Aurora

by Emma L. McGeown

  “Do I have a boyfriend?” She perked up, pulling me back into the room again. “Cat said that me and Tom are no longer together and haven’t been for years, but is there anyone else?”

  “Uh…”

  “Do I date? At all? I must date sometimes. Please tell me I haven’t turned into some kind of loser hermit?” Her voice turned high-pitched in panic.

  “Of course you date. You’ve dated. You date all the time.” Her eyes widened in surprise, causing me to dial it back. “You date like a normal, regular amount. You don’t have Tinder or anything but—”

  “What’s Tinder?” She tilted her head.

  “It’s an app on your phone.”

  “For dating?”

  “Yeah, I think it’s used for dating or more like casual hookups,” I babbled. “Not that there is anything wrong with one-night stands. It’s just I don’t think you really do…” Feeling as though I was digging a hole filled with lies and indirectly causing Elena to question herself, I curbed the direction of the conversation. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, you’re not a hermit. You date, yes, just not right now.”

  She seemed to accept my ramblings, and I gave a small exhale of relief. The light at the end of the tunnel.

  “Okay, good.”

  “Good?” I asked, perplexed.

  “Well, yeah. Imagine if I had been dating someone, and then I wake up and literally don’t even know who they are. How awkward would that be?”

  “Totally,” I mumbled polishing off the remainder of the glass.

  Chapter Five

  I jolted upright in bed, clutching my rapidly heaving chest. After a fumble in the dark, I reached for the bedside lamp and was a little shaken when I realised I wasn’t in my familiar, yet depressing, hospital room but in my unfamiliar, but actually very real, bedroom.

  I couldn’t exactly recall the nightmare that had me in such a state, but it felt like one of those dreams where I was falling from a building and had hit the ground with a bang. This dream wasn’t uncommon for me these last few weeks, although I foolishly thought that once I was released from hospital, perhaps the dreams would stop.

  My gaze travelled around the bedroom as I took a minute to try to remember it. Last night, my head had been a little too fuzzy from the wine and too comatose from the mountain-sized pizza to really take it in. I’d simply crawled into bed, barely shedding my clothes, and had fallen asleep the second my head touched the pillow.

  My old bedroom at Cat’s place, when we used to live together, had been completely different. I had a collection of mix-matched, second-hand furniture, with an entire wall plastered with pictures. Looking back, it had been a collage of my youth, with photographs from college, old school friends, and family vacations in Italy. That room had been an extension of who I was, like a hall of fame of my adventures, but here…

  The furnishings were finished in a dark chocolate wood and felt as smooth as caramel to the touch, not like the IKEA classic I was accustomed to. Other than that, the room stood relatively bare. The only things cluttered on the dresser were some makeup and lotions. Two lonely photographs sat on the dresser too, one of which was me and Cat, which looked as though it had been taken recently, and the other was of me on my graduation. Where were the rest of my memories?

  The bed sheets were crisp, soft, and expensive. A beige theme was noticeable throughout the room. Unrevealing, just like the rest of the apartment. Last night, after Jax had driven me home, I’d walked through, hoping it would jog some morsel of a memory, but nothing. No memories. It was as if I was stepping foot inside it for the first time. And now, being in my bed felt bare. The bed sat intimidatingly large in the centre of the room, resembling a king-sized bed in a posh hotel.

  The apartment slept soundly. I could tell by the stillness on the other side of the bedroom door. I pulled myself from the warmth of the sheets and spotted the alarm clock, revealing it was only 7:15 a.m. The autumn mornings ensured that even the sun got a longer lie-in than me. In the hospital, the nurses would begin rounds at this time, making it impossible to consider a lazy snooze. The bedroom felt cold, prompting me to snatch the dressing gown from the back of the door and shuffle into a pair of fuzzy, well-worn, and perfectly fitting slippers.

  Before leaving the bedroom, I decided to check myself over in the floor-length mirror, the first chance I’d had to do so since the accident. As I studied my frame, I realised that, in this light, I had nowhere to hide.

