Sarah’s scream cut me off. “Shut up!” “Please just listen to me.” “I saw you die!” “No no no! See? I’m fi-“ “Yeah, I see you’re fucking fine!” “Isn’t that a good thing? I’m here.” “Don’t turn this around on me.” Sarah took a couple heaving ragged breaths. “Right now, I feel like I’m going crazy, but I’m not crazy. So, you’re gonna stop gaslighting me and tell me what’s going on.” I stumbled over my words. “Well... you see....” I had it. “You know how I work with Detective Thorne? Well, Detective Thorne gave me some serious information. Something really big. About the Rambler, and... he found out.” I put on my best ‘worried for my life’ look. Sarah didn’t soften. “Mhm. Yeah. Sure. Let’s go with that.” I could hear heart beat pound uncontrollably. “That still doesn’t explain how you survived getting blown up!” She saw that? I thought that she had been knocked out by the crash, but apparently she had kept enough consciousness to see me block the grenade the Rambler threw. Apparently my surprise was visible because she said, “Yeah! I saw that. So don’t even try to pretend like it didn’t happen.” She started to slowly back away from me. “ I mean, how do I even know you’re the real Anthony? You could be a clone or a hologram or an alien.” I tried to chuckle, signaling that the mere thought of me being anything but a red blooded American born in Richland Washington was impossible. “Sarah, come on. Look at me.” I gestured. “If I wasn’t Anthony Thompson, how would I know that, uh... you were born in an elevator?” “I dunno, my mom’s Facebook page!” “Your first dog was named Quilon. You lost your mother’s blue bracelet at the Senior Campout. Your left eye twitches when you get hungry. You hate chives. You-“ “Ok! Fuck! Stop.” It was a good thing she stopped me. I was started to get desperate and this was not the best time lose my head. “You’re Anthony. I believe you. But you’re not off the hook.” I decided it would be best to not try to push it anymore. I stood up straight and took a visible step back, trying best to not appear threatening. “I love you, babe and I’m so thankful to have a woman as brave and as strong as you and the fact that you’re worried about me, it makes m-“ “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She looked disgusted. “What?” “How long have we known each other?” “Four years, two months, and 17 days.” “And you think in those four years, I haven’t figured out when you’re bullshitting me?” By this point, She had gotten within arms length of the front door. Her heart rate quickened. She bolted! Grabbing, the door knob, she threw a nearby shoe at me, and turned to run. It would have taken her about two seconds to escape; for a normal person, that is just a moment. But for me, I had an eternity to decide whether not to let her go. In an instant, I was between her and the door, her breath fogging up my glasses. She froze, still white knuckling the door nob around me. I took a deep breath and said, unfortunately allowing a small amount tenseness in my voice, “Fine. I want to be honest with you. No bullshit this time.” Her hand slipped from the door and she began to quietly sob. She slumped onto the orange loveseat we found together. It was just a week after we had met when we passed by it. Out on the street, the slightly damp loveseat had a piece of paper taped to it that said “For Free. Please Take.” I didn’t pay it any mind, but Sarah insisted that she needed it for her place. So, we carried it the six blocks it took to get back to her apartment, but it didn’t feel that long. I spent the trip making her laugh at my feigned inability to carry it. “I think I’ve... I think I’ve known for a long time,” she spoke through her hands. “The long nights. At first I thought you were cheating on me. Then you started to get this injuries. Broken coffee cup at work. Mugging. Angry dog. I wanted to believe you.” I was powerless. My entire existence, from the moment I met her up until this exact second, was trying to protect her. “I’m sorry.”