7 Truth

Sunday evening, Diane put on a red flannel button-down shirt, jeans, and a pair of Nike sneakers. She sat on the couch and waited for Lorenzo to ring the doorbell. Lorenzo arrived wearing casual jeans and a T-shirt.

He smiled and said, "For once, none of us are overdressed."

Diane smiled and walked hand-in-hand with Lorenzo to his car. They chatted during the ride, and they were happily laughing at events that happened. Yet there was still an unanswered question nagging Diane at the back of her mind. Where was he the whole week that he had to ignore me and not text me? Of course, Lorenzo could have been busy with work, or family businesses but last month, he'd texted her every day for the past month to keep up with her. Why would this week be any different? What was taking up all is time? They showed up at The Olive Garden, an Italian restaurant, at about 8:05. The drive was short but it was long enough for both Diane and Lorenzo to share what they were doing the whole week. The parts they were willing to share, anyways.

In the restaurant, they found a table and ordered their food: spaghetti, lasagna, and toasted rye bread panzanella. Halfway through their meal, Lorenzo froze, mid-bite. He had a forkful of spaghetti raised to his mouth but he never ate it. He was staring behind Diane, towards the entrance to the building. A woman, slightly younger than Diane, was at the door, chatting with a man. The woman had blue eyes and black hair that curled around her shoulders. Diane frowned. Why's Lorenzo staring at that woman like that? She's just another customer. The woman had stopped too. And she was staring right at Diane. She stormed towards their table, the man following her. Lorenzo had sunk in his chair as if trying to hide.

"Lorenzo, what is going on?" the woman asked. "Why is this woman with you, eating dinner together?"

"My colleague?" Lorenzo suggested, cringing away from the woman like a child would when addressed by a stranger.

The woman snorted. "Yeah right. Like I'd believe that. Tell me, who is she?"

"Lorenzo, who is she? And you know very well that I'm not a colleague, you said that I was your girlfriend," Diane said, her confusion showing in her eyes.

"Girlfriend?" the woman shrieked. "What are you talking about? I am your girlfriend. Me!"

Everyone was staring at the table now. Diane could see a waiter stalking towards them, his face filled with rage. Diane stared at Lorenzo, asking for answers.

"Look, I-we-can we talk about this another time?" Lorenzo asked meekly.

"No," Diane answered firmly. "You will sort this out right now. Which one of us is the real one you love?"

"Jenna," he muttered.

Diane was shocked. Slowly, her face reddened. "How could you? You lied to me for over a month! How long did you plan on keeping this a secret?" Diane screamed.

"You see, I told you that I was his real girlfriend!" Jenna gloated. "Now get out of my face. You were probably just a distraction, just something he was ordered to do."

Diane stood up. "Lorenzo, I trusted you. But you lied. Over and over again. My mother really did put you up to this, didn't she? My mother probably paid you to make me fall for you and not any other man, didn't she?" Diane asked coldly. "You will never hear of me again, nor will you ever see me again. I may as well be nonexistent to you."

On her way out the door, she shoved Jenna hard, making her fall hard onto the floor. Without another word, Diane turned around and stalked out the door.

She caught a bus home and in fifteen minutes, she was home. Diane threw herself onto her bed, crying into the pillows. I suspected this. I always thought that he'd be under the orders of my mother. Why did I let myself fall for him? Why did I believe him? I hate him, I hate him. I HATE HIM!!! I guess that this is why he didn't text me this week. I guess Jenna was what was keeping him busy. I should have blocked his number. I should have blocked it the first chance I had! She stopped pounding on her bed. She asked herself, "Why does it hurt so much? Why if I never loved him?"

My heart led me astray, but not ever again. I won't let it happen again.

The next morning, she received a message from Lorenzo.

Lorenzo: I can explain. Please. Give me a chance.

Enraged by the fact that Lorenzo even still had the nerve to text her, pleading for mercy after what he did, Diane jabbed the screen, furiously texting back to him. She didn't care about his feelings anymore; whatever she said back to him now could never be equal to the pain he'd inflicted on her.

Diane: A chance to ruin my life again?

Diane: A chance to lie and make me trust you again?

Diane: A chance to make me fall for you again?

Diane: I'd rather not, Lockwood.

