She kissed him goodbye, knowing he wouldn’t remember her tomorrow. 

Clara looked into his eyes one last time, knowing it was the last time she would see the light in those eyes, looking at her the way she once dreamed that someone would. 

She didn’t dare pull away, being the one to break the connection. But Connor sensed something had shifted, so he pulled away and looked at her. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice that gentle whisper that always left Clara breathless. 

“Nothing,” she whispered back, her voice hollow and on the break of tears. She couldn’t let him know what was coming. What she knew. What she saw. 

“Come on, Clara,” he said. “Something’s different. I can feel it.”

Clara closed her eyes, trying not to let the tears slip down her face, showing her weakness in the last moments she felt it. 

Connor took her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him. Into his beautiful, ocean blue eyes, full of light and love that Clara had thought she’d never find. 

Clara trembled, for she had never felt this way before. She slightly parted her lips, trying to find a sliver of courage to say the words she knew she must. 

“I love you,” a gentle whisper came out. 

“I love you,” he responded, kissing her, the warmth a reminder of the love she was about to lose, the pain she was about to endure. 

When he finally let her go, he said, “I’ll see you later, beautiful.” 

Clara simply smiled, whispering “goodbye,” before watching him walk into the darkness. 

Clara opened the door to her apartment, locking it behind her before she broke down, sobbing. “Why? Why him? Why now?”

When she’d cried herself all out, Clara dragged herself to her bedroom, to the darkness that usually swept away her worries. 

Now, her worries swept away the darkness. 

She couldn’t stop picturing Connor’s eyes, the way they lit up when she walked into the room. The beautiful smile he plastered on his face when she spoke. His tell, the way his hand swept through his deep brown hair when he was nervous. 

From the moment Clara had laid eyes on Connor, she knew something was different about him. A sweet guy across the cafe, with features that’d made him stand out in the crowd. Clara had met up with her sister, Nicole, for coffee on a Sunday morning when she noticed him.  

When Connor had walked up to their table, Clara was positive he was going to start hitting on her sister, just like every other guy had done their entire life. Nicole was the pretty sister, with her luscious long blond hair and bright blue eyes, and Clara was just the overshadowed younger sister, with auburn waves and green eyes that she felt were too small for her face, despite Nicole’s reassurance that she was gorgeous too.

“Hey,” Connor had said, while looking straight at Clara.

“Can I help you?” Clara had asked, confused, sneaking a glance at Nicole, who was giving her knowing look. 

“Uh….no,” he stammered, turning beet red. “I was just…um…”

Clara looked at Nicole, unsure of what to do. Normally, guys didn’t get all flustered when talking to her, and it was a new area. She didn’t know what to do.

“I’m gonna go grab another latte,” Nicole said, standing up. 

Clara looked at her sister as she walked away, but quickly regained focus and looked at Connor. “I’m Clara,” she said, holding her hand out.

“Connor,” he shook her hand. “And Clara is a lovely name.”

“Thanks.”

They’d started talking, and once Connor seemed to get over his nerves, he was set in a comfortable rhythm. He’d asked Clara out for the following Tuesday, and they’d been together ever since. 

That was 6 months ago. Before a sliver of darkness had shifted Clara’s perspective. Before everything she knew would turn dark. 

Before her vision came. 

Clara had been having visions since she was 6. And her latest vision was about to set her world on fire. 

2 weeks ago, Clara had woken up at midnight in a cold sweat, bright flashing lights surrounding her, a ringing in her ear. All classic signs of a vision. Her head pounded as she took her fingers and started to rub her temples, the only way to guide the pain into the vision. 

When it became clear, her fingers froze. She froze as she watched her vision play out, each second passing by striking a new pain. 

When it ended, Clara was shaking, her hands on the floor, tears threatening to slip from her eyes. One slowly escaped and that’s what snapped her out of it.

Clara closed her eyes, trying to gain more information about the terrible tragedy to come. But it was gone. 

She didn’t sleep a wink that night. 

