Six Weeks of Loving You

by Karli Perrin

  “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  “I tell you the same thing every damn time but you’re so stubborn.”

  “Well stop telling me then. Save your breath.”

  “It’s just frustrating for me to watch.”

  “Then don’t watch it,” I reply defensively.

  “Don’t be like that. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

  “I am happy.”

  “You deserve to be loved.”

  I sigh as I look at Spencer’s screwed up napkin. “Even if I deserved it, they would deserve more than what I could offer them.”

  “Bullshit. You could offer them everything and more. You could give somebody an extraordinary life.”

  “Extraordinary for all the wrong reasons. Look, I get that you’re my best friend and you’re trying to be kind but we both know that I’ll never be able to give somebody what they truly deserve.”

  “Yes, you could. You are enough, Cora. Just you. Regardless of what has happened in the past or what’s going to happen in the future. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  “If we discuss this as much as you say we do then you must be getting tired of hearing me say the same thing over and over.”

  “I’ll never give up, not on this.”

  “I’m falling asleep here.”

  “Oh, thanks. Why don’t you just go ahead and call me boring?”

  I laugh. “I forgot how tired I get after editing.”

  “Yeah, it’s rough on you the first couple of days. Just try and relax as much as you can. You find it much easier when you go slow…oh, and don’t do too much research.”

  I laugh. “What do you mean?”

  “If you start googling everything, you get upset. Just take it day by day. The important things are in the book, and if you need to know anything else, ask me, rather than google. Anyway, go take a nap. What are you doing later?”

  “I’m not sure.” I glance over at the calendar which is hanging on the wall next to my bed. I’ve crossed out the first twenty-two squares, but today is completely empty. “Today is the twenty third, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Of January…”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Two thousand nineteen?”

  She laughs. “Yes.”

  “Then I have no plans.”

  “Why don’t you come over to my place? We can watch a movie or something.”

  “Ah, I don’t know. I feel pretty drained.”

  “We can be drained together.”

  Waking up this morning to discover that I have amnesia doesn’t really make me want to be alone right now. “What time?”

  “I get off work at five so any time after five-thirty.”

  “Okay, see you later...if I’m awake by then.”

  I fall asleep within seconds of hanging up.

  ***

  I’m almost at Roxy’s apartment when a voice stops me in my tracks. “Damn, you’re looking good, Cora.”

  I wheel around to see who the voice belongs to and come face-to-face with a complete stranger. “Um, hello…” I reply, which comes out sounding like a question.

  He smirks. “You don’t call, you don’t write. How have you been?”

  Apart from the train crash and amnesia, I’ve been awesome. “Not bad. You?”

  “I’m doing much better now that I’ve seen you. Are you dating?”

  Why is the handsome stranger asking if I’m dating? I obviously know him from somewhere. Think, Cora, think. “Um…no, I’m not.”

  “Then we should get together, some time. Call me, yeah?”

  It would help if I knew your name. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll…um…have to check my schedule.”

  He winks. “You better.” He takes one last look at me and then shakes his head. “I’ve been missing out while I’ve been away.”

  I smile politely, which makes me think of Spencer and the way he politely smiled at the group of girls earlier. Since leaving Sanctum, I haven’t managed to last longer than ten minutes without thinking of him. I decide to blame it on the coffee. Hot guys and coffee are a lethal combination. It’s as though they were working together to stimulate all of my senses at once. Sight – check. Smell – check. Taste – check. And my personal favorite - touch. I’ve already spent too much time thinking about Spencer’s hands on me. And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t imagined what he might taste like. Bad Cora. Bad, bad Cora.

  I continue down the hallway and ring the doorbell when I reach Roxy’s apartment. “Hey,” Roxy says, wrapping her arms around me.

  “Blonde guy,” I say to her. “Tall, handsome, awesome cheekbones. He knew me and told me to call him. Does that mean I actually have his number?”

  She rolls her eyes and gestures for me to come inside. “That’s Jared. He lives a few doors down from here.”

  “So that’s it? He’s just your neighbor?”

  She laughs. “Just my neighbor?”

  “Well, has anything happened between us? He seemed very friendly. A little too friendly. It’s embarrassing not being able to remember anything. It’s like I have a permanent hangover and constantly worry about what I might have said or done.”

  “You’ve used that analogy before.”

  “Have I?”

  “Quite a few times.”

  “See – I don’t even remember that.” I sigh. “This is why I can’t date, Rox. I don’t want to bump into someone and wonder if they’ve seen me naked.”

  “He hasn’t seen you naked.”

  “Good.”

  She lowers her voice. “But, um, you did get wasted and kiss him a few months ago, before he went travelling.”

  “Just a kiss?”

  “Yep. I dragged your ass out of there.”

  “Good. Keep up the good work.” I lean against the wall and struggle to take off my knee-high boots. “Hey, do you have a heating pad? I’ve got such bad period cramps.”

  She looks over her shoulder. “Um…”

  “It feels like my vagina is actually about to drop off.”

