by Daisy Allen
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I just stare at her, horrified. Praying that I’m dreaming.
“I didn’t know how much you’d had to drink, if I had known I wouldn’t have…”
“Wouldn’t have what? Framed me for the accident that almost killed me and Jez?” I scream and she flinches, the tears blurring her eyes. No, no. This is just another sick joke. They’re in on this together, she’s trying to help me get back with Jez. No one could do this. Let alone my best friend.
But I know. I know in my heart of hearts, it’s true. I knew that I was never the one driving that car.
“Oh my god, Paige. Is that why… is that why you paid for all my medical bills? Because you felt guilty?”
“No! I…”
“And… every time I asked you to help me with my memory exercises, you would come up with some excuse not to? You were scared I was going to remember…” The depth of the lies makes me shiver.
“Noémie… please. I made a mistake.” She grabs onto my arm, gripping tight, her eyes desperate.
“What else?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
“What do you mean?”
“I know there’s more. What else?”
“Nothing!”
“You’re still lying to me? After all this? I know there’s more! Tell me everything!” I shout and I see the last of her resolve crumble. There’s no going back now.
“Chris,” she whispers, her head lowering.
“What?”
“Chris! You… were never dating. You guys never dated. I… I paid him to pretend he was your boyfriend.”
Stars dance in front of me. And I have to take a moment to breathe.
“I knew it. I knew I could never have been with him. For God’s sake, why? Why, Paige??” In some ways, this is the biggest betrayal of all of them. Using my own memory loss against me. Abusing my trust in her.
Jez’s voice cuts through. “Because you were getting too close to me. She couldn’t risk me jogging your memory of that night. So… she…” he can’t even finish, it’s so abhorrent. His face is hard, unreadable. I can’t even imagine what he’s thinking about all this. But I don’t have the strength to deal with him right now. I can barely hold it together with Paige.
I think back to the conversations with Chris at the hospital, and my stomach sinks.
“But…But he knew things about me, my birthmark…”
She grimaces, and I want to slap her.
“You told him. You told him all the right things to say. You took advantage of my vulnerability, knew that I was questioning everything, everyone! You make me sick!”
“Noémie, please. I did it for the both of us! If I got in trouble, my Dad would have cut me off! He can’t take anything negative to do with our reputation.”
I shiver again. The blood in my veins running cold. “Did he know? Did your father know?”
She squeezes her eyes shut and then answers. “Yes. I told him. And he said if I ever told anyone, I’d be out on the street.”
A wave of nausea comes over me and I bend over, dry retching. My body trying to purge all this information.
“Noémie!” She tries to grab me, but Jez pushes away.
I hear Paige argue, “Get out of my way, she’s my friend.”
“Some friend.”
“Noémie!” She calls out to me, as I stand up straight, looking at her. Barely recognizing my own best friend.
I gather myself up to say what I want to say. “Get your things and get out of my house. I never ever want to see you again. Send me the bill, for every single cent. I’ll find a way to pay it all back.”
“Come on, Noémie. We have to talk about this!” she begs me, throwing her arms around me.
I don’t move. “I said, get the fuck out of my sight.” I pull her hands off me and take a step back, bumping into Jez. I bite my tongue, willing myself to stay strong. She stands there, saying nothing, and then flings herself down the sidewalk, running away from the house and down the road.
“Make sure she’s okay, and gets where she needs to go,” I can hear Jez say to someone, and through the thudding in my ears I hear two or three car doors close and an engine turn over as the car drives away.
Soon, other than a neighbor’s radio humming in the background, it’s completely silent.
As if the silence gives me room to breathe, I take a long breath, drawing lungs into the dusty nooks and crannies in my lungs.
And the damn breaks.
“Arrgghhhh,” I hear my voice make a sound like a wounded animal. My legs buckle and I drop to the ground. I feel Jez fall with me.
“Noémie,” Jez whispers, catching me in his arms, my face burying into his neck as I feel my body shaking with sobs.
“Paige…” I whimper through my tears. How could she? How could anyone do such a thing? How could she look me in the face and lie about something so serious? All those months making me think I had caused the accident, caused her injuries, caused my own. And then when I found out about Jez. That should’ve been her chance. Her chance to come clean. But she kept it quiet, all for her own selfish reasons.
And I lost the greatest love I could ever have imagined.
I lost Jez.
“Shhhh, it’s all over now. We know the truth now,” he whispers, lips against my hair. “It’s over.”
But it’s not.
It’s not over.
It’s only just beginning.
I let him hold me, until I can breathe through the tears.
Or should it be, I let me let him hold me.[R5]
Because I know it's wrong that he is.
He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be wrapping his arms around my body, his hands on my back, his chin resting on my head, like we should be together.
Because we shouldn't.
"No." I whisper as I move, dragging my body away from his. Each cell screaming in pain as I do, wanting only to cleave to him, to be close to him.
"Noémie," he says, as I extract myself from his embrace. "What's wrong?"
"What are you doing here, really, Jez?"