The next night, the familiar onslaught of light and sound returned, and Clara quickly rubbed her temples, guiding the pain into focus.. 

More prepared for the vision, Clara rubbed her temples to make the vision clear.  

Despite the pain it was going to cause her, she had to do everything in her power to prepare herself.

Which is why she walked by Centre Square park and sat on a bench, waiting for Connor’s terrible tragedy to occur. 

It hadn’t been 20 minutes before Connor walked by, in a pressed suit, hair combed and gelled, with a latte in his hand. 

Clara watched silently, as he crossed the street. Watched as the black pickup truck ran the red light 20 miles over the speed limit. Watched as the grill made contact with Connor. Watched as Connor flew into the air. Watched as Connor’s head whacked against the asphalt. 

Watched as Connor went unconscious. 

Clara already had 911 dialed, ambulance on the way. 

As she watched people gather around, a small voice in the back of her head was trying to guilt her. Telling her she could’ve stopped it. 

But Clara had tried to intervene with previous visions before, make it so they didn’t come true. 

But they always did. And if she tried to interfere, they came true a hundred times worse than she could’ve imagined. Clara had once tried to stop her high school best friend, Abby, from going on a date with some guy she’d met online, knowing Abby would be abused. Clara had tried interfering, but Abby had not only gotten beaten, she’d been beaten to death. That guilt left Clara more hollow than just letting the tragedy occur in the first place. 

Every fiber of her being screamed to run, to push him, to save him, but Abby's dead face flashed behind her eyes, a cold, hard reminder of the cost of intervention.

No. She was forced to sit on the sidelines and watch as terrible tragedies occurred. 

When the ambulance arrived, Clara watched as they loaded Connor onto a stretcher and drove away. 

Clara followed, waiting for the call that her boyfriend was in the hospital.

She sat in the hospital waiting room while a nurse came up and talked to her. 

“He’s got a terrible concussion, 3 broken ribs, loss of lots of blood, and possibly other side effects,” the nurse explained while leading Clara to Connor’s room. “We’ll know more once the doctors finish running their tests and once he’s conscious. He’s right through this door.”

“Thank you,” Clara took a breath, preparing herself for what was about to come before taking a step through the door. 

Connor laid in bed, unconscious, as Clara took a seat in the chair across the room. Ordinarily, she’d sit closer to him, wanting her presence to be felt. 

It didn’t matter today. 

She watched the news while nurses came in periodically, unaware of much going on around her. 

Until Connor groaned. 

Clara’s head spun around, looking at him. His eyes began to flutter open. Slowly. Taking in the surroundings around him. Until his blue eyes met Clara’s. 

“Who are you?”

The words shouldn’t have stung as much as they did. But it still didn’t stop Clara’s heart from sinking, from shattering into a million pieces. 

“I called 911 when you got hit,” Clara said, instead of trying to explain the complicated situation of their once-was relationship.

Connor didn’t respond, instead his eyes just looked Clara up and down, as if he was trying to process the person in front of him. 

“You have pretty eyes,” he said after a minute of looking at her. 

A small smile escaped Clara’s lips, her tears staying below the dam she was trying to control. 

Connor tilted his head as he continued to study her. “You…look a little familiar. Are you sure we’ve never met before?”

“We have,” Clara said.

“Where?”

“You won’t remember,” Clara said.

Before Connor could come up with an answer, the nurses came in and wheeled him away, off for more testing. 

The nurse from earlier stayed behind to see how Clara was handling her once boyfriend’s condition. 

“He doesn’t remember me,” Clara flatly told the nurse. 

“And how are you handling that?”

Clara shrugged. “How does anyone handle it?”

Clara distracted herself by throwing herself into work. She crunched the numbers, graphing the charts, finding the flaw in the data. As a statistician for Nicole’s company, she took her work very seriously. 

But today, even the numbers on the board couldn’t distract her from her worries. 

A knock came on Clara’s door, and Nicole walked in. 

