Forget Me Not

by Tyler, Q. B.

  I’m tired of feeling like I’m in this marriage alone. I’m tired of feeling like I can’t grieve. That my feelings don’t matter.

  I need a fucking drink.

  A lot of them.

  I need space.

  I’m off the bed before I can think about what I did that night.

  No no no, this cannot be happening.

  I enter the bathroom, closing it behind me quietly to not disturb Olivia. I grip my hair, cursing my memory for choosing now to come back.

  Just when I’d gotten Olivia back.

  Just when she’d finally let me back in. I stare at my reflection, the heavy feeling in my chest making me feel like I’m having a heart attack.

  I don’t know what’s more aggressive: the pounding in my temples or the nauseous feeling in my stomach. I rub my forehead and groan.

  “Fuck.” I turn my head into the pillow and immediately my stomach rolls at the smell.

  When the hell did Olivia start wearing…what the hell is this, peach? I throw the pillow away from me, the smell making me even more physically ill when I hear a chuckle. Even in my hungover state I know that giggle does not belong to my wife. “I made coffee.” I hear the mysterious voice speak and then my eyes fly open. I’m met with blue eyes and a fresh face with long blonde hair pulled over her shoulder. A strange woman wearing a Florida State t-shirt over bare legs is staring at me with a faint smile ghosting across her lips. She holds a mug out for me and my eyes ping-pong back and forth between the cup and her and my naked body underneath the sheet.

  “What…what the fuck?” I’m immediately up and off the bed and I note the time on her nightstand reads just after 5 AM. “What…how? Who…?” I look at my left hand, wondering briefly if I’d dreamt Olivia up. If I’d somehow dreamt that I’d married the perfect girl. If I was back to my life of random women and faceless one night stands. Otherwise, my life was about to become a nightmare. My eyes find the platinum ring on my left finger and I fight down the bile rising up my throat. How could I have done this? “I—married.” I shake my head. “No. No no no.”

  “Relax, deep breaths.”

  “DEEP BREATHS?!” I roar, and immediately regret it when it feels like my head explodes.

  “Bennett—”

  “Don’t say my name. I don’t know you. You don’t know me,” I growl as I pull my briefs and my jeans up over my pelvis.

  “Well…we sort of do in the biblical sense.” She giggles and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard.

  “I didn’t fuck you,” I snarl. “I would never cheat on my wife,” I tell her as I pull on my t-shirt and leather jacket.

  “Yes, you said that quite a few times last night.” I don’t miss the roll of her eyes that makes me want to scream, you don’t know me. You don’t know how much I love my wife. I’d never do this. I would never hurt Olivia.

  “And your response to that was to take me home?!” I grab my phone and my heart sinks when I don’t see anything from Olivia. She didn’t even care that I didn’t come home.

  “You kissed me.” She bites her bottom lip. “You said…you said you were broken.”

  “What?”

  “That you wanted to feel something. So you knew you weren’t dead inside.”

  I shake my head. “I wouldn’t cheat on my wife to fucking feel something. Screw you.”

  Her eyes well up with tears and she takes a step back. “Stop yelling at me.”

  “I…why did you let things go this far? Clearly you were more sober than I was if you can remember all of this.”

  “I was pretty drunk. I just didn’t black out. And I’m sorry that I didn’t do more to protect your marriage,” she snaps as she shoots daggers out of her eyes.

  “Fuck. I’m going to be sick.” I rub my forehead. “She’s never going to forgive me.”

  “Livi?”

  My eyes snap up to hers and I stalk towards her, backing her into a corner of her room. “Don’t you ever fucking say her name. How…how do you even know her name?”

  “You…” she clears her throat, “you called her name when you…umm…came.”

  I take a step back. “What?”

  “Yeah…it…wasn’t my finest sexual moment.” She shrugs sadly.

  “Jesus. I have to go.” I shake my head. “Look…” I point at her in question and she crosses her arms and shakes her head.

