Make Me Forget

by Anna Brooks

  “I need some time and some understanding. I want you to touch me, but it has to be slow. I don’t know how far I can go–”

  “I’d never make you do something you’re not ready for. That’s not the only reason I want to be with you.” He pulls me to him and throws his arms around my shoulders, making me feel safe. I wrap mine around his neck and bury my head in his chest. “I can give you time and understanding, as long as you know I’ll be here for you, and I want… no, I need you to talk to me. I have so many ideas swirling in my head right now, and they’re making me crazy. I need honesty, sweetheart. That’s all.”

  “After my dad died, I… it’s not pretty. And I’ll tell you, but not now. Not yet. Let’s forget about all the crappy stuff for a little while, please,” I beg.

  Even though I can see the disappointment on his face, he tries to hide it, and smiles a dimpleless smile.

  After our talk last night, we made banana splits and watched meaningless television, then fell asleep on the couch together.

  “Hey, you, wake up.” I hear his voice before I feel his hands rubbing my back. Squinting my eyes, I groan as the light hits them and roll over to my back.

  “It’s almost ten, and I’ve got a big day planned.”

  This statement has my eyes shooting open. “You do?”

  “Yeah. Now come on, breakfast is ready.”

  “What’d you make?” I ask excitedly.

  “Turkey bacon and an egg white omelet. Gotta watch my figure,” he replies rubbing his stomach that I know is hard as a rock and has a happy trail leading down past his jeans.

  “’Kay. Give me a minute.” I throw the blanket off and drag my feet to the bathroom. I’m not really a morning person, so I take my time brushing my teeth, eyes slowly closing as each second passes.

  “I bet if I told you it was French toast you wouldn’t be falling asleep brushing your teeth,” he teases, leaning on the bathroom door.

  “This is a true story,” I mumble around my mouthful of toothpaste.

  He laughs and squeezes my butt as he walks away. The familiar gesture doesn’t freak me out, and I give myself a gold star for the small step.

  When I walk in the kitchen, he has two plates of crunchy French toast and not turkey bacon set out, with a couple glasses of orange juice.

  “You’re the best!” I laugh and give him a loud kiss. I should have known, no way would he ever eat turkey bacon. We sit opposite each other like the other day. I shovel my food into my mouth, savoring the crispy/gooey combination.

  “Char, fucking stop that!” Travis’ voice makes me pause, fork halfway to my mouth.

  “Huh?”

  “Your groaning and shit. As sexy as you look shoving that in your mouth, the damn noises coming from it are… just stop, okay?” He’s pleading, and I see him reach down and shift his legs.

  “Ooh.” I slowly and quietly eat the last couple of bites.

  “Anyways.” He stands and grabs my empty plate, setting it in the sink. “I thought we’d go do something we always wanted to do but never got around to. Now, I know it’s ‘cause someone would have needed parental consent.” He’s teasing, I know, because of the dimple, but I suck in a breath as my stomach turns.

  “Shit. I didn’t mean anything, I was joking.” He comes over and tilts my head up. “I’m sorry. It’s too soon, huh?”

  Not able to speak because I feel like I’m gonna puke, I nod. The movement makes my stomach retch, and I push him out of the way, running to the bathroom. I don’t shut the door behind me because I don’t have time before I find myself hugging the porcelain.

  I reach up and flush; the act makes stupid memories come to the surface. How I’d puke when Todd left after he hit me, how I lied to Travis. He’s right, too. We talked about going parasailing, but since I did it the summer before, I knew you had to be eighteen or have parental consent. So, when he really tried to get us to go, I came up with some lame-ass excuse, and we ended up going go-karting. Another lie, when all he ever asked for was honesty.

  What a fucking mess I am. When I feel him pull my hair back, I push his hands away. Angry at myself for so many things, I want to be alone. I’m used to being alone. I’m better alone. All those happy feelings I was having earlier are nothing but a bunch of shit.

  “Go away,” I beg.

  “No.”

  “Travis, leave me the hell alone.”