There's an instant furrowing of his brow, and his eyes cloud as he looks at me. I've seen that look before. It’s the look he first gave me when I told him I didn't know who he was, that day in the hospital.
Confusion.
"What do you mean? I came to tell you, that it was all a lie. You were never responsible for that accident, Noémie. It was never you."
"No, it was my best friend," I say. Even though I don’t know when I’ll really be able to fully accept it.
"Yes."
"Who's been lying to my face for three months. And I had no idea. I trusted her. Completely."
"You had no reason not to, sweetheart."
I feel my head shake, side to side. He doesn’t get it. I get up to my feet. My head feels clearer up her.
"No, I did have a reason. Because I knew. I knew, Jez. I knew that there was no way I would’ve got behind the steering wheel that night.”
"Well, you didn't remember what happened."
"No. I told you. Didn’t I tell you, that I know myself, I know that I didn't do it! I might not have remembered the exact details, but I knew I didn't do it."
"It's been a confusing time, but it's over."
"No! Listen to me! You don't get it!" I yell, desperate for him to understand.
"Explain it to me, then." He looks up at me, still kneeling on the ground.
"I told you I knew. I knew it in my bones, in my marrow that it wasn't my fault. I know me. And I would never be so irresponsible as to drive drunk. You heard Paige! I was trying to get her to stop driving when she was drunk. I wouldn’t do it myself!” I pace in front of him, incomplete thoughts forming an argument in my head. “Jez. I knew it. But I never followed up on it. I woke up from the coma, and they told me I caused the accident, that I was driving, my blood alcohol was over the limit, and even though I felt it in my bones that I couldn’t have done it, I didn't have the belief in myself to find
out more. I just put it down to my amnesia. That something had happened that night, and I had done something completely out of character."
"Well, that's understandable."
"But it's not excusable. I should've backed myself up. I should've fought for myself. You... you should've fought for me."
"Noémie."
"No, you should've... you should've given me at least the tiniest benefit of the doubt. Because I told you. I told you!"
He gets up on his feet, following me as I pace. "I'm sorry, can you blame me? It was a confusing time. I had just been ambushed with the news that you, you were the one driving the car that hit me. And if that wasn’t bad enough, that you were drunk at the time. I didn't have any reason not to believe them."
"You're right. About most of it. You had almost every reason but one. Me. You should've believed me." I point to my chest, where I’m radiating hurt from the betrayal of my best friend. And the lover I keep losing.
"Noémie."
"You came to me, a stranger out of the mist, telling me you knew me. And everything told me I didn't. But I chose to believe you. And I let you in."
"Why?"
"Because something told me I could trust you. But you can't say the same about me."
"We can work through this, Noémie. So much needs to be explained, talked about, understood about what really happened."
"It won't matter, Jez. In the end, I didn't fight for myself, and you didn't fight for me either.” It’s over. I know it is.
"No. This is bullshit. I DID fight for you. I fought YOU for you. You say you believed me in the beginning, but you didn’t. Not really. But I was there, every step. Making you trust me. I am NOT letting you go."
"You're right, I didn't believe you, at first. When you came barreling into my hospital room like a maniac! It doesn’t take a brain injury patient to be wary, anyone with any common sense would be. But after the initial shock, I was all in. I was so all in I was ready to marry you. Jez! And I still would've. Until I became the thing you hate most. And you were just so ready to believe it all."
"Noémie, please understand, it's a grudge I have. I couldn't get over it at first."
"And now?" I throw my hands up, what else is there to say.
He sighs, "You're not that person."
"But I might as well have been, Jez. Where we stand with my memory, you're just a stranger I used to know. And I'm the girl who hit you with my car."
"We'll get your memory back. I remember it, I remember it all. I can help you. I'll remind you every day,” he says clasping his chest, like his is hurting him too. And it takes every ounce of strength I have not to run to him, and hold him. Because it will just make it harder to leave in the end.
"No. I can't. I want to. God knows, I want to be with you so much, I'd almost give it all up for you. Lose myself in you. Live through you."
"So, come, be with me!”
"No, maybe I would’ve before, but I can't now. I let my injury dictate so much, so much that I was willing to believe something I knew I would never have done. That's not who I am. I don't want to exist just as someone you fell in love with, and you’re trying to recreate. I need to find out who I am."
"Don’t do this. I just got you back, Emmie.” His voice catches, cracking as he calls me by my nickname. It springs tears to my eyes.
"That person doesn’t exist, Jez.”
"You’re not your brain injury.” He catches my hand and presses it to his chest. “You exist in here as well, Emmie. And you exist as this living breathing person in front of me."
If words could make everything alright, those would be it. But it’s not as easy at that. I gently extract my hand from his.
"But I’m not whole."
"You don't have to be. Remember how you once said you wanted every jagged, broken piece of me?"
"I still do, I always will,” I say, hoping at least he will remember that. That this was never about how much I wanted him.
"Then let me do that for you.” His eyes fill with a desperation I know too well, felt too well, just a few months ago.