  The bruising along my jaw and cheek had started turning an unflattering yellow, but as Jax reassured, it meant the injury was healing. With a good foundation, I could easily hide it, and thankfully, with no man in my life, I could safely hide the nasty bruises still lingering on my hip and thigh. A jumper would be necessary to hide the six inches of stitching on my bicep, but thankfully, it wasn’t summer anymore. I pulled my hair back to reveal the bald patch and stitches from surgery. No date in the schedule to get them removed just yet.

  Aside from the injuries I was still tallying up, there were clear and indisputable signs of aging. The few wisps of grey hair would need a trip to the salon, and for the beginning stages of aging on my forehead, there was always Botox, I teased myself. I reached to the hem of my tank top and pulled it up to inspect my tummy, which was, surprisingly, sporting several stretch marks that were becoming more visible as the bruises faded. I had never had a weight problem, but I must have had at some point in the last eight years.

  I made my way into the living room, which was spacious and warm, with splashes of navy, grey, and a mustard theme running throughout the living room and dining area. The apartment tour last night didn’t include Jamie’s or Jax’s bedrooms, and I was oddly curious about Jax’s sleeping quarters. The decor of her apartment seemed very clean, polished, and modern but didn’t appear to have many personal touches. It made sense, considering she leased out her spare room.

  The thought had never occurred to me to ask who owned the apartment. I just assumed I was a tenant, considering she had a child. Besides, I couldn’t imagine ever owning, or more importantly affording, a place of my own in London. A three-bedroom apartment must have cost a small fortune, and although Jax was a doctor, she obviously couldn’t afford it by herself. But then again, could I really afford to rent in this location in my line of work? Did I even have a line of work?

  “Morning.”

  I jumped. Jax supressed a smirk from her position against the kitchen door frame. Her hair was a little wild, and she sported slouchy jogging bottoms with a dark capped T-shirt revealing several tattoos on her biceps. Strangely, I found myself caught in a gaze as her eyes playfully danced around the kitchen countertops.

  “I see you found everything okay.” She glanced to the bowl in my hands.

  It was then that I noticed I was in the middle of preparing pancake batter. I had somehow managed to find the ingredients and equipment for making breakfast without even thinking.

  “Weird.”

  “What is?” she asked as she moved farther into the kitchen and pulled a carton of juice from the fridge.

  “I didn’t have to think twice looking for all of this.” I motioned to the messy kitchen countertops. “Which I will clean, of course, but it’s like my hands just knew where to find everything. And pancakes? I never make pancakes.” I trailed off as I finished the last of the stirring and began to heat the pan for frying. “I just have a craving.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” she replied. “The mind works mysteriously and is essentially powered by habit. Plus, pancakes are Jamie’s favourite. You make them most Saturdays for him.” Her eyes lingered on mine for a moment, and I felt myself being pulled in like a magnet. Jax broke her gaze first as I busied myself with pouring the mixture into the pan. “Speaking of which, he’s usually up by now. I rarely get a lie-in.”

  “Would we class before eight a.m. as a lie-in?” I teased.

  “It is for a five-year-old. Well, he won’t be five for much longer.”

  “When’s his b
irthday?”

  “First of November.”

  “Just after Halloween? That’s rough.”

  “Tell me about it. Sweets, cake, and chocolate for days.” She pinched the bridge of her nose as she began to make coffee. “Last year, he puked all weekend. I could have killed your sister for letting him have two slices of cake.”

  “Do you and Cat see each other a lot?” I asked, feeling increasingly curious about their seemingly close relationship.

  They mentioned each other a lot, and it was strange. Maybe it was just a mum thing that I wouldn’t get. They both had kids around the same age, but they seemed super close.

  “Ye…ah,” she stuttered nervously. “Cat watches Jamie sometimes, and the girls are here all the time.” She trailed off before adding, “To visit you, mainly. Because you’re their aunt, right?” she clarified bizarrely as she handed me a cup of coffee.

