Wait.
"You said your girlfriend?" I ask.
She nods slowly, "Yeah, Brigit is like someone's boss that lives with my... I'm not sure how they're all connected, but I bet Skyler knows."
"So you and I, we don't," I can't stop sweating long enough to ask the fucking question, "We don'tknoweach other."
"Like biblically?" Her nose and mouth scrunch up with abject disgust.
I nod.
And she barks out a laugh, "No.I'm sure for people who are attracted to men, you're great, but I am not."
I finally let out a sigh of relief.
"We'refriends," she assures me. "Basically family."
The knowledge that I've built an entire life I know nothing about haunts me. All the time I've spent with these people, the familiaritywith which they look at me, and I can't offeranyof it back. These are strangers who know more about me than I do.
"You're not yourself right now, Cormac," she gently pushes me backwards, away from the dance floor and apparently Brigit until I'm leaning against the wall, catching my breath. "You need to relax."
"So I'm not allowed to go find her?" My voice fails.
With a sigh, she wraps a dark strand of her hair nervously around her finger, "I'm not going to tell you what you'reallowedto do. But I suggest you do nothing until you're more steady."
I don't think I have any chance of becoming steady until I have some fucking answers. And this Brigit woman might have them, along with the last remaining string I have to my humanity before I fucking lost it and started killing people.
"If I can't track her down, why come tell me that she's here?" I finally ask, reining in my disturbingly angry thoughts of tearing through every person between the stranger who was my whole world, the only thing I thought important enough to have photos of in my private office.
"I didn't want you to be blindsided if you saw her," she explains. "Skyler and I love you like family, even though you don't remember that right now. So we're going toprotect youlike family. That includes keeping you from spiraling from running into her."
But now that I know she's here, I won't be able to think of anything else until I get eyes on her.
"I won't spiral," I say, knowing it's a lie.
I'm going to. It's not a matter of if, it's a fact. But I can spiral from not seeing Brigit, or I can spiral from getting eyes on her and not being able to remember how it felt to know her.
Her expression is one of disbelief, but she releases my arms anyway, "I'm not going to tell you what you can or can't do, but I highly suggest you turn around and walk out that side door. Leave your what-ifs and questions for her until after you've found the answers about yourself."
The weight of knowing she's here sits heavily on my chest.
This Stella person in front of me clearly wants me to be safe from the madness in my own head, but it won't be sated until I can get eyes and hands on my... my whatever she is.
She sees the exact moment I abandon any thoughts I had of leaving, muttering under her breath something aboutstubborn fucking white men. "Fine. But if you do anything stupid, Skyler will have you thrown out. This place is his fucking baby."
"I won't make a scene," I promise. "I just need to talk to her."
She doesn't respond, sighing and walking away from me, likely returning to her post at the bar.
With a deep breath, I wind my way back into the overwhelming crowd of people, searching for her, feeling like a fucking hunter sifting through the brush to find my target.
Mentally, I think through the few things I do know about her.
She's beautiful. Duh.
She dresses her curves impeccably.
She'stall.Likely taller than most women here. And if she's wearing heels, she'll be towering over them.