  “No. You’re not alone anymore, sweetheart, and if you think I’m going away that easily, you really don’t know me.”

  “I don’t fucking know you! We spent a few weeks together years ago. Now, leave me the hell alone!” I scream and push him.

  The shock from my statement allows me to actually move him. I can’t look at his face right now. I slam the bathroom door shut, brush my teeth, and rinse my mouth out with mouthwash.

  When I look at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but be angry. No, angry isn’t the right word. Enraged is better. I become blurry in the mirror as my eyes water. Dammit. I hate crying. I never used to cry. I was the strong one. I was the rock. I took care of everything. I didn’t cry. Crying shows weakness, and I’m not weak, dammit!

  I pound the mirror, glass shattering under my hands as I hit it over and over again. Every time I feel glass stab me, the pain from my memories fades away. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I pound until I feel arms wrap around me. Even if he weren’t here earlier, I’d recognize his scent and the way he feels any day. I let the emotions I’ve been holding in take over, and I sob. My body heaves and shakes as I let the man I lied to, the man I don’t deserve, hold and comfort me.

  He says soothing words and runs his hands through my hair and down my back. Eventually, I calm down, and my sobbing turns to silent tears rolling out of my eyes. I watch as they land on the floor, mixing with the blood dripping from my hands.

  “I need to look at your hands,” he says, quietly, but I can hear the anger laced in.

  I lift them up and am shocked at the amount of blood.

  “Come on.”

  I notice the bathroom door hanging off the hinges. He broke down the door. I follow him to the kitchen where he takes all the dirty dishes out of the sink. He lifts my listless body up on the counter, since I’m too weak to stand, and starts rinsing my arms. When the cool water hits my hands, I wince and try to pull away. He pulls them back and continues gently washing. I finally look at his face, and I see his jaw ticking, his breaths coming out in short, fast bursts through his nose.

  “Travis–”

  “No. Don’t. Just, don’t,” he clips.

  Nodding, I let him continue. I deserve his anger.

  “Where’s your first aid kit?”

  “Bathroom cabinet.”

  He returns and pokes and prods a few minutes longer, removing some small pieces of glass before applying ointment and wrapping them.

  Then he walks out.

  ***

  I’m sitting on my patio wrapped in a blanket watching the sunset when there’s a knock at my door. I ignore it and take another drink out of the almost empty wine bottle. When the knocking continues, I begrudgingly stumble to the door. Peeking through the hole, I see my cousin on the other side. I pull it open and walk back to the patio where I grab my bottle and cuddle back up with the blanket.

  “What the hell happened today?” Pierce looks at my hands then back at me, then over to the hallway where you can see the bathroom door hanging.

  “Nothing.”

  “I can’t even remember the last time I saw him that mad. Oh, wait, yes I can. It’s when Johnny talked about you riding him with your cowboy boots on!”

  That makes me sit up and pay attention. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Pierce’s anger is not lost on me.“That night he beat the shit out of Johnny was about you. He was saying stupid shit. If I’d heard it, and Trav didn’t do it, I would have gladly introduced my fist to Johnny’s face. Travis has a fucking temper, Char. It’s hard to know because of how chill he is, but I see i
t, I see the fighter in him. He does a good-ass job keeping it in check, and the only two times I’ve seen him lose his shit, and not just throw a few punches, has been over you. So again, what the hell happened?”

  Slamming the rest of the bottle, I rehash the story for Pierce. “After he wrapped my hands, he left.”

  “Ahh, I see. You hurt him and yourself.” He picks up my hands and examines the bandages.

  “No. Well, probably, but not intentionally. I don’t mean to keep hurting him.” My voice trails off, and I wonder what the hell I’m even doing here. All I do is hurt the one person who heals me.

  “No. Quit with those damn thoughts. You’re not bad for him, or whatever the hell it is you’re thinking.” He smirks because he knows he’s right. “Talk to him, Char. Obviously, shit has changed. We used to be close as hell, but when your mom got sick, you fell off the planet. We all tried to be there for you. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I know. It was my fault. I didn’t want sympathy, and I knew that’s what I’d get from you guys.”

