Page 17 of Parallel

“Look,” I whisper.

Her brow furrows. “Uh…it’s a nice drawing? But you’ve always been amazing at drawing buildings.”

“It’s London. Harley Street, in Marylebone. I keep dreaming about it, but I’ve never even been there. And you know what? Covent Garden. I thought it was an actual garden, but it’s not. It’s, like, an outdoor mall.”

“Everyone knows it’s a mall.”

“I didn’t. But now I know every store…” I trail off, frustrated by the impossibility of all this. Tears fill my eyes. “I know how to convert the currency. I know how to take their subway from Marylebone to Kensington. I’m seeing my life as if my father never died and it went on as I’d planned it. I’m in London, getting my master’s in architecture. I don’t remember my classes but I even wake remembering things I learned in them.”

She sets the drawings aside and leans back in her chair. “You probably saw this stuff on the Travel Channel. God only knows how much knowledge we’ve all got stored in our brains.”

“That’s not all, though.” My throat tightens. What remains is, by far, the worst part. The part I’m not sure I should say aloud, even to my best friend. “There’s a guy.”

Her eyes light up. “Now it’s getting interesting. What guy?”

“Nick. He’s a resident there, going into cardiology. We’re married. And insanely in love. I can’t even describe it. I had dreams about him when I was little, and they started up again after I passed out last week. But they’re not like dreams. It’s more like I’m living it all for the first time. I wake up and my brain is full of what I didn’t know the day before.” I don’t tell her my doctor here may be the same guy. I think I’m scared to say it aloud, worried I’ll jinx it.

She frowns. “Look, I don’t want you to accuse me of being down on Jeff, because that’s really not what this is, but… it kind of sounds like you invented the guy who represents how you want to feel. He’s not real but maybe it’s your subconscious’ way of suggesting you think twice.”

I shake my head vehemently. “But it’s not how I want to feel. At all. I just need it to stop.”

Her eyes go wide. “Why the hell wouldn’t you want to feel like that? Everyone wants to feel what you’re describing.”

I don’t, but I can’t entirely say why that’s the case. I just sense trouble. There’s something dark inside me, something I buried so deep I can mostly forget it’s there. But it’s been whispering to me again of late, ever since I started remembering Nick. And the terror of hearing it far exceeds the pull of wanting something more.

Not that I can say any of this to her. There’s a limit to the amount of crazy you can share in one day, even with your best friend.

“Because I already have exactly what I want. If this is my subconscious, I need a doctor who can make her shut up.”

Caroline glances at me. “Or maybe one who can tell you why you’d choose to be less happy than you could be.”

“You’re saying I need a shrink?”

She comes to my end of the bed and wraps an arm around me. “Maybe. Or we just wait and see if Trevor has a better plan,” she says with a grin. “Warning: it may involve prostitutes.”

There are still tears in my eyes, but I manage to laugh. “In that case, let’s keep this between ourselves.”

Caroline heads out to work, actually looking forward to her day. There are many times I envy her, and this is one of them. She’s at a point in her career where she is mostly calling the shots. If she wants to leave in the middle of the day, she leaves. If she wants to jet off on a safari with an Australian rugby player she met at a bar, she just takes off. It makes me think, once again, of returning to school. But as Jeff always reminds me, the money would be astronomical. It would take me five years, if not longer, before I had the education I need to start making money again, and all the while we’d be relying on Jeff’s income, which can’t exactly be relied upon. He argues that it’s impractical, and what can I really say in my defense? He’s absolutely right.

A nurse walks in moments after Caroline has left. “How are you feeling today?” she asks. “I have the breakfast menu if you’d like to order.”

“No thanks,” I reply. I still can’t eat. Until I see who Nick is, I won’t be able to hold down a single bite. “Will I…be talking to the doctor today?”

She nods. “Yes, the attendings are meeting with the residents right now, but one of them will be in later.”

One of them. So even if Nick is here, it might not be him I see.

She mistakes my expression for impatience. “It looks like your friend brought you some stuff if you want to clean up. That way you’ll be ready to leave as soon as possible today.”

I grab the bag Caroline brought and hop into the shower. When I emerge, I’m clean and dressed in far nicer clothes than any I actually own—designer jeans, a James Perse T-shirt that hugs my curves like it was made for me. Yes, it would be nice to live like Caroline once in a while.

I shove yesterday’s dirty clothes into the bag and have just finished tidying up when there’s a knock on the door.

Then Nick, my Nick, walks into the room.

8

NICK