  “Cora…”

  I sit down at the kitchen table and struggle to take the other boot off. “I mean, why the hell am I being punished for not being pregnant? Congratulations, you didn’t get knocked up so here’s your reward. Pain. Ugh, it’s not fair. Men get it so easy.”

  “I agree,” a familiar voice says from behind me. I close my eyes and pray that I’ll wake up from this nightmare. When it doesn’t happen, I turn around slowly and cringe when I see Spencer. What the hell is he doing here? He bites his lip, trying his best not to laugh. “Hello, Cora.”

  “Spencer,” I say, through clenched teeth.

  “Sorry,” Roxy says, looking sheepish. “I, um, don’t have a heating pad.”

  “I’ll go and get one for you,” Spencer says before squeezing past me to get to the door. I blush when his body presses up against mine. He pauses for a split second, his eyes ablaze, but I quickly look away, breaking the connection which stripped me bare.

  I let out a breath as soon as the door closes behind him. “What the hell is he doing here?” I whisper angrily.

  “He gave me a ride home and when I mentioned that you were coming over, he asked if he could stay and hang out.”

  “And you said yes?”

  “Well, obviously.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve set me up.”

  “I haven’t set you up.”

  “You have totally set me up.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Say no?”

  “Yes! That’s exactly what you were supposed to do. Or at the very least text me to give me the heads up.”

  “What difference would it have made?”

  “Well for a start, I wouldn’t have come in here talking about my vagina falling off! Damn it, Roxy!”

  She laughs. “It’s fine. He didn’t care.”

  “Well I care. It’s embarrassing!”

  “So you care what he thinks of you, huh?”

  I giv
e her a pointed look. “Don’t start with that crap. I would have been embarrassed no matter who it was.”

  “Just relax and get to know him. He mentioned grabbing tacos later.”

  Right on cue, the front door opens and Spencer strolls in holding a heating pad. “Here you go, Sunshine.” His smirk makes me want to kiss him and punch him at the same time.

  “Thank you,” I reply as I take it from him. “Where did you get this?”

  “I borrowed it from next door.”

  I groan. “I hope you didn’t tell them why you needed it.”

  “Nah, I just told her I was cold.” He glances at Roxy. “She offered to warm me up.”

  Roxy laughs in response. “Typical Verity.”

  I feel a twinge of jealously, which I know is completely ridiculous. “You should take Verity out for tacos to say thank you. I hear you’re in the mood for them.”

  “I’m always in the mood for tacos.” He takes a step back to get a better look at me. “The question is, Cora, are you in the mood for tacos?”

  “Nope, but I’m sure your friend next door would love to go with you. Hey, she can warm you up afterwards.”

  He laughs. “Yes, I’m sure eighty-three-year-old Verity would love to go out to dinner with me,” he replies. “She’s in bed by eight o’clock every night though, so I’d have to meet her straight from work.”

  And now I feel ridiculous for being jealous of an old lady, even if it was only for a few seconds. This is why I stick to imaginary dates and boyfriends. No drama.

  “Why don’t you two go and choose something to watch on Netflix,” Roxy says. “I’ve just got to make a quick phone call.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “And who exactly are you calling?”

  “A friend.”

  “Which friend?”

  She raises an eyebrow right back. “You won’t remember him. Choose something good to watch, won’t you?”

  I roll my eyes before walking into the living room. I glance around suspiciously. The lights are dimmed, and candles have been lit. “So how long are we going to do this for?” Spencer asks from behind me.

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend that we don’t want to rip each other’s clothes off.”

  I turn to face him. “We want to rip each other’s clothes off?”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “Oh. Well thanks for letting me in on that. I wasn’t aware.”

  “You’re a terrible liar, Cora.”

  “Well…you’re a terrible…latte artist.”

  He chuckles. “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry. That was mean.”

  “But it’s true.” He lowers his voice. “Do you want to know a secret?” I nod. “I want to quit, but I won’t because this way I’ll get to see you every morning.”

  “You sound like a stalker.”

  “I’m not…but if I had to stalk somebody, it would definitely be you.”

  I tilt my head to one side and pretend to be deep in thought. “I’m trying to decide if that’s sweet or creepy.”

  “Let’s go with sweet.”

  “Let’s go with creepy,” I reply.

  “Let me take you out to dinner.”

  Jeez, this guy is relentless. “I’ve already told you that I don’t date.”

  “Neither do I.”

  I frown. “So then why are we even having this conversation?”

  “Because I’m not asking you to date me.”

  “Then what are you asking me to do?”

  “To have dinner with me.” He laughs. “I just want to feed you.”

  I laugh. “Have you got some kind of food fetish or something? Would it turn you on to think about shoving tacos into my mouth?”

  His eyes dance with amusement. “No, but it would turn me on to think about shoving something else into your mouth…” Desire pools in the pit of my stomach, threatening to spill over. “I’m just asking you out to dinner, Cora. No strings attached.”

  “But I’ve only known you for five minutes.”

  “It feels like a lot longer, right? I didn’t know there was taco etiquette. Is there a rulebook? How long do I have to wait?”

  I sigh as I sit on the couch. “I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would love to…ouch!” He sits down beside me and I get an intense electric shock when his thigh brushes against mine. “You just gave me an electric shock!”

