In another life, Ella would have been happy. Jack would be by her side, holding her close to him, whispering in her ear how much he needed her, how much he loved her. She loved the feel of his breath on her skin. The heat of their closeness sent chills down her body and awakened an urge deep inside.
In another life, Jack would be standing in front of her, tugging at the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Ella following his lead with her arms above her with her heart thumping like a beat of a drum. As Ella’s shirt hit the floor, Jack’s lips are on hers like bees to sweet honey.
In another life, Ella would have been driving to the beach. She wouldn’t have let him drink so much. They wouldn’t have had that argument. She would have fought harder to keep him at the house where they could have stayed in bed, losing each other in their fiery touch. They would have fallen asleep in each others arms.
In another life, Jack would have seen the car cutting him off in time. The car wouldn’t have flipped in the blink of an eye. Ella’s screams wouldn’t have been the last sound he would ever hear again. Jack’s lifeless body wouldn’t have been pulled out of a mangled car. Ella wouldn’t have been screaming for her love as she fought paramedics into unconsciousness.
In another life, Ella would remember who she was. She wouldn’t spend her days in a cold room with strangers dressed in white, telling her that she was lucky to be alive. Staring into a mirror for hours on end, Ella willed her memory to return. Where did her golden locks come from? What did these hazel eyes see in twenty-three years of life? She would know why she dreamt of a dark-haired man who knew how to touch her in ways that brightened the darkness of her memories.
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