by Kim Black
“Did I say something wrong?”
She hadn’t. I knew she was truly concerned, given the severity of Emily’s condition after the accident, but I couldn’t help the aggravated tone in my voice. I wanted to forget Emily’s existence, to go back to the life I had before she turned everything upside down. On the other hand, had she turned everything right side up? I shook the thought from my head and poured myself another drink, also gulped it down in one long pull.
I turned to face a very confused Sylvie, and didn’t bother responding to her. Instead, I sauntered to my desk chair, turned it to face the spectacular view of Los Angeles behind my desk.
“Julien, what’s going on?” Sylvia pushed softly. I knew she could see my upset and her scrutiny caused me to sink deeper into the chair. No amount of alcohol had aided me during the last two days, but it was my only solace.
“Please, get me another drink,” I murmured. As I had done just a week ago over the phone with my brother, I silently wept. Sylvie stayed by my side, confused, but determined to stay by my side.
Chapter Seven
“The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.”
~ Gloria Steinem ~
EMILY
Adam told me everything; at least I hoped it was everything. He told me that he and I had broken up last year due to a misunderstanding. He said that he tried to get me to speak to him, but I had refused. When I asked him what the misunderstanding was, he grimaced uncomfortably. Instead of answering me outright, he asked me to speak to Diana, claiming that she would be best able to answer my questions.
It didn’t make any sense. What the fuck did Diana have to do with my relationship with Adam? I wanted to press him for more information, but decided against it since I was grateful that someone was finally telling me the truth. Since the time I awoke, I felt as if everyone was hiding something and now that I was getting pieces of my life back via Adam’s tales, I didn’t want to press my luck.
Apparently, I had quit my internship at Tajh and was currently interning at Farjo; which I couldn’t really say was a step down, since Farjo was one of the best restaurants in Los Angeles. Any aspiring chef would be lucky to be accepted into their program. Still, it was foreign to me. I couldn’t remember applying there, or what my days were like at work. Did I get along with my co-workers? I had no idea, and the more I thought about it, the more frustrating it all became.
When we arrived at my apartment, I sighed in relief that it was still the same. Aside from a few new items, the place was familiar and I desperately needed some sort of familiarity.
Suzie and Diana greeted us at the door and I couldn’t help the tears that welled up in my eyes. My friends had been nothing but supportive through all of this. Sure, I was a little upset that they hadn’t told me about my amnesia; but honestly, were I in their shoes then I wouldn’t have been able to either, especially given the doctors’ orders.
“I’m not dying, guys. I’m just sick in the brain,” I joked as the girls squeezed me tight. They were my rocks and I knew they would get me through this dilemma. My best friends and ice cream were going to be what kept me sane. Somewhat sane Em’, broken mind and all.
“Sorry Em,” the girls said in unison. “But, we are just so glad you’re home,” Suzie finished. We headed for the living room and each took a seat. I fell back on the couch and exhaled. I was more than relieved to be out of the hospital. Although, I had to admit that I would miss that super comfy bed. I have to find out where they ordered those beds.
My home wasn’t much, but it was mine; and after being away for almost two weeks, I had grown to appreciate my little one bedroom shack. It was small, but suited me just fine.
“Chinese, anyone?” Suzie asked, pulling me out of my own head, she made her way to the fridge, pulled the restaurant’s menu, and dialed the number without waiting for our response.
We made small talk until the food arrived and ate in uncomfortable silence. I knew my amnesia was the elephant in the room and that everyone was trying to be sensitive to my situation, but all it did was piss me off. I was still the same Emily. Yes, I lost a year; but we were all still friends and I needed them not to treat me like I was some broken thing that needed fixing.
“So…is this how it’s going to be from now on?” I asked, breaking the silence and pulling the group out of their individual thoughts. This was worse than the actual amnesia. I wanted to be around the people I loved and experience the familiar teasing and banter that came with them. Instead, they acted as if… well, as if… As if you were gone forever.