  “Amanda.”

  “Amanda, this never happened.”

  “If that helps you sleep at night.”

  I press a hand to the mirror, trying my best to get air into my lungs slowly.

  Inhale.

  Count to ten.

  Exhale.

  I’d only cried a handful of times in my life. Losing my father, losing our babies, losing Olivia. All of it was associated with loss. But this is the first time I feel the tears building over something different.

  Regaining my memories.

  Memories I wanted to forget forever.

  “Clarke?” I hear her voice through the door, soft and sensual and calling out to every part of me. I wipe my face and clear my throat.

  I’m still madly in love with the woman on the other side of the door. I never stopped loving her. I never stopped wanting her. Losing my memory had granted us a second chance. Now that I have it back, now what?

  No.

  I’m not giving up our second chance.

  I need to be certain that we can survive the truth.

  “I’ll be out in a minute, baby,” I tell her as I turn on the water and splash it on my face. I cup my hands under the faucet and bring the water to my mouth to swish out the horrible taste of my memories. I open the medicine cabinet, looking for the Advil and take two before running a hand through my hair.

  When I open the door she’s staring up at me the same way she used to, full of love and devotion and loyalty.

  “Are you okay?” She puts her hand on my face and gives me a smile. “Come back to bed.”

  I pick her up in my arms before she can take another step. She squeals as I carry her back to bed, depositing her on the plush bedding and hovering over her naked frame.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I whisper as I stare down at her before peppering kisses across her stomach.

  “Missed me? You were only gone a few minutes.” She giggles as she rubs a hand through my hair.

  Get it the fuck together, Bennett.

  “I hate being away from you at all. Ever,” I tell her. “Promise me, we’re done being apart.” I part her legs and kiss her inner thigh, just shy of her mound. “I can’t take being away from you.”

  “I hated it too, Clarke.” She rubs her hand over my face and pulls my jaw up to look at her. “Every second we were apart felt like an eternity,” she whispers. I had fully planned on fucking her with my tongue, but I want to know more. I want to hear how much she missed me while we were apart now that I remember everything.

  I have to know if she thought about me.

  “Olivia.”

  “Clarke.”

  I pull away from that delicious space between her legs and I pull her into my lap. She wraps her legs around my waist making my cock jump between us as it’s dying to get inside of her. “Did you think about me when we were apart?”

  “Yes,” she responds, her eyes staring into mine. I look away in fear that Olivia could see everything I’m trying to hide from her. She runs her hands up my body and cups my face making me look at her. I smile, thinking about how I thought about her every day.

  Multiple times a day.

  How there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. How Wren had to come check in every few days to make sure I had eaten and showered.

  There were days I hadn’t done either.

  “Did you miss me?” My mouth feels dry and it makes my voice hoarse.

  “Yes,” she whispers and I want to kick myself for making Olivia open up and be vulnerable with me while I’m not being honest with her.

  “I’m sure I missed you,” I tell her. “I misse
d you so fucking much.”

  She smiles, the tears forming in her eyes and sliding slowly down her cheeks. “I know.” She rubs her nose against mine. “What’s with all this heavy? I thought you were going to make love to me?”

  “Nice place.”

  I watch as Olivia Warren walks around my apartment, her fingers touching everything and leaving her scent everywhere. Tonight, was our third date and despite the handsy makeout session we had on our first date…and second date, we hadn’t gone much further. But the way I’m feeling, I’m ready to take things all the way tonight if she’s ready. My eyes follow her around, like if I take them off of her, she might disappear. She’s wearing a black dress that comes to just below her knees with heels that make her legs go on for miles. Even with the shoes, she only comes up to my shoulders and I love how short and petite she is. I run my gaze up her legs, wondering how they’d feel wrapped around my waist as I slipped in the space between them.

  “I like it.” I smile as she takes a sip of the red wine I’d poured her. She sets her glass on the coffee table before taking a seat on my couch, sliding her heels off and putting her feet under her behind.

