by Daisy Allen
Everything he says... everything he seems to know about me, is true.
"Do we...?" I start, but don't know how to finish.
"Do we what, babe?"
"Do we... are we... intimate?"
A grin spreads across his face and I have to admit he's good looking, in a slick, too charming kind of way. Did I fall for it?
"Yeah, babe, of course. Why do you think we spend every night together?" He shifts closer on the couch, and leans in, his mouth hot against my ear, "you love it when I kiss that little yin yang birthmark you have on your butt."
I gasp. My birthmark.
How could he know about my birthmark?
Nobody knows. Nobody. Unless they've seen it for themselves.
Oh my god.
He seems to pick up on my reaction.
His eyes widen and he clasps my hand. "Babe! Do you believe me now? Do you finally believe me?
I can't do anything but nod. I believe him. I have to.
"Oh my god, Noémie, I've missed you so much!" A smile breaks on his face and he looks so happy. He pulls me into a hug, his arms tight around my body. "Oh, baby! I'm so happy!"
I don’t hug him back, but I don’t pull away. I don’t want to hurt him.
"But you remember, or at least, you believe me now. Now we can be together, I'll help you! Anything you need. And as soon as you get better, you can come home, with me, and I'll take care of you!"
"Chris..."
He backs off a little, looking worried. "Oh, too fast? Sorry. Okay, we'll take it as slow as you need. I don’t care. I'm just glad I can come and see you now, now that you kinda remember. We can start making plans! We can rebook the trip to see your mom, since she's not coming out here. We can go somewhere for my birthday in a few weeks, as well. I'm going to take you to the new sushi place that's just opened up!"
He jumps up, reeling things off, counting on his fingers. He really does look so happy.
I think... I think it's because of me. Me. I made him happy. How could my brain forget something like this? Someone attached to me like this?
I'm broken. I really am.
He turns to smile at me, and nothing moves inside me.
Give it time, my mind tells me. Give me time to heal. Don't be too rash and give up something that could mean so much to you... just because you don't remember them.
But my heart, my hearts tell me, give it all up, for someone else I don't remember from my past, but who means everything to me now, in the present.
***
Chris leaves about half an hour later.
It can’t have been soon enough. My head was pounding but he seemed so happy that I didn't have the heart to ask him to leave. I fell asleep pretty much as soon as he left, my dreams filled with all the things he'd told me. What we'd done together, things we'd planned for the future.
It sounds like we were happy.
I can't imagine what it must be like for him, to wake up one day and have his girlfriend, me, be gone.
I didn't recognize him at all, the first time he came to visit me at the hospital, he says. And I'd been quite distressed. So, he'd stayed away, given me time to heal. But he couldn't wait any longer, he'd said. Now he is back. For me.
And I still don't remember him.
"Knock, knock," Paige says, not knocking actually and walking straight in. "Who's the heartbreaker sitting outside?"
"That's Mike, my bodyguard. I told you about him." I wave to him and he sits back down on his chair. I'd called her after the incident at the elevator. I thought she was going to explode with both excitement and anger. She loves a good celeb sighting, but she was pretty mad that I'd been in some sort of danger.
"Do you think he's single?"
"Why don't you ask him?"
"Because I'm a little scared of him. Scared and turned on. Which, as you know, is the best combination."
I shake my head but can't help smiling. To be honest, I'm happy to see her. I'm still shaken up from the day's events; the paparazzi crazies and then finding out I’m dating Chris. Jez hasn't even been by, and I'm sure he has a reason, but it'd be good to get to ask him a few questions about what happened, and to make sure he’s okay as well.
"What are these?" Paige says, pointing to the flowers Chris brought.
"Um, flowers."
"Yeah, I can see that, where are they from?"
"Chris. My boyfriend," I say, matter-of-factly. To see how she reacts.
Paige stops fussing with her bags and turns slowly toward me. I can't read anything from her expression. And it's like she's waiting, in turn, to see how I react.
"I have a boyfriend. Chris. You know Chris."
She takes a long breath and comes to sit by me on the couch.
"I do know Chris," she nods.
"And do you know he's my boyfriend?" And I can't help but silently beg that she says no. It would make it all easier to deal with.
She pauses, then nods again, slowly. "Yes."
Fuck.
"Paige." I say, trying to urge her to give me more information but it sounds more accusatory than I meant to.
"I'm sorry. We, um, he and I agreed that it would be better to give you some time to heal first. You were pretty distressed when he came the first time."
"Oh my god." My head suddenly starts to pound, and I close my eyes, trying to brush away the stars that appear. I was barely dealing with one forgotten, let alone two, one who I've obviously had an intimate relationship with.
"It's okay, honey. We'll sort it out," she says, squeezing my hand.
"I don't want to sort it out!" I burst out loud, and she flinches but doesn’t say anything. "I don't feel ANYTHING for him, in fact, the last thing I DO remember is being utterly disgusted by him!" I shout even louder, finally ready to verbalize the feelings I've been having since he came into my room. "I don’t understand how this happened. It just doesn’t make any sense!!"