I looked up at Adam, but he seemed a bit uncomfortable as he shifted his gaze from to the girls and then back to me again.
“For goodness sakes, I was in a freaking coma and woke up with amnesia, but I’m still me. Stop treating me like I’m about to break at any moment. Yes, I fucking hate this amnesia shit, but you know what? FUCK IT! I want my fucking friends to be my fucking friends!” I bellowed.
Suzie cleared her throat before finally speaking, “I’m sorry, Em. It’s just that we don’t know what to say,” she offered in a shaky, unsure, voice. She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
The others remained quiet and I just couldn’t deal with it. If they didn’t know how to be around me, then maybe it was best if they just left me alone. I didn’t need their pity and sorrowful eyes. I needed their reassuring friendship.
I sighed and shook my head, “Maybe I should be alone for a little while. I’m feeling tired anyway,” I announced, placed my half-eaten food on the coffee table, and marched out of the living room. I headed straight to my bedroom and slammed the door. I climbed onto my queen sized bed, not recognizing the comforter or sheets, and allowed more tears to fall from my eyes.
I hated what I felt. I was angry, but I knew it wasn’t really with my friends, yet I had yelled at them. I wanted nothing more than normalcy, but I wasn’t sure what normal was anymore. A year ago, the four of us would have come home and curled up on the couch to watch whatever scary movie Adam decided to put on for the night. We would have drunk an endless supply of beers until the wee-hours of the morning, laughing and having fun with each other. We never just sat in awkward silence. Had things changed that much in the last year?
The slamming of my front door crushed my spirit completely. Why is this happening to me?
ADAM
It didn’t feel right to leave Emily alone after dropping such a bomb on her earlier. But I knew she needed time to process. I understood that, but given all she had gone through, it just felt wrong leaving her alone to deal with this. The questions I was sure were swirling in her head about the last year could drive her insane. Fuck, it was driving me insane just thinking about it.
Suzie had driven to Emily’s and Diana had hitched a ride with her, but since I felt I should probably talk to Diana, I told Suzie I would give Diana a lift home. It wasn’t a big deal. I just thought that, after what happened the other night, we should probably talk – clear the air. I guess I felt that I owed her at least that much.
Suzie raised an eyebrow at me and looked me square in the eyes, “You fucking keep your hands to yourself, Owens. Or, I swear, I’ll castrate your ass!” she ordered before she revved her engine and peeled off in her vintage Mustang, her tires squealing as she turned the corner and disappeared.
What the fuck does she think I’m going do to her? I’m not a monster!
Diana didn’t seem thrilled with the idea of us being…well, alone. Fortunately for me, she didn’t protest when I gestured for her to follow me to my car. Opening the door for her, I saw her hesitate then try to exude confidence, but fail miserably. She climbed into the passenger seat with worried eyes. Shit, she’s afraid of me… Great, just fucking great!
I took a deep breath while rounding the car and released it slowly through my mouth in order to steady my emotions. I needed this conversation to be as mature and painless as possible. Once I felt that I was calm, I opened the driver’s door and jumped in
, wasting no time starting the car and heading for her home.
Initially we drove in silence while I considered how to begin. I didn’t want her to feel afraid of me, but I couldn’t forgive her either. I wracked my brain for a middle ground, but came up empty. This was definitely a tough situation all the way around. It was tough for me. I lost someone I loved and wanted to marry because of a lie. It was tough for Diana because she had allowed her emotions to rule her brain, and she told a horrible lie - a lie that broke Emily and me up. Moreover, she kept it from me throughout our relationship.
Her body was turned away from me. While she stared out the window at the passing lights, I glanced at her. She had lost weight since our breakup. Her dainty hands folded in her lap were evidence of that. The breakup had definitely changed her. I no longer saw the woman who, while we were dating laughed so hard, in the moment, that she’d pee a little in her pants. Instead, she looked sad each time I saw her. Even when she smiled, her eyes revealed what her soul couldn’t… Had I done this to her? I wondered.