  Shoes off. Good sign.

  I move towards the couch and sit next to her, pulling her feet into my lap and rubbing her soles. I note the white polish on her toes and press a kiss to the top of them.

  “You have some sort of kinky foot fetish, Clarke?” She pulls her hair over one shoulder and twirls her fingers through it. I smile, because I think it means she’s flirting with me.

  Remembering her question, I shake my head. “I think I have an Olivia Warren fetish.”

  She cocks her head to the side. “You must say that to all the women.”

  “No,” I tell her honestly. “Just you.” I raise an eyebrow at her and she raises one back.

  She studies me, her eyes looking all over me before she speaks again. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything. I’m an open book.” And that’s true. I’ve never been as open and honest this early with someone as I’ve been with Olivia. I’ve told her about my childhood, my adolescence, my rocky relationship with my mother. All of it. We’ve exchanged war stories on our second date, and although she doesn’t have much, I had told her about the only woman I’d dated seriously.

  “Have you ever been with a black woman before?” she asks, and my eyes widen. I hadn’t anticipated that this was where this conversation was going when she sat on this couch. Quite frankly I figured she’d be sitting on my dick.

  “Why? Have you ever been with a white man before?” I ask her.

  “Maybe.” The thought makes me irate. Not that she’d been with a white man, but any man. It pisses me off that anyone has touched her before me. I suddenly feel the need to brand her so she knows…so everyone knows she’s fucking off limits from now on.

  “Ah, so I won’t be your first.” I shrug, like I’m not already planning out how I will also be her last.

  “I was just curious. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she says as she removes her feet from my hands and moves closer to me.

  I pull her hand into mine and run my lips over her knuckles gently. “You didn’t, but to your answer your question, no. I have not.” I shake my head.

  “My mother says that white men date black women to satisfy a deep rooted curiosity.” I don’t know her well enough to read the look she’s giving me, but I feel like she’s hiding a painful memory behind her eyes. Like someone had proven her mother correct.

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “I don’t know yet…” She narrows her eyes at me.

  “The guy you potentially dated before me…do you think he was curious?”

  “Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “And I don’t know…when you said you had an Olivia Warren fetish, it just reminded me of something he said.”

  “I meant because I’m into you, Olivia. I’m thirty-three years old, I’m far past curious. I’m looking for…more than a fuck. Or something to satisfy…some kind of experiment.”

  She nods. “You’re looking for the real thing.”

  “More or less.”

  “Someone who sets your soul on fire,” she adds. She’s not looking at me, she’s staring straight ahead, but her hands fidget in her lap.

  “What do you think that feels like?”

  She turns towards me. “I guess…I guess I’ll let you know when I know.”

  “I can tell you what it feels like,” I tell her, my eyes staring at her profile, my heart recognizing the other half of it in the nervous woman next to me.

  “Oh?” Her eyes shift towards mine and I can see the question in her eyes.

  Who me?

  I nod. “It’s what happens when you can see your whole future in someone’s eyes.”

  Her lips part and she runs her tongue along her bottom lip. “You…you’ve felt it?”

  “Feeling it.”

  “Present…tense?” I nod, just before my lips touch hers.

  “Fuck. Livi.” I press my hand into her hair as she continues to move up and down on my cock, her lips and tongue wrapped around me so snug, I’m ready to explode down her throat. Her eyes look up at me through her thick full lashes as she pushes my dick to the back of her throat. Her eyes water and the tears start to move down her cheek as she gags slightly on the size of my cock. “Swallow, sweetheart.”

  She does on command, swallowing and forcing my cock down further and I swear for a minute my entire body is paralyzed under her mouth. I push harder, cupping her face. “God, you’re fucking beautiful. So fucking beautiful. And mine. You want my cum in your mouth, don’t you?”