"Honey," she says softly, patting my shoulder. "You've got an injury. This is part of the recovery."
"Then I don't want to fucking recover," I yell, the anger still bubbling inside me.
"I know. I'm sorry. It sucks," she says. And I feel instantly bad for yelling, even if it wasn’t meant to be at her. Not after everything she's done for me. "Maybe, though. Maybe just give him a chance. I mean you are starting to remember a few more things slowly, maybe he'll come back to you soon."
"But what about Jez?" I say. Asking her the question, I've been asking myself since I found out I apparently have a boyfriend.
"What about him? Is he your boyfriend?"
"No. Not that I know of," I have to admit.
"Not that I know of either. You never mentioned him to me before. But Chris... Chris I know about."
"Shit." I lay my head down on her shoulder.
She sighs and brushes the hair from my forehead. "Don't think about it too much more tonight, honey. You need some rest."
"Yes, she does," we hear a voice at the door. "You are going to need your rest... so that you can go home in a few days."
"What?" Paige says, jumping to her feet, her mouth dropping open.
"What are you saying, doctor?" I ask him, afraid he's going to say it’s a joke.
He grins, like he’s used to this idiocy over happy news. "Well, we've looked at your test results from this morning, and it looks like everything's recovering as it should. Now, I know you still have a problem with your amnesia, but there's nothing we can do but monitor that. Otherwise, your skull fracture is all healed, your neck seems to be fine. You can go home."
All of the last few minutes is forgotten and Paige and I turn to each other and scream.
"YESSSSSSSSS!"
"FUCK YAYYYYYYYY"
The doctor grimaces and covers his ears and waits for us to calm down.
"Yes, well. Um, I'm glad you're happy. I'll come back tomorrow and we'll talk about what needs to be done when you go, but I'd say by Friday, you can get on out of here."
My whole body feels light,
a weight lifted. "Oh my god, doctor, thank you!" I gush.
Paige runs over to him and gives him a big hug. He just stands there like a totem pole, but doesn’t look too unhappy. He gives me a nod and a smile before he leaves.
"Oh, Noémie ! You can go home!" Paige squeals.
I look at her, disbelievingly. "I know! I can’t believe it!"
"I'm going to get everything ready, okay? Don't you worry about a thing. I'll going to clean your room, shoo away the spiders, organize a huge party, maybe see if your Mom can come up!" It's the second time someone paced happily in my room that day, reeling off things on their fingertips.
"Hey, Paige," I call out to her, but she doesn’t hear me.
I grab a cushion and launch it at her head. She barely notices it bouncing off her cheek but she does turn around.
"Thank you," I say. And she grins.
"Paige and Noémie, together again!” she sings, doing a silly dance.
"Hey, shut up for a minute. Listen to me." She sits down and I take her hand in mine this time. "Thank you, for everything." She squirms a little, like the gratitude is uncomfortable for her. But I need her to know. "Thank you. I... I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for you. There's no way I could've afforded all this. I’d be in some hospital, not knowing who or where I was. And God knows how long the insurance would’ve held out. I’m probably alive because of you.”
"Hey. I'm probably alive because of you."
“Well, that we know is true.”
We grin at each other until our faces get sore, and go back to dancing around the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jez
I’m back in the backseat of the car again.
This time Anca isn’t there.
Slowly I can just make out the silhouette of the driver and the passenger in the front seat.
I’m in the car with Mom and Dad again.
On the same road.
"Mom! DAD!" I yell out.
And they laugh and turn around, looking at me.
They look exactly the same as they did the last time. So young, so beautiful, so happy, so much love in their eyes.
"Hey, Jezzy! Want to go get some ice cream?"
"Of course, he does, when has he ever said no to ice-cream?" Dad says to her and she laughs, patting him on the arm.
She turns again to the back seat, smiling at me, while Dad quickly looks at Mom, his eyes filled with adoration for his beautiful wife.
I'm looking forward.
And I'm the only one who sees it.
"DAD!!! WATCH OUT!" I yell, but it's too late.
Everything flashes bright as the headlights of a car coming right toward us blinds me.
The last thing I see is Mom's smile turning into a look of intense horror and fear and Dad's head hitting the steering wheel.
And then my whole body crumples onto itself, and then it's over.
Everything is black.
Except it's not.
I'm awake.
And everything is bright again.
White.
White walls, white bed linens, white plastic cup on the tray in front of me.
I open my eyes and everyone is there.
"Where are Mom and Dad?" is the first thing I say.
And they say nothing.
Because there's nothing to say.
"Where are they?" I yell.
And again, they say nothing.
What do you say when you're the only one to survive?
***
I wake up. My T-shirt is dark from sweat. The bed sheet kicked off and the pillow pushed onto the ground. But the memory of my nightmare is still fresh in my mind. I brush my hand over my face and it's wet. From sweat, I tell myself, but I know it's from tears.
It wasn't a nightmare. It's reality.
My parents were in a car accident. I was in a car accident of sorts.