Stupid, stupid me. Why'd I forget to block his number yesterday? Diane navigated to the [BLOCK] button. Even as she steadily pressed [YES], it brought tears to her eyes. She couldn't help but remember the good times she'd spent with Lorenzo. The times before she found out the truth: that Lorenzo had cheated on her, that he was all a distraction for her, all a set up to get her to do what her mother wanted. She'd called a friend to switch shifts. Now, Diane had a day off on Wednesday, a day to just mope around in her house.

~Ding dong~

Not having organized any meetings today, Diane curiously peeked out the window. Standing at her doorstep, she saw a woman dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a sweater over it. If any normal person was passing by, they could have mistaken the woman as a friend of Diane's visiting her. But Diane knew better. It was her mother, casually strolling by and paying her a visit after everything she'd done to Daine in the past two months. A wave of fury rolled over Diane.

She jerked open the door, screaming, "What do you want now?"

"Be respectful and invite a guest into your house," Christy said.

Letting out a frustrated hiss, Diane invited (more like shoved) Christy into her house. She slammed the door shut. Standing crossed armed before her mother, Diane felt her anger swell. Here she was, heartbroken, because of what Christy had done and her mother was just sweeping into her house claiming to be a guest here.

Finally, Diane burst. "Don't you know when to give up? Don't you think you have controlled me enough? Manipulating me to do your whim, forcing me to marry one of the 'chosen ones', when have I ever decided something for myself?" Diane's face was distorted with rage. She'd finally been able to release the anger that had built up inside of her for the past week.

"I don't know where this attitude is coming from, young lady, but I don't like it. I did not control you, you chose to be an obedient daughter and follow my instructions," Christy said in a steely voice. "It is your fault you let your guard down and fall in love with Lorenzo. That was your decision, moving here was your decision, what more do you want?"

"I want a lot more, more than you could ever give me. They're things only someone who truly loves me can give to me. Someone that I love, someone that loves me. And that someone is. Not. You," Diane responded in a low tone. "You gave me it before, when I was young, when I accepted your demands as a part of life, but you've changed. I don't think I can even call you 'mother' anymore. You're better off with me calling you 'Christy'."

That was over the line for Christy. "What do you want? I gave you a good childhood, I gave you happiness. Why is that not enough for you? Why did I have to be the one to raise the ungrateful, spoiled child? Why me? Is it my fault that you have grown to become like your sister?"

"Yes," Diane answered, her voice emotionless. "Yes, it is your fault. You've pushed me to be your 'dream daughter', your 'little angel' for too long. I'm not going to stand here and be your servant. And what I want? That," Diane said, "you'll have to figure out for yourself."

"If you want freedom, leave. I don't care anymore. I don't know what you want anymore. Before, what you wanted was so simple to figure out. You're wrong. I'm not the one who has changed. It's you, Diane. It's you. I don't know where you went wrong in your childhood but you are not the same daughter I had ten years ago."

"You want to know what I want?" Diane asked coldly. "I want happiness. You can't give it to me, so I'll leave. I'll leave and find happiness somewhere else. In someone else."

"Then leave! I don't recognize you anymore. I don't. Leave and I'll never consider you as my daughter ever again. Leave this town, leave. I don't want you as a daughter anyways!" Christy shrieked, her voice shrill.

That was a stab to Diane's heart. Feeling tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she forced herself to say, "Fine. Then you're no longer welcome here, Christy."

Her mother got up and left. Diane got up and watched her mother climb into the same red Corolla she'd gotten into every day twice during her childhood. She watched the familiar process her mother took to start the engine, but this time, without the step where she turned around and called for her and Sarah to buckle their seatbelts. She saw the tears drop from her mother's face, onto her lap. She saw her mother's knuckles turn white, from the strength of her grip on the steering wheel. Diane turned away, letting the curtains fall into place again. It was unbearable to look at her mother after the fight they'd just had, after the words they'd said to each other. And Diane let her tears fall. She leaned on the couch and sobbed, poured out her sadness and loneliness in her tears.

The next few weeks, Diane worked as usual, but after the fights with Lorenzo and Christy, the black-outs started to come again. They started again, and she remembered every single detail from every single dream. And this time, the dreams were different. Each showing a different aspect of her forgotten life. They happened everywhere now, she could be at work, at home or in a store. Thank God that it never happened when Diane was driving. All of them were about the boy, whose name she learned was Troy. To Diane, it sounded like a jerk's name, like the obnoxious boy that first showed up at the fence.