“I’m sorry, sir, but there is nothing I can do about Abigail’s memory. It’s something she has to regain on her own.”
“When?” I ask, earning me a confused expression from the doctor.
“There isn’t some magic solution to how she can recover her memory, it’s up to Abigail if and when she recovers it,” she sternly states. It’s not the answer I want, but it’s the only explanation I believe she’s willing to give us.
“Matt, please,” I hear Abigail plead. When I look over at her, her eyes are glassy and I can tell she’s fighting the tears. Feeling like the biggest asshole for my reaction, I step towards her to wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I just want you to have answers, beautiful. I hate knowing you don’t know who you are,” I whisper to her.
“I don’t care anymore,” she states. “I’m happy the way I am,” she says loud enough for me to hear. If Abigail is happy with her outcome, then I have to be as well.
Looking over at the doctor, she now looks apologetic. “I really am sorry.”
“I just want to go home,” Abigail states.
I soon hear the click of the door shutting, announcing the doctor has left us all alone. Deep down inside I’m still pissed over the visit, but only because of my own selfish reasons.
THE ENTIRE CAR ride home I can feel the tension between Matt and me. I sat in turmoil as I consider what to say to Matt, but could not find the courage to speak. It was a darkened cloud that was hovering above us the entire three hours back to Portland. My thoughts keep returning to the feelings I have for Matt. Surrounded with the silence, I kept asking myself how it was possible that our relationship still existed. Was it the memories I held for him, or was it truly the bond of our love? Three hours is long enough for your mind to wonder to the unknown, and today was no different. Although we made small talk, I knew Matt was keeping his true feeling locked up within himself. It angered me more to know he couldn’t trust me enough to speak to me about them, but I know that makes me a hypocrite. Here I was sitting next to him, refusing to broach the subject. The resentment I knew we felt for each other was building with every minute that went by.
Pulling into the driveway of the house, I feel both bittersweet and uneasy of what was yet to come. Would we discuss what happened in Seattle, or push it aside as we’ve done for the past three hours? My thoughts are broken when I’m startled back to reality as the door slams behind me and we enter the house.
I watch as he tosses the keys and they skid across the counter. It is the final indication I need to confirm he’s still angry. He takes a seat on the couch with his elbows landing on his knees, allowing him to lean his head forward into his hands. Raking his hands through his hair before he grips it into his palms, the strain of his grip telling me he’s trying to keep his anger under control.
My anxiousness to ask him what is wrong is building, but the fear of angering him any further is keeping me from forming the question. I can’t move, but keep my feet rooted to the spot, watching from a distance.
He releases his grip to rake his hands down his face before enfolding them into each other as he stares out into the distance. Our silence takes over the room as it lingers longer than I want it too, but I still cannot find the words to ask him why he’s mad. I don’t have to wait long, though. “Why didn’t you tell me about the dream?”
I’ve been expecting him to ask. “Because that’s exactly what it was… A dream.”
He lifts his head up and his dark eyes are staring back at me. “I know it was more than you just falling down the stairs, Abigail. I want to know the details of the dream,” he demands.
“I think Bill pushed me down the stairs,” I rasp out.
“What!” he bellows as he stands. “And you didn’t think that was important enough to tell me? We should be pressing charges against that asshole for trying to kill you!”
His words are the reason why I haven’t told him. “Even if I tried to press charges, it’s his word against mine. What proof do I have besides a stupid dream?” I yell back. Raking his hand through his hair again, his frustration radiates off him. “At least it’s a start, Abigail. He needs to be behind bars in order for you to be completely safe. Until then all I can think about is what will happen if he gets to you again. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”
His words are now making me feel guilty. “I don’t understand why you choose to keep everything to yourself?”
“Just because I didn’t tell you about a dream?”
“It’s not just the dream. You didn’t tell the doctor about my sister’s memories.”
“They’re not my memories to tell, Matt. She asked if I’ve gotten my memories back and I haven’t,” I truthfully tell him.