  He chuckles. “See, we have great chemistry. You feel the spark between us…literally.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “As I was saying…I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would love to eat you…with you…eat with you.” Jesus Christ. I sigh. “Look, I’m just trying to be honest with you. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m not even looking to date. My life is complicated enough. I come with a lot of baggage.”

  “Then let me hold a couple of bags for you.”

  “What?”

  He shrugs. “I can lighten the load.”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Do what?” Roxy asks as she enters the room. “Are you two playing nicely?”

  “Of course we are,” Spencer replies.

  “Good. Do you want to order some food?”

  “Yes, we’ve decided on tacos,” Spencer replies.

  He feigns innocence when I raise my eyebrow in question. “Pizza,” I tell her. “We want pizza.”

  He grins. “I like it when you refer to us as we.”

  “I’ll have pizza. Spencer can have whatever the hell he wants.”

  His eyes turn dark. “Are you sure about that, Cora? Because I know exactly what I want.”

  “So, wait…just to be clear, what the hell am I ordering?” Roxy asks, looking confused.

  I laugh. “We will have…” I stop myself and hold up a finger. “I will have whatever you’re having. You can decide.”

  “Oh, I’m not ordering anything for myself. Something has come up, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  “Nope,” I say as I stand up. “Nope, nope, nope. No way.”

  “What?” she asks innocently.

  “You know what. Sorry but it’s not happening. Goodnight, Spencer.”

  He chuckles and by the look on his face, he can also see straight through Roxy’s lie. “Goodnight, Cora.”

  Roxy runs out of the room after me. “Wait!”

  I shake my head as I put my boots back on. “I know exactly what you’re up to. When you want a girl’s night, call me.”

  “Come on. Please don’t leave. I’ll stay and watch something with you. We can order pizza.”

  “I don’t even want pizza.”

  “But you just said…”

  “I know what I said.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  I sigh. “I really want tacos.” I hear Spencer chuckle from the other room. Smug bastard. “Goodnight, Roxy.”

  She hangs her head. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help but I promise I’ll stop. Please stay.”

  “Nah, I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning though. I need to push on with editing.”

  “Okay. I’ll have your coffee ready and waiting. Text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe.”

  “Will do.”

  Spencer calls out my name just as I’m about to leave. I turn around to see him holding the heating pad out to me. “Please take this with you. Verity won’t miss it. She had a few of them. She even let me choose the color.” He takes a step closer and gestures for me to take it. “Please.”

  I look down at it. “Why did you choose a yellow one?”

  He shrugs. “It’s my favorite color.”

  I don’t tell him that it’s my favorite color too. Instead, I thank him and take it from him. I go to leave for a second time and just as the door is closing behind me, I hear him say, “I certainly wouldn’t want your vagina to fall off.”

  Just when I thought I couldn’t hate periods any more than I already do.

  Chapter Four

  I’m still half asleep wh
en my knee brushes against something cold and hard. I squeal and leap up out of bed, unable to recall the last time I moved so fast. I place my hand over my heart, which is trying to escape from my chest.

  I glance around the room in search of a weapon. I eventually settle on a stiletto and grab hold of the heel, readying myself for battle. I watch the mysterious bed invader for at least one whole minute and when I’m positive that it hasn’t moved, I lift the cover and quickly toss it to the ground. The anticipation of what I’m about to find makes me run in the opposite direction but my shoe falls to the floor with a dull clunk when I spot the culprit.

  The cold and calculated heating pad.

  I groan and sit on the edge of my bed, feeling like a total idiot. This is another reason why I don’t date. At least nobody was here to witness my ridiculousness. Then again, maybe I’m looking at it all wrong. Maybe if I did date, I would have a big, strong man to rescue me from everyday household objects.

  I throw it onto the chair next to my door, then shuffle back until I’m leaning against my headboard. I notice my scrapbook out of the corner of my eye and grab it from my bedside table. I have no idea how many times I’ve read it, but it never gets old. Like a loyal friend, it’s always there for me when I need it. I flick through the pages and it instantly feels like home. It has details about the accident and photos from before and after it. A past version of myself thought it would be helpful, and I’m thankful for that. Waking up and seeing the wrong day and year on your cell has a way of freaking you the fuck out. The scrapbook answers most of my questions, and there are also some useful numbers in the back, including Roxy, my sister and my neurosurgeon.

  I’m about to close it when I notice that a page has been ripped out near the back. I frown and run my fingers along the jagged edge. I can’t help but wonder what the old me didn’t want the new me to see. But I let it go, as I have no choice but to trust myself. I have to trust that in every six-week block, I’m doing the right thing, not only for my present self but for my future self too.

  I close the scrapbook and check my calendar, like I do every morning. It’s important that I have some organization and structure in my life, since I’m not in control of a lot of things right now. I’m no longer the care-free girl who floats from day to day, and from job to job, living my life however the hell I want to.

  According to my calendar, I don't have any plans for today, but I’m supposed to be visiting my sister tomorrow. I give her a quick call before I get ready to head to Sanctum.