  Nervous energy from Jax was equal parts strange, considering she seemed like a fairly confident and assured person, and kind of cute. Her brow creased, hands couldn’t still, and a subtle blush appeared on her cheeks. I took the cup, grateful for the distraction, and couldn’t help but notice how soft her hand was for the brief moment we touched. She moved to the breakfast bar to take a seat, leaving me wondering if I had even asked for this coffee or had she even offered? It was just like second nature for her to make me a cup with extra milk, exactly how I liked it.

  “Watch they don’t burn,” Jax said, motioning to the pancakes as she caught me staring into space. I quickly flipped the pancake, only to reveal that my absentmindedness had caused the damn thing to burn.

  “And so, how’d we meet?” I tried to change the subject but was met by a soft thud from somewhere else in the apartment. Our eyes sprang to meet each other as little pitter patters could be heard.

  “That’ll be the prince.” Jax hummed as she went back to her coffee and flipped through the old magazine on the bar.

  “Prince?”

  “That’s what you call him. He gets whatever he wants.” She rolled her eyes as the little boy came dashing out of his bedroom.

  “Mum,” he shouted.

  “Jamie, there’s no need for all that shouting.” She hushed as she lifted him onto her lap, allowing him to see over the breakfast bar.

  He smiled mischievously at me as Jax’s eyes found mine, and she planted a soft kiss to his head. Oddly, I felt a warmth spread across my chest, a feeling which caused the corners of my lips to melt.

  “Only little boys who use an inside voice get pancakes.” I threw a wink at Jax. “You want to help me flip this one?” I didn’t need the response as he practically jumped from Jax’s arms, eager to help.

  We were just finished with breakfast when Jamie perked up out of nowhere. He had been eating pancakes, chatting about his school friends, but the conversation had quieted down until his next question.

  “Can I have another, Mummy?” I looked up and was surprised to see he was staring at me. “Mum?” He turned to Jax, who was seated beside me at the circular dining table.

  “Sure,” Jax replied in a voice almost two octaves higher than I’d ever heard before. Normally, her voice was deep and almost raspy. It was one of the first things I’d noticed about her, but now it sounded like a teenage boy.

  “So what are your plans for today?” She changed the topic at lightning speed as she fetched Jamie another pancake from the pan, and I followed her into the kitchen, clearing some of the plates from the table.

  “I was supposed to see Cat, but she texted earlier to say she needs to reschedule. Something about the girls’ recital.”

  “Ha. Say no more. Ballet is something Abbey takes very seriously. Well, I was going to take Jamie to Camden Market and the park if you’d like to join us,” she said almost nervously while she looked at the stove, avoiding my gaze. “Jay loves the market and watching the boats. Don’t feel like you have to.”

  “I’d like to go.” I cut off her mumbling, causing her to stop and meet my eyes. “Really, that sounds great.” I turned toward the sink to wash up, shielding myself from the unbreakable trance she had on me.

  “No way,” she said. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

  “I don’t mind.” I tried to argue until her hand engulfed mine. The contact felt like an electric shock.

  “Listen, I didn’t want to do this but I am much stronger than you. I will overpower you if you argue, and let’s be honest, you’re missing half a brain. I think you’ve suffered enough.” She spun me on the spot, hands falling to my waist before nudging me forward, sending my body tingling from the contact, and out of the kitchen. “I’ll clean up and get Jamie ready, and then we can go.” I headed to my bedroom, smiling the entire way, until her voice stopped me. “And Elena.” I turned as she smiled genuinely at me. “Thank you for breakfast.” My eyes were trained on hers for a moment before I escaped behind the bedroom door.

  * * *

  Jax

  For the first time in weeks, it felt like she was back. I hadn’t seen a bigger smile on Jamie’s face since the accident as he grabbed Elena’s hand and led her through Camden Market as if she hadn’t visited the market a hundred times before. Elena threw me glimpses where I had to pinch myself, reminding me that she was different from the woman I married. For someone who couldn’t quite remember, she fell in so naturally with our family.

  “Mum, look at me,” Jamie yelled at the top of his lungs from the largest slide in the park.

  “I see you.” I waved with a mumble under my breath. “For the eighth time.”

  Elena chuckled at my comment as she drew the hot coffee to her lips, and we watched Jamie play. We were seated at a nearby bench as the cold damp air settled around us. Winter had come early this year, leaves continuing to fall from the trees with each light breeze.