  “Hell yes, you would have.” He sounds offended, as if the thought makes him mad. “We’re your family, Charlotte, that’s what we do. You also would have gotten our support, our love, and our help.”

  “I know that now, but hindsight is twenty/twenty. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. You’re back now.”

  A couple minutes of silence fill the room before I break it.

  “How is he?”

  I know before he speaks, by the frown on his face, it’s not good. “He’s in a bad way.”

  “I need to see him, but I don’t even know where he lives anymore.”

  “I’d give him the night.” He gives me a kiss on the head and begins to walk through the patio door. “Oh, and Char? He never moved. Told me one night he always wanted you to be able to find him.”

  13

  Travis

  “I don’t fucking know you! We spent a few weeks together years ago! Now leave me the hell alone!”

  Those words tear through not only my heart, but my fucking soul, too. I should have known. I thought things were different. I guess all the shit she said in the past is nothing but lies. Like her. She’s a fucking liar. I’m so surprised at her rant, her skinny little ass manages to push me out the door. As I’m about to leave, I hear glass breaking and her voice with so much pain and frustration weaved in it, it makes my heart break a little more. I want to help her, but I know I can’t unless she wants me to.

  She has the bathroom door locked and won’t open it, so I do the only thing I can; I break it down. Blood drips from her hands; glass covers the floor and sink. My throat tightens when I grab her, and she lets out the most earth-shattering cry, sobbing in my arms. I try to soothe her by rubbing her back and rocking her in my arms. I might be mad at her words, but I don’t want to see her hurting.

  I carry her to the sink to clean her up, cognizant that she doesn’t want me. I set her tiny frame on the counter, not able to look at her face. Her cuts are all superficial, and I don’t see any glass stuck. When I finish cleaning her wounds and wrapping her hands, I leave, unable to stay where I’m not wanted. The only place I want to be.

  I head straight for the gym and run twelve miles on the treadmill. When I can barely feel my legs anymore, I head to the bags. It does nothing but succeed in tiring out my body. My mind is still in overdrive. I can’t figure her out. I thought everything would be fine. I mean, shit, how can you feel so strongly for someone and have those feelings disappear? I thought she still felt the same way. Hell, she probably never did. Fuck!

  As I’m walking back to my car, I run into Pierce.

  “Dude, what the fuck?”

  “Not now, Pierce.”

  The gym door crashes as I shove it open. Slamming my car into drive, I peel out and use all the horsepower in my Camaro.

  Once home, I crack a beer and slam it before I even get to the shower. I have the occasional beer or two at home or at the pub sometimes, nothing more. Technically, I shouldn’t, but I have control of it now.

  I stand under the spray and take a huge breath when I realize I’m done with Char. I can’t keep being the one to pursue her. She didn’t tell me she was back for a reason. I’ve been pushing too hard too fast for this delusional happily ever after we’re supposed to get. The one that’s apparently not happening.

  Without bothering to dry off, I throw on a pair of track pants and grab a few more beers, hoping they make me numb like the whiskey used to. By the time I’m on my fifth one, I hear the door knob turn and kick myself in the ass for giving Pierce a key.

  “What the hell is your problem? I’ve been trying to call.” Not one for small talk, he gets right to the point.

  “Obviously, I didn’t want to talk to you.”

  “Dude, what’s up?”

  “Nothing.” I finish another beer and crush the can, then open another.

  “Yeah, okay.” He plops down and opens a beer, then spits it out all over my coffee table. “This tastes like piss.”

  “It’s been sitting there for a few hours, dumbass.”

  He grabs a couple cold ones from the fridge and throws one at me as he sits down on the coffee table in front of me.

  “Your fucking cousin is a real bitch.”

  “Not cool, man,” he says poking me in the chest, always the defender.

  “She is.” I grab his hand and twist it off. “But I fucking love her.” Dropping his hand, I pick up my beer and throw it across the room. “Fuck!” I grab another unopened beer and do the same thing. It breaks open and foam squirts everywhere. When I reach for a third, Pierce grabs my arm.