Pushing the thought away, I reached over and grabbed her hand, interlocking our fingers. She jerked slightly at the touch, but didn’t pull her hand away. I remembered when holding her hand was all I needed to feel complete, but now I struggled inwardly to keep my hand there. My thoughts drifted to the night she told me the truth.
“I want to forgive you,” I finally said a little above a whisper, my eyes still focused on the road ahead. She didn’t respond, but instead gave my hand a slight squeeze; the same way she had always done when she wanted to comfort me. It was weird. Even when I was a jerk to her, she attempted to comfort me - which made it hard to hate her.
We continued the rest of the way to her house in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Had it not been for her confession, we would be planning our lives together. Instead, I battled the dual emotions raging within me. I wanted to see what my life would be like before Diana robbed Emily and me of our future. Would Emily and I be married by now? Would we still be happily in love with each other?
Another part of me, the part I wished would go away, missed Diana. She had been the center of my life for the last year; and, yes, I did love her. The problem was I wasn’t sure if I could forgive her. Should I forgive her? I was so confused, which only upset me more.
When I pulled up in front of her apartment complex, we both sat in silence, neither of us making a move to leave the car. With a long sigh, I turned to face her. I opened my mouth to say something, but she spoke instead.
“I know you still love her. You loved her the whole time and I don’t want to stand in your way. I’m sorry for hurting you, for hurting her…” she trailed off, lowering her head. “I don’t blame you for hating me.”
Her words cut me deeply as I watched her sniffle back tears. I didn’t hate her, not really. I was angry at what she had done. I still loved her; I realized as I withdrew my hand from hers and lifted them to brush her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ears.
“I don’t…I don’t hate you D. I hate what you did. I just need to see what would have happened if you hadn’t interfered. I feel like I owe it to both Emily and myself to see if we can still be together. We were in love. I was going to propose remember? I need to do this,” I declared before pulling her into a hug, her vanilla scent filling my nose once again. She nodded her head against my chest while sniffling and trying to hold back her tears.
EMILY
Two hours later, I was alone, balled up on my bed, and feeling completely numb. I kept repeating the night’s events over and over in my head.
What the fuck? How could I not remember a whole fucking year of my life? Huddled in the middle of my queen-sized bed, I closed my eyes and tried to recall my last memories, but couldn’t seem to go past the day Adam confessed his love for me. Tears rolled down my face as I recalled that day, like it was yesterday. That’s because to you it literally was yesterday.
Sniffling back my tears, I lifted myself off the bed, threw on my shoes, and headed for the door. I needed to drive and think.
Grateful that Suzie had told me the make and model of my rental car while I was staying in the hospital, I climbed in, still sniffling back the tears that threatened to fall. I didn’t have a specific place in mind, but I peeled out of the parking spot and headed to the main road in a brand new Honda Civic. Normally, in these kinds of fucked up situations, I would have headed to Adam’s for comfort. But given today’s revelations, I was on my own – all alone, with a chunk of my life missing. So, I just drove around, with no specific destination in mind.
Music blared loudly through the small car as I allowed myself to cry. The realization that Adam, whom I still deeply loved just a few weeks ago, was no longer in my life hit me hard and I drove on autopilot. Rationally, I knew it hadn’t been a few weeks, but to me it had been. To me it was still the best love I had ever experienced and the sudden loss tore me apart.
Everything changed for me in a single day. I didn’t know what my relationships had been like with my friends. I didn’t know what new sexual conquest Suzie had found in the last year; didn’t know if Diana had made partner in her firm yet. Were we still thick as thieves? I wanted to believe so, but how could I be certain with a whole year’s memories torn out of my head.
Twenty minutes into the drive, I found myself outside of a decorative iron-gated entryway with cast iron columns on each side. I turned off the engine and stared at the gate, wondering why I had driven here. Climbing out cautiously, I rounded the car and peered at the gate. It seemed a bit familiar, but I wasn’t sure. Have I been here before?