  “He’s sweet.” She smiled, letting out puffs of warm breath while snuggling under her scarf.

  “He’s a pain,” I said as I stole a glance or two at her. “But he’s my pain.”

  It was rare we both got a weekend entirely off. Either Elena was working or I was on call at weekends. It was sad really. But seeing her now was like meeting her all over again and acted like a bit of a silver lining. Elena not working herself into the ground was a freer and happier woman. Working less agreed with her and us, if there still was an us.

  “What did you think of Camden Market?” I asked.

  “It never really changes, does it? Not even in eight years,” she mused. “It was nice going with Jamie, though, felt like going for the first time again.” He waved before running around to climb the slide steps again. “Does that sound weird? I’ve been there countless times, but today was one of my favourites.”

  “No, not at all. I feel that way all the time with him. Children have a way of bringing out our inner child and making us see things for the first time all over again.” I shrugged but turned to look at Elena in time to see something in her eyes. I might have missed it if I hadn’t caught her off guard. She had a special glint in her eyes, one I liked to tell myself was reserved for when I was being particularly thoughtful. “What?”

  She shook her head, supressing a smile. “Nothing.” I nudged her slightly, causing the smile to grow affectionately large. “It’s just…that was just very sweet. I never pegged you as the sweet type.”

  “What type am I?” I asked, perhaps flirted, as I turned to face her, moving closer. Her breathing turned uneven as her eyes darted to my lips.

  “I didn’t…I just…” She stuttered as she gulped audibly. “I just thought…”

  “Mum!” Jamie’s shouts pulled me from Elena as I waved at him again.

  A weird tension lingered between us with no one willing to speak up after the flirting. I was just about to change the topic, but it was Elena’s turn to catch me off guard.

  “Can I ask you something?” She watched me nervously, and I found myself incredibly intrigued. “Did I ever talk about anyone?”

  “You talk about a lot of
people,” I said, evoking a small smile. “Anyone in particular?”

  “About Tom?” she blurted quietly.

  I swallowed the bad taste in my mouth before answering. “Your ex-boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. So…” A silence fell between us as she sipped her brew.

  “Was there something you wanted to know?”

  “No.” She shook her head frantically before biting her bottom lip. “Well, yeah, kind of.” She played with the rim of her cup before a small smile broke out across her face. “Have I…do I talk about ever…Do I ever talk to him?”

  “I’m not sure.” I managed to keep my face neutral as my chest started to tighten. “Why?”

  Her face continued to show this strange teenage puppy-love. “Well, I was thinking of calling him. I don’t know, just to catch up, maybe. I mean, he was my boyfriend. I loved him at one time. I’ll admit, I do feel some disconnection from him now, but maybe if I was to see him again. You know?” I nodded along and forced a smile to mirror her excited expression. “I have been thinking about him a lot lately and wondering what happened. Between us. We used to be so happy, and then it ended, and I’m not even sure why. Cat said we broke up years ago but…”

  “That was before your accident,” I whispered.

  “Right?” She smiled as if relieved that I was following her train of thought. “I’m so glad you get it. I’m different now, and maybe he is too. You know? Maybe he changed, and what broke us up doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe he misses me too.” I nodded as I tried to even out my breathing, but with every inhale, it felt like it was cutting my insides. “What do you think? Should I call him? I mean, you’re my friend. Do you think old me would think I was crazy for wanting to talk to him?” She looked at me as I thought for a long moment.

  I wanted to tell her everything. Scream that he wasn’t worth an ounce of her time. Tell her how many other women there had been for months while they had still been together, tell her every terrible thing he’d said to her after they’d broken up and when she’d found out she was pregnant. I wanted to tell her that letting him pull her in again would be the worst mistake. Hell, I wanted to kiss her. Spark something in her, remind her of who she was. But as I stared into her eyes, I realised something heartbreaking. I wasn’t her wife right now. I was her roommate, a friend, someone to confide in during this extremely turbulent and confusing time. With that in mind, I swallowed all the pain rising in my chest.