  “Enough!”

  “Fuck you.” I punch him in the ribs and hold my arms out. “Hit me. Please, for the love of God, fucking hit me!” I want to feel something else right now.

  “I’m not hitting you, asshole. You need to get your shit together. I came to help you, but if you’re gonna act like a dick, you can go fuck yourself.” He pushes past me, obviously being the bigger man, and slams the door on his way out.

  Jesus, I’m a bastard. This girl has me fucking twisted. I’m serious, though, I’m done. If she wants more, wants me, she has to be the one to make a move. I’m still here. In the same place she left me four years ago.

  Charlotte

  “What’s going on?” Dr. Reynolds asks, wrinkles in her forehead. I skipped my last two sessions and was late today. After the incident with Travis, I locked myself in my apartment for two weeks. I’ve barely eaten, and know I look a wreck.

  “I messed up.”

  “Okay. Care to elaborate?”

  “See, there’s this guy. I met him when I was seventeen; he’s a few years older than me.” I twist my hair in my fingers, trying to work out some of the nerves. “Anyway, the last summer before my dad died, we were visiting, and that’s when I met him. To make a long story short, I lied to him about my age and ended up sleeping with him. He took my virginity thinking I was older.” I never told her about him before this point. I know her job is to be objective, but I don’t want her judging me any more than she already is.

  I stand to get a better view of the city out of the big picture window. “I’m not a romantic. I don’t believe in fairy tales. But this guy… we’re supposed to be together.” I angle my neck to watch a bird fly away. “The thought, the hope, that we still had a future together, is what got me through everything. Todd was a distraction that I let go too far.”

  She starts to talk, but I cut her off. “Let me get this out, please.”

  “Of course, continue.”

  “I won’t bore you with the details, but we kind of got back together. Not sexually. I’m not ready for that.” Sighing, I wring my fingers together. I want to be ready, but I’m too scared.

  “Every time I’m with him it’s like I have split personality disorder. One minute he makes me happy, the next I’m scared shitless. I said some really hurtful things a couple weeks ago after I
had a breakdown, and he hasn’t called me since.”

  “What made you have a breakdown?”

  “He joked about me lying about my age. The guilt made me sick, and when I was puking in the toilet, it reminded me of Todd.” I turn and look into her eyes, begging for an answer. “Is everything going to remind me of that asshole?”

  “No, it’s not. You may have triggers, but you're a very strong woman, Charlotte. Now, you said when you’re with him, you’re scared sometimes. What about him scares you? Are you afraid your relationship will end up similar to the one you had with Todd?”

  “No. God, no. Nothing like that. He’d never hurt me. I’m so afraid to lose him. I’m afraid that once he finds out the ugly reality that is my past, he’ll want nothing to do with me anymore.”

  “How will you know if you never give him a chance?”

  Dr. Reynolds doesn’t justify my behavior. She gives it to me straight, which is one of the reasons I like her so much. She’s right; I need to tell Travis. If I want to have any type of relationship with him, I need to be honest.

  ***

  It’s been almost four weeks since my incident with Travis. I’ve been doubling my therapy sessions and made a lot of peace with my past. I know I’ll never be over it, but I woke up three days ago with a sense of clarity that I haven’t felt for at least four years.

  Dr. Reynolds said I had my ‘firework moment’, sparks lit, then faded away into nothing but memories. That’s what Todd is – a memory. I’m done with letting him ruin my life. It’s time to move on. The first thing I need to do is make things right with Travis. He hasn’t called, and the thought of him giving up on us tears me apart. I need to talk to him in person. He has to know everything.

  I ran into Pierce earlier today at the gym, and he told me it’s Travis’ weekend off, so I know I should be able to catch him at his apartment. After working out for a bit, I head home and take an exceptionally long bubble bath. I order Chinese for myself and eat while putting my clothes on. I dress simple; a pair of black leggings and a sheer grey top with a black cami underneath. My hair is down, and I put some loose flowing waves in it with the curling iron. I drive to his place nervously tapping my leg.