He whips his head in my direction and his eyes are dark and full of anger. “But you are getting some memories. You should have told her about those,” he clarifies.
“I just want to understand why you’re getting them,” he explains. “Don’t you?” His question throws me aback. “I thought it was the reason for seeing the neurologist today.” He demands.
The realization of why he’s been insisting I see the neurologist finally hits me. “That’s the reason why you’ve been insisting I make that follow up appointment? So you can get answers as to why I’ve been getting these memories?” I ask him, demanding the truth as I watch him grow confused.
He turns sympathetic and all signs of his anger suddenly disappear. “It’s not about me, this is for you.”
“No it’s not, Matt. If it was, you wouldn’t be so angry at me right now,” I throw back at him, before adding, “You heard the doctor, she doesn’t understand, either.”
“Then why are you having them?”
“I don’t fucking know!” I shout at him, annoyed from being asked the repeated question as if I would know the answer myself. “You think I chose these memories, Matt? You think I woke up from my coma hoping that I didn’t have my own memory? No, I didn’t. But I wasn’t given a choice, and you’re making me wish I’d never got them in the first place!” I shout at him.
Rising, he stalks his way to stand in front of me. His hands fist at his side as he looks at me with regret. “I’m pissed because no matter how much you say you don’t care about your past, I know you do. I know how much you hate getting my sister’s memories.”
I’m shocked. “When have I ever said that?”
“You don’t have to say it, Abigail. I’ve seen the way you react after you get them. You look either angered or upset most of the time.”
I’m now thinking back to all the times I’ve gotten Emily’s memories and most of the time I’m with Matt, but I never knew I looked upset over getting them. On the contrary, they always seem to help me better understand Matt. Cautiously I step forward to reach for Matt so I can lay my hands on his chest. I can feel his rapid heartbeat telling me he’s either nervous or still angry, but by the somber look on his face, I have to believe it’s the first.
I make sure our eyes are locked as I say, “Matt, I never hate getting your sister’s memories. I might not understand why I get them, but I will never hate or regret I get them. Because of them I fell in love with you and with every new memory I gain, my love for you grows.”
My fist is now gripping onto his shirt as I continue to tell him, “I may never get my memory back, Matt, but that first memory brought me to you and I cherish every… single... one since then. Those memories alone are worth never knowing who I was.”
ABIGAIL WINCES AS she pulls her foot from my hold. I must have caused her some pain. “I’m sorry, beautiful,” I quietly apologize. “Do you want me to stop?” I ask, taking her ankle back in my hands to rub her foot. With a smile on her lips, she shakes her head. I continue to watch her from my side of the couch for any other type of reaction just in case.
I love days like today when we simply lounge on the couch with nothing to do but spend time with each other. It’s the perfect opportuni
ty to massage her ankle. I know her foot grows stiff and sore from wearing the boot, which is why every so often I’ll take her foot and begin to massage it for her. This time I believe I’ve hit a too sensitive sore spot.
She’s still staring at me; her eyes urge me to continue. “Don’t stop,” she nicely demands, giving her foot a light shove.
Still doubtful she isn’t in any pain, I don’t move. She nudges her foot into my hand again, this time with a little more force, causing me to chuckle. Resuming the massage, my fingers push into the heel of her foot, earning me a satisfied moan. I watch as she keeps her eyes closed and she lays her head back, biting down on her lip.
“You need to stop making those sounds,” I groan as my cock grows in my jeans. Her head snaps up and her eyes are wide in surprise. “What can you expect from a sex deprived man?” I playfully tease, knowing I’m far from being deprived when it comes to Abigail. “You only put out once last night, claiming you were tired,” I remind her, using my fingers to quote the word.
“Is that all you ever think about, Matthew Garcia? Sex?” she squeals.
“Most of the time, yes,” I answer, still teasing her.
