

“You want to get rid of me, even though I protected you from everything you didn’t want to face. I took all of it just so you wouldn’t have to remember it. I killed that bastard because
you
couldn’t do it. When you had a breakdown because of him,” she pointed at Clay, “I took you away from him, I hid him from you. And when he came back for you, I tried to stop him. I did all those things for you because I love you. I fucking love you, Rosey. And you’re still choosing
him
.”

“What if that’s not the choice you have to make?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if you don’t have to choose between Clay and Salem?”

“Then what would I choose?”

“Choose
you
.”

“That’s not what I’m choosing. It was never a choice between you and Clay. Don’t you see? I’m choosing me,” I said. “I’m choosing
me
.”

“No,” slipped from Salem’s mouth, disbelief clear in her wide eyes and hanging jaw.

“Please, Salem. I want to get better. But you’re a part of me.
You
need to want to get better too.”

“You’re asking me to give up my existence…for you.”

My shoulders dropped. “It’s not like that…” I trailed off.

It was exactly like that. For me to get better, she would have to hand over all of the missing pieces of me that she had kept safe until now. She would have to eventually fade away.

Choose
you.

I held onto these two words with every cell of my being, willing her to understand. I forced myself to stand strong. Salem stared at me, her sobs slowly abating, until two silent tears ran down her cheek.

I felt her tussle with this choice, her choice, my choice. I knew I could never move on unless we were both in agreement. Even though she wasn’t
real
,
she was to me. And she mattered so much.

Her fear shot through me because it was mine. Was I strong enough to face my past? Would I just break?

I felt her anguish because we shared it. How had she become redundant?

I tasted her hurt like sourness on my tongue. I didn’t need her anymore.

“You’re wrong,” I said. “I need you now more than ever.”

We inhaled.

We exhaled.

I felt the moment when she accepted it like a release inside of me. And underneath it all was a glimmer of hope as two torn paper dolls folded together to appear as one.

“Salem?” I asked.

“Do I have to sit around hugging other sweaty patients?”

“You’ll only have to hug me, I promise.”

“And no stupid blot pictures.”

I managed a laugh through my tears. “No blot pictures.”

She walked right up to me. I felt like I could really see her for the first time, shimmering and ethereal like my reflection in the lake that summer. How could I ever thank her for protecting me the way she did? How could I ever thank her now for what she was giving up?

“Thank you,” I started to say. “Thank you for−”

She raised her hand to silence me.
I know
, she said, but only in my head
. We
are
the same person, you know?
She smiled.

I smiled back even though my heart was hurting.

20

Day 1

“I’m not sure I want to stay here anymore.”

“Angel, it’s only for three months. I’ll be waiting right here for you when you get out.”

I looked back to the doctor and nurse waiting patiently for me and bit my lip. My stomach a jumbled ball of twine.

After our confrontation on the bridge Clay drove me back to his place, calling Dr Bing to let her know to meet us there instead. I had been so tired. Not physically but mentally, and my soul felt leadened by chains now that I had decided to carry my past all on my own. I knew I had a long road ahead of me. But first I needed sleep.

When Dr Bing arrived she offered something to sedate me. I accepted it. I slept for almost sixteen hours in Clay’s bed. Every time I woke I found Clay watching me, fear shining in his eyes as he tentatively asked me if I knew who he was. When I said his name his face melted to relief and I felt safe enough to sink back down under.

Dr Bing organised for me to attend an intensive recovery program in Sydney to work through all of my repressed memories. They still hadn’t pushed their way through yet. Not yet. Salem was still doing her duty, her last stand at guard, before I gradually took over.

I told Flick that I had to take some time off for personal reasons. I didn’t explain why exactly but she didn’t ask. She seemed to know not to ask.

Clay had flown down to Sydney with me. Last night he had rented a suite at a gorgeous hotel overlooking the Harbour Bridge. We hadn’t made love. We just stayed up most of the night holding each other. It didn’t matter how many times I had run my hands over his body last night, I still felt unsatisfied. I had been so scared to fall asleep because then our remaining minutes together would be gone.

Now we were down to our last few seconds and I didn’t know if I could cope. “I won’t get to see you at all. Or touch you…kiss you.”

“I know. And I’ll be missing you for every single one of those ninety days. But you don’t need any distractions during your recovery. Remember, you chose
you
.”

Sometimes it sucked doing the right thing. “I’ll be all alone.”

“No, you won’t be.”

I looked over his shoulder. Salem stood there, her arms crossed over her chest, a bored look on her face. “Will you two hurry it up already?”

I’m almost ready.

Dear God. Would I ever be ready for this? I tucked myself further into Clay, inhaling his scent as if holding it in my lungs meant that I could carry a part of him with me. I pulled back when something struck me. “There’s one more thing that’s been bothering me. I found a comic in your apartment…”

He was already nodding, a smile touching the corner of his mouth. “
Adventures of Aria
. I drew her based on you. You encouraged me to submit it to be published. I did. It was the break I needed.” These were all things I hadn’t started remembering yet. But I would.

“But you’d named her Aria. Aria hadn’t existed then.”

“I like to think that’s why you chose the name Aria to take on after you left and forgot about me. A part of you still remembered. A part of you didn’t want to forget me.”

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. My eyes filled with tears as I clutched onto him. “I’m so sorry I left. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.”

He shushed into my hair and rocked me gently in his arms. “It’s okay. Or…it will be.”

“I can’t believe how much you put up with for me. How much you went through for me.”

He sighed and kissed my head. “The course of true love never did run smooth,” he quoted.

Despite everything, I smiled. It surprised me. How could I smile again?

But I knew, deep down, even after I remembered everything I would smile again. I would laugh again. And I would make love again.

He leaned down and kissed me goodbye; it wasn’t rushed. I tried to memorise everything about this moment. His lips were hard yet soft, sweet yet heated, but mostly this kiss was full of hope.

Finally he pulled away. He tugged a strand of my hair as if he was only leaving me until tomorrow. “See you around, angel.” He turned and walked out of the lobby before I could change my mind.

I turned to face my waiting party, an older doctor with a full head of silver hair and a kind smile. Beside him was a younger nurse with a clipboard.

“Welcome, Aria,” the doctor said to me. “Or would you prefer Rosa?”

I swallowed as the name I was born with echoed in my head. It still felt like a foreign object to me, like it belonged to a character in a novel instead of me. But apparently that’s part of my way of coping. “I’ve decided to stick with Aria. It’s less confusing that way.”

He smiled. “Okay. I’m Dr Swanson and this is Nurse Dent.” His brow raised in a question. “Is…Salem here with you?”