How come I'm the only one to survive?
I lean over and try to reach for the pillow. My arms protest a little with stiffness, but I ignore it, trying to grip it with my hand. My wrists and fingers refuse to move, so I pull them back.
And think of her. Breathe deep, and think of her.
Make a fist, I hear her urge me. You can do it, Jez.
And my fingers move.
I reach over again, and my fingers grab the pillow. I push it under my head and close my eyes.
Willing that the thoughts are done torturing me for the night.
Only to be replaced by others.
Of her.
Belonging to somebody else.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Noémie
There's no note for me, Robbie tells me, even though I don't ask. He can see it in my eyes, I guess. No note to explain what happened earlier this morning. No note with a song title. No note, to tell me that he's thinking of me like I’m thinking of him.
And it is him that I'm mostly thinking of, when I should be thinking of Chris. Chris, who tells me we're together.
Who tells me things he shouldn't know about me, and that I should know things about him.
Who I have no recollection of, besides those few times he came onto me and I couldn’t get away.
Who definitely elicits no feelings in me.
No, it's all Jez. Jez is the one I want. Jez is the one I want to want me.
There's a quiet tick, and I know the clock has just struck midnight.
My second to last midnight here.
This time two days from now, I’ll be back in my own bed, this place behind me. Maybe Jez behind me as well.
I pick up my ukulele. My door is unguarded, since Mike left around 8 p.m., telling me there shouldn't be any more trouble since they've got plenty of people outside and someone outside of Jez's door in case I need anything.
I walk to the family activity room, barely glancing at Jez's closed door, trying to push him out of my mind. I sit in the dark for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude that it brings. No light to interfere with my thoughts. And I sit and count my breaths.
It's not going to be like this for much longer. Life will soon return to being hectic.
Living with Paige is the very definition of hectic.
But it is real. The last few months have been anything but normal. Quiet and restful and meditative and somewhat surreal. But definitely not normal. And it's time to go back to my life. Whatever it was. And whatever it will be.
I quickly tune my ukulele and prepare to play.
Whatever my life was before, at least now it will include music again.
I tinker with a melody dancing around in my brain. It's simple, but emotional, dark and full of longing. Words start appearing and I sing along in my head. Songwriting has never happened so easily for me.
But I guess I have a lot to say, and there's a very special way it wants to be heard.
I strum the chorus again, humming along this time. But the words, the words stay in my head. Ready to come out only when it's time.
I play the entire song again, embedding it in my mind. The last chord is played, and I lean back. Satisfied. I have a name for the song too.
And it's perfect.
It's much later now, I can tell from the position of the moon in the sky. One more night, I tell myself. I have one more night.
I get up and tuck the ukulele under my arm, and step outside into the hall.
I bump up against a hard chest, and look up into dark, green eyes.
"Jez!" I gasp, purely out of surprise.
"Sorry," he says. "I... I didn't know you were coming out.” His back is to the light and I can’t properly see his face.
"Were you waiting for me?"
He doesn’t say anything. Just keeps staring at me.
"Why didn't you come in?" I ask him again.
"Did you want me to?" His voice is low, husky, restrained. He’s trying to hold back on saying something. I wish he would just say it. I think I want to hear it.
"Why else would I be here?" I say, giving him the answer
even before it has occurred to me. Of course, that's why I was here. Waiting for him. Waiting for him to tell me he has come for me.
He exhales hard and spins around, his back to me. Before I can stop him, he pulls his hand back and then thumps against the wall. I grimace, just as he hisses with pain, pulling his hand against his chest.
"Oh, Jez!” My body hurts for him as I reach out to touch his back. “Are you okay?"
He jumps as my touch, like I’ve burned him and he growls, "No! I'm not fucking okay! Fuck!"
He spins back around and grabs my shoulders, pulling me against him.
"Forgive me, god, please forgive me," he whispers and he leans in, his breath, hot and sweet against my face.
He's going to kiss me. He's finally going to kiss me.
I hold my breath and close my eyes.
And this time, all I can see is Chris's face. My eyes snap open and I press hard on his chest, pushing him away.
'I can't... I... I have a boyfriend," I say, even though the words have no meaning to me.
Jez squeezes his eyes shut and pulls away, leaning his head against the wall.
"I know. That’s why I needed you to forgive me. I wanted to kiss you anyway.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jez
She said it. She said the words, and I can't ignore them now. She's taken. She can't be mine. All this dreaming and hoping, has come to nothing.
I can't have her and I’ll have to live with it.
It's a good thing I'm leaving. Because I don't think I could handle having her two doors down, and knowing that I can't do anything about it.
"Jez, I'm sorry," she says, her hand against my arm.
I turn to her and she takes a step back, pulling her hand away.
She looks at me, her eyes filled with longing. I know she wants me. Boyfriend or not, she wants me just as much as I want her. Crave her. Desire her. Burn for her.
To hell with it.
I grab her by the forearm, ignoring the pain in my hand and pull her to me. Her eyes widen, and flood with heat. See? She wants me. Me.