"I can't. I'm sorry. I... I need to find out who I am, not just try to regain who I was. Maybe now it's your turn, to forget you ever met me.” I reach up and touch the side of Jez Petrescu’s face one last time before I turn and walk towards my house.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Jez
"You ready?" Sebastian asks me, as we step into the green room.
"No."
"Too damn bad, man. Fifteen minutes ‘til curtain's up." He shrugs to say there’s nothing you can do about it now.
I glare at him. "I feel like, I want to say a big ol' ... ‘fuck you’ to you right now."
"Bring it on, dude.”
I breathe out, my shoulders relaxing. "Nah, I might save for later, when I really need to."
"Well, you know where I'll be."
"At the bar?"
"Nah, man. I’ll be right there next to you. Every single moment. I've got you." He hugs me tight before I have a chance to move.
"Fuck you." I say, trying to wriggle out of his embrace.
"Ha!” He laughs, following it up with, “14 minutes, 30 seconds."
"Fuck you, again.” I hiss.
“You wish. I know you’ve been envious of Cadence getting all this,” he runs his hands up and down his body, pouting his lips at me. He looks absolutely ridiculous. And I can’t help but laugh.
"Now, now. Get a room you two,” Brad pokes his head in between us to say.
"Fuck you, too."
"Hey! What's going on? I feel left out!” Marius yells from the spot on the floor where he’s meditating.
"No need to feel left out. You get a double fuck you! One for sleeping with my sister."
"So ‘fuck you’ is code for... ’thank you’? ‘Cos... that's what she said,” he grins.
I take a running leap and jump on him. Sebastian and Marius run over and instead of pulling me off him, pounce right on top. Soon we’re nothing but a pile of writhing arms and legs and curses.
"Whatever you fucktards are doing right now, stop it!" A loud voice comes booming out through the portable speaker we’re just noticing is on the table.
Brad pushes me off him and crawls over to the speaker, picking it up off the table.
"Aw hell, someone turned the fucking intercom on again."
"Yeah, me, who else,” Dennis says through the speaker. “And whoever is ragging on Jez, stop. And Marius, put your fucking pants on."
Marius looks down at his bare legs. "Dude. How does he know?"
"I know everything, remember? That’s why I feel no guilt in paying myself millions of dollars from the money I make for you dickweasels every year. NOW PUT YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES ON AND FOR GOD’S SAKES JUST CALM YOUR TITS AND TRY NOT TO KILL EACH OTHER BEFORE THE GODDAMNED FUCKING SHOW!"
There’s a buzz as Dennis shut the intercom off and we all grin at each other.
Fuck the millions of dollars and the fans. Right here, right now, this feeling, it's why we're here.
Each other.
Brad sighs, "I'd really like a blow job right now. I'm so nervous."
"Well, don't look at me, I just got told to put my pants back on."
"You don't need pants to give blow jobs!”
"Dude, I wouldn't know. I've been on the strictly receiving blow jobs only diet for my life." Marius grins at our viola player.
I sink down onto the end of the long couch, trying to breathe.
Sebastian cracks open a beer and hands it to me. I reach out and take a long drink, then hold it in my hands, picking at the label.
His right eyebrow cocks, but he doesn’t say anything. I guess he sees my hand shaking as it grips the bottle neck.
It’s kind of hard to miss.
“I’m okay,” I say, answering the question in his eyes. But the truth is, I’ve been asking myself the same question all day.
I check my watch. Five minutes to curtain’s up. For our first concert since the acc
ident.
Since I collided with a car.
Well, it collided with me.
And then I collided with the ground.
Hard.
Eight months.
It’s been a long, painful, soul destroying, heart wrenching eight months. And truthfully, only a very small part of it was because of the accident and my injuries. The rest has been trying to put my life back together since her.
Noémie.
It’s been over three months since I saw her that day in front of her house.
And I’ve called her every day since.
Up until today.
Today, I tell myself, will be the last time. If she doesn’t answer today, I will stop.
I will let her move on. I will let myself let go.
Today.
I’ve been on this precipice before.
The dawning of a new age.
This time, it’s for a life without her.
A good life, a meaningful one, one filled with friends and music.
But not with her.
One more day, I give myself.
Because hope exists when everything else is gone.
Over the last few months, I’ve realized she was right. I didn’t fight for her. I let the grudges of my past cloud my view of life. She’s right. I hadn’t given her a chance. Yes, for all intents and purposes, it appeared she had caused the accident. There was almost no reason to doubt it.
Except the only reason that counted.
Trust.
She told me, time and again, that she couldn’t imagine it had been her fault.
But I didn’t listen.
When she had given me all the patience and belief she could summon in that giant heart of hers.
So, I don’t deserve her.
But I love her.
And I had hoped that that would be enough.
But I guess it wasn’t.
And now I’m the one who has to live the rest of my life with my mistake.
“Two minutes.” Brad says.
And I look up, watching Sebastian pacing around the green room. Part of his pre-show routine. He usually starts the show, so all the burden of that first note is on him. While the rest of us relax, knowing it’s not on our shoulders to kick the show off right.