  She nods as she grips my thighs, pressing her nails into the skin as she continues to suck my cock. Spit trickles down my shaft and kisses the base as she pulls me out of her mouth, gripping the base and running her tongue up my length sinfully and giving me a wink before she circles the head. “Jesus, Livi. I’m going to come, put me back in your mouth.”

  “Beg for it,” she says, as she rubs my cock along her mouth, rubbing the precum on her swollen lips like it’s lipstick.

  I grab her head and our eyes lock. “I should be telling you to beg for it. You know you want it as bad as I want to give it to you. Don’t deny that you’re my little cum slut.” She whimpers and shuts her eyes as the filthy words I know she loves circle around her. “You’ve been addicted to my cock since the first time you sucked me, haven’t you?” I grip her jaw as I rub my dick against her tongue and she nods. Even though I’m seconds from blowing, I pull it back out.

  “You beg me for it.” She swallows slowly and digs her nails more into my thighs, causing my cock to twitch. Pre-cum is forming at the head and it feels like my dick is pulsing faster than my heart is racing. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

  “I want it,” she whispers. “Please.”

  “What was that?”

  “PLEASE!” She screams as she grips my cock, squeezing hard and just before she puts her mouth back on me, I stop her, putting my hand over her mouth and she looks up at me curiously.

  “Tell me you love me first.”

  I can’t see her mouth but I can see her eyes that tell me she’s smiling behind my hand. I pull it away from her mouth and sure enough, there’s one on her lips. “I love you, Clarke.”

  She doesn’t wait for my reply before her lips are wrapped around me again. I put my hands on either side of her head, pumping into her mouth so she kisses the base of my cock each time I thrust. I’m seconds from exploding when I feel a hand on my testicles. “Fuck, Olivia, I’m going to come.” I pull on her hair, tugging it gently as I erupt down her throat. “Fuck fuck fuuuuuuck.” I groan as she continues to worship my cock just as she always has. I don’t know how long I’m coming, but at some point, I soften and twitch in her mouth as she lets me fall from between her lips. I’m on her in an instant, pulling her up my body and pushing her deep into the blankets. My lips are on hers, tasting me on her tongue and it makes m
y dick pulse between us despite having just come. “I should have come in your pussy.” I growl as I bite down on her neck.

  “There will be plenty of time for that.” She smiles as she pushes me onto my back and snuggles into my side. “Can we go back to my apartment tonight?”

  “Not feeling it here?”

  “Well…none of my stuff is here.” She sits up and runs a hand through her hair. “I need to do something about this,” she says pointing at her hair that looks a little bigger than usual.

  “You look beautiful and just fucked.” I smirk.

  She blinks her eyes at me several times and I chuckle at my wife’s very regimented hair care routine. “You were married to me for seven years, and you don’t have silk pillowcases?” She points at the head of my bed. “And how do you expect me to shower here without shower caps? Hello?” I chuckle at her rant. “I don’t even want to know what kind of hair products you might have in there.” She gets up and makes her way over to my closet.

  “I didn’t want to use anything that smelled like you,” I tell her, and I immediately curse myself for saying something that would tell her what I’ve been feeling the last six months. “I mean I guess,” I correct.

  She comes out of my closet and I breathe a sigh of relief that maybe she didn’t hear me. I note she’s wearing one of my button ups covering her gorgeous body and I frown. “Not that it doesn’t turn me the fuck on seeing you in my clothes, but why are you getting dressed? I’ll be ready to fuck you again in ten minutes.”

  “Because I’m starving and I was going to see what you had…while I waited for you to be ready to go again.” She smirks as she makes her way out of the room. I’m pulling on my briefs just as my doorbell rings. I frown, wondering who it could be as I make my way into the living room behind her. Olivia looks at me and I shrug, just as confused at who would be at my apartment before 9 AM when I haven’t even been staying here. I look into the peephole and my blood runs cold at who my visitor is and look down at Olivia who’s looking up at me in question.