She narrows her eyes at me, but from the hint of laughter in her eyes, I know she’s far from angry. Her other foot slowly starts rubbing against my groin as if to tease me in return, but instead I’m the one who wins when I gradually glide my finger up the inside her leg. Her once narrowed eyes are growing wide and I can see her pupils dilating as they radiate with her desire. “I was tired,” she purrs. “You kept me up most of the night before,” her lips now pouting as she continues to move her foot around and her breathing quickens. “You’re lucky I didn’t pass out on you during sex last night,” she playfully says before taking her lip in between her teeth.
“By the way you were snoring seconds after I rolled off you, I’m pretty sure you did,” I reply as I grab her other foot.
A small gasp comes from her lips. “I do not snore!” she says, yanking away the foot I was holding to shove it into my stomach.
I throw my head back to laugh. “I know, beautiful, I just love teasing you,” I joke before reaching in between her legs to pinch her. She yelps as she clamps her legs tightly shut, giving me the opportunity to further tantalize her. I start tickling her just so I can hear her laughter, which I love. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to further grind her hips into my hand, allowing me to continue teasing her. My mind is lost in the images of what I could be doing with Abigail instead, but my carnal thoughts are broken when I hear the front door open and closing announcing Trey’s arrival.
Abigail groans as her expression turns sour, making me laugh again as I stare at her now pouty face. Trey reaches the couch looking down at us as he stands behind us. “You guys up for heading to the Brewhouse tonight?”
Looking over to Abigail whose nose is scrunched up from the stench radiating off of Trey, she quickly answers. “Sure, why not? But you better take a shower first,” she adds, waving her hand in front of her face.
“What’s wrong, supermodel? Don’t love the smell of a real man?”
She rolls her eyes before looking over to me. “Yes, I do, and it isn’t you.”
The dejected look on Trey’s face is comical. “Whatever. Give me a few to jump in the shower,” I hear Trey shout as he walks away.
Bringing her ankle up to my lips, I place a gentle kiss on it, keeping my eyes locked with Abigail’s. It’s my way of seducing her. I know it’s worked when I hear her slightly gasp. Reaching down, I pick up the boot brace, carefully strapping Abigail’s foot back in it.
“You want some water?” I ask her as I sit up from the couch.
Instead of an answer, her eyes focus on my semi-erect cock bulging inside my jeans. It’s the reason why I stood up; I needed to breathe to make it disappear before we leave.
“Later,” I joke at her.
Leaving her on the couch, I start walking into the kitchen to retrieve our water, but I suddenly hear the tapping of her boot brace, indicating she’s following me. Turning, I’m surprised to see her already in front of me, glaring at me like a furious little a pixie.
“What?”
“What do you mean, what?” she utters with her hands on her hips. “You know exactly what you’re doing, Matt, and it’s not fair,” she barks out, stabbing me in the chest with her finger.
I step forward to wrap my arms around her waist. “I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I tease, nuzzling my nose below her ear to further torture the both of us. Inhaling her scent, I’m already regretting telling Trey we were going with him. With her hands holding onto my arms, she tilts her head to the side, allowing my lips to trail down her neck. “Do I need to take you to the bedroom to help you blow off your frustration?” I whisper into her ear with a chuckle. “I promise, beautiful, when we get back I’ll make sure to satisfy your every need,” I quietly growl into her ear as I gently bite down against her skin. She shivers in my arms as I continue to torment the both us.
Abigail suddenly pushes me against the counter and I’m left watching her sink down to her knees. My eyes go wide in surprise. I’m pretty sure I know what she plans on doing, but I don’t want to grow too excited since she’s never offered to do so before. I hear the shower turn on reminding me Trey takes the fastest showers known to man.
Silently cursing to myself, I say, “Abigail, we don’t have time.” I stare at the bathroom door mentally praying Trey will choose to jack off in the shower today.