“What are you doing here?” Nicole asked, closing the door behind her and setting a cup of hot chocolate on Clara’s desk.

“Working,” Clara responded. “What else?”

“I heard about Connor’s condition,” Nicole said. “Go home.”

“I can’t,” Clara responded. “I’d worry too much, although there’s not much I can do, anymore.”

“Did you have one of your visions?” Nicole asked. 

“Yeah,” Clara said. Nicole was the only person alive who knew about her power, as Nicole had a power of her own. Nicole had psychometry, the ability to read the memories of objects.

Each sister had inherited an ability from their parents, before passing away when Clara was 15. 

“I know I had some time to process this coming,” Clara continued, noticing the way Nicole was looking at her, but staying silent. “Which is why I don’t understand why this is so hard for me. I should move on, let him find someone else. Let me find someone else.” 

Clara’s voice began to break as it softened, almost a whisper by the end. 

Nicole sat down next to her sister, a hand on her back. “Because there is no one else. You and Connor were made for each other. It’s meant to be. That’s why you can’t let go.”

“But he doesn’t remember me,” Clara cried. “All the laughs we had, our bond, the tough times we had together. He doesn’t remember any of it. Won’t remember any of it.”

“So you can create new ones,” Nicole responded, her voice steady and strong. “It doesn’t matter what memories were taken away from the past, you can create new ones. Create a new bond. Make it stronger. Because if it’s meant to be, love will find a way.”

“I don’t know, Nicole. What if it hurts too much?”

“True love always hurts. That’s what makes it so great. Every great thing has its opposite, but you’ll find a way. Trust me.”

“I guess so,” Clara responded, eyeing the blood red diamond engagement ring on her sister’s finger. Nicole and Bryan were partners in their company. No one went together more than they did. “How did you know Bryan was the one?”

Nicole smiled. “I guess I always knew. But what solidified it was when I got the flu and was out sick for a week. He came over every day to check up on me, and make sure I was okay. Despite one of my worst moments, he was there. And he didn’t run away.”

“I think Connor’s the one,” Clara admitted.

“So go remind him.”


Back at the hospital a few days later, Clara sat in the waiting room. One of the nurses recognized Clara and waved her over. 

“He hasn’t stopped asking about you,” the nurse admitted. “He wanted us to contact you, to get you to come visit him, but we didn’t know how to contact you.”

“Well, I’m here to see him now. If he’s okay with that,” Clara said, her cheeks flushing a slight shade of pink. 

“Right this way.”

Connor was asleep when Clara walked in, so she sat quietly on a chair, watching him. Trying not to be in a creepy way, but she studied his features. Deep brown hair that was soft to the touch. Long lashes that framed his eyes. Soft lips. 

He looked so peaceful, except for the bruises and scrapes on his forehead. 

“I wish I could’ve done something,” Clara whispered to herself. 

“You did,” Connor’s voice said. “You called 911 for me.”

Clara saw his beautiful blue eyes looking into hers. 

“I wish I could’ve done more,” she admitted. 

Connor smiled. “Come closer, please.”

Clara obliged. 

Connor held his hand and Clara took it. He started by tracing the lines across her palm, softly and gently. 

“I feel a connection to you,” he admitted. “I can’t explain it. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Clara smiled. 

“I don’t know what’s about to happen. But I know that I want to get to know you. No matter how much or little that may be.”

Clara had to bite her lip to stop tears from flowing down her face.

“I don’t even know your name,” Connor continued. “But I’m hoping to find that out, along with everything else about you.”

Clara felt a single tear slip down her cheek. She reached up to brush it away with her free hand, but Connor got there first. 

“Tell me.”

“Clara.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Connor said. “A beautiful name, for a beautiful girl.”

Clara started trembling as a few more tears started to slip. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Connor asked, confusion on his face.

Clara shook her head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“What is it then?”

Clara took Connor’s face in her hands, drawing him closer. “If you’re ready to learn everything about me, I’m ready to let you.”