A chill crept up my spine as I lifted my fingers to touch the gate, closing my eyes and channeling any memory I could conjure up. It felt like I stood there forever before I finally gave up. It was obvious I was losing my freaking mind, so I allowed my hand to drop to my side, and slowly turned away to walk back to my car. Uh… too late for that Em, you already lost your mind, I thought. Chuckling to myself for the first time since Suzie’s big announcement, I almost had a heart attack when I heard the gate suddenly open behind me. What the…
“Ms. Emily, do you wish to come in?” I heard someone say, though I couldn’t decipher who it was. Hesitant I stepped forward, followed by another and then another.
Chapter Eight
“Some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the savoring of loneliness.”
~ Poppy Z. Brite ~
JULIEN
Sleep didn’t come, nor did I attempt to chase it, as I sat in the guest bedroom nursing my whiskey. Today had been harder than I had anticipated and tonight… Well, tonight I drank. Pushing myself up from the beige love seat in the corner of the room, I ambled over to the balcony, desperate for fresh air. I reached the railing, took a deep breath, and released it while clamping my eyes shut. I repeated this a few more times. No one woman was worth all this heartache, I tried to convince myself.
Releasing a final breathe, I opened my eyes and was instantly shocked at what was before me. Had I gone completely insane? Was this the final stage for a broken man? It wasn’t enough that Emily’s presence haunted my home, but now I saw her, too. I wondered.
I watched while my mind illustrated her walking up the rounded driveway and stopping at the water fountain at the center. She reached down to touch the flowers, picked one, and lifted it to her nose. She seemed a bit lost and I chuckled to myself thinking how wrong my mind was. I was the one lost.
I lifted my gaze back to her, only to find that she looked directly at me, startled.
“Oh shit! Sorry! I’m not trespassing, I promise. I just ended up at the front gate. Shit, shit, shit,” she went on and on as she backed away from me, then turned around to walk away.
Suddenly I was on my feet, flying down the stairs and at the front door. “Wait! Don’t go!” I called after her, running to meet her. “Please!” I begged just before reaching her and grabbed her arm.
She spun around and peered at me, her inte
nse brown eyes obviously upset. Her reddened eyes glared at my hand on her arm and I released her immediately. Had she remembered me after all?
“Look sir, I said I was sorry and that I wasn’t trying to trespass. I’m leaving. You don’t need to run me down!” she bellowed, obviously still having no clue as to who I was.
My heart sank. She had to have remembered something if she was at my door, but she hadn’t recognized me. Suddenly worried about her safety, I looked around for any sign of her friends, “Are you alone?” I asked.
“Uh … no … I have friends with me. Big, tall, muscular, friends that will beat the shit out of you if you try something,” she challenged, threw her shoulders back and lifted her head high in an attempt to intimidate me.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her. God I missed that sassy attitude. It hurt that she hadn’t remembered me fully, but I was relieved that she had remembered enough to come here. It was a start, a sign; and, my God, I was determined now - more than ever - to never let her go, my heart feeling complete just to be near her again. My Emily!
“Really? So, where exactly are these friends of yours?” I asked sarcastically, barely able to contain my laugh, which only seemed to piss her off more. She glared at me with a deathly stare, her soft plump lips pressed together as her chest began to rise and fall.
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” she asserted before turning away from me.
“Mon amour, please don’t leave. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone. At least let me take you home?” I pleaded softly behind her.
She stopped dead in her tracks, and I released a breath that I hadn’t even realized I had been holding, as she turned to face me. She didn’t say a word at first but stared at me with a confused expression. Was she remembering something?
EMILY
“Who are you?” I asked him, feeling self-conscious and oddly turned on. The man was like a perfect fucking painting. His strong jaw and pink, pouty, seemingly soft, lips were absolutely delicious to look at. Not to mention his strong arms, which were barely concealed under his dress shirt, which was half unbuttoned, giving me a nice view of his sculpted, chiseled, chest. He. Was. Perfect.