I feel her hands unbutton my jeans, reaching in to spring my cock from my boxer briefs. “Hmmm, someone is already excited,” I hear Abigail purr before she wraps her hand around the shaft. I can’t resist looking down at her as her tongue darts out to lick the head of my dick. Holy… Fucking… Shit! The sight of her on her knees licking me practically makes me blow my load that very second.
“Abigail, Trey is going to get out of the shower any minute now,” I warn through gritted teeth. With a playful smile while looking up at me, she responds, “I guess I better make this quick,” she states right before she wraps her warm mouth around my cock. My hands dig into her hair as I let out a tortured hiss and close my eyes to savor the warmth of her mouth. I feel her slowly pull her mouth back, sucking harder as she retreats and pushes forward. Tightening my grip in her hair, I help guide her as she bobs her head back and forth. I cannot restrain myself as she continues to torture me. Her hand is moving to the rhythm of her mouth as I listen to her sensual moans from below. I cannot help but add to her sounds with my own. Forcing myself to open my eyes and look down at her, I see her eyes already looking up to me for the next few minutes. When I feel the head of my cock brush up against the back of her throat telling me my dick is completely imbedded in her mouth, I lose all self-control. “Oh, God, Abigail!” I shout up to the ceiling as I relinquish my control to hold back any longer and I release myself into the warmth of her mouth.
She looks up at me with a satisfied smile as she stands and envelopes herself in my arms. Behind her I hear Trey already opening the bathroom door. “Thank you,” I breathlessly whisper into her ear. Her lips place an open mouth kiss onto my neck. “You’re welcome,” she responds as I continue to slump against her, attempting to get my rapidly beating heart under control. Another minute later, I’m hastily buttoning up my pants as Trey walks into the living room.
“You fuckers ready?” he impatiently shouts.
With a smile still on her lips, Abigail turns and walks away saying, “Why do you have to rush?” Leaving me to think: I’m one lucky man.
AS USUAL, ON a night when the guys want to drink and watch the game, we end up at the Brewhouse. As we’re walking in the song Angel is blasting through the speakers as the hostess spots us. Giving us a tilt of her head to follow her to our usual table in the back, Trey walks ahead of us leaving us to follow. The music is about to play the chorus and from the corner of my eye, I see Matt rush a couple of steps ahead of me before he turns to face me. Placing h
is left hand over his chest and right arm pointing his finger at me, he sings along to the chorus.
“Girl your my angel, you’re my darling angel. Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby. Shorty you’re my angel, you’re my darling angel, girl you’re my friend when I’m in need, lady.”
His eyes are hooded as his lips are sensually curved up into a smile. He continues walking backwards as I glance behind him and see Trey with what looks like a disgusted look on his face as he watches. Matt is unconcerned with the crowd watching him. He’s singing the words only loud enough for me to hear them, but he’s putting on enough of a performance with his body movements.
“You’re a Queen and so you should be treated. Though you never get the lovin’ that you needed. Could have left, but I called and you heeded.”
With the next line he drops down to his knees as he brings his hands up in a prayer pose and continues to sing, and by now a small crowd has surrounded us.
“Begged and I pleaded, mission completed, mama said that now that I dissed the program. Not the type to mess around with her emotion. But the feeling I have for you is so strong. Been together so, and this could never be wrong.”
I’m blushing like a giddy schoolgirl at this point by the scene in front of me. Taking a quick glance at the crowd, our small little group is a mix of blissful girls who are ready to swoon over Matt, or glowering men who are glaring at him for out doing them. He gets up and grabs for my hands, but instead of singing, he’s bobbing his head to the beat with his body as he hums along.
Everyone is waiting to see what he will do next and with the next couple of lines, he lets go of my hands and starts up again as he continues his performance. Holding his hands to his chest, as in the beginning, he starts singing again.
“Girl your my angel, you’re my darling angel. Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby. Shorty you’re my angel, you’re my darling angel, girl you’re my friend when I’m in need, lady. Uh, Uh.”
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