“Okay.” My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I tried to sit up properly. Setting the box on the metal tray, I placed my hands on the bed and pushed myself upright. The effort caused trickles of sweat to form at my temples.
“I wanted to tell you we’re over. All of it. Done. I’ve moved on. I’m engaged. I have a new life—without you. Please don’t contact me anymore.”
I looked up at her, and while I should have felt nothing but confusion, her words caused me a physical pain I wasn’t prepared for. My heart jolted and I reached up, touching my chest as her words sank in. I didn’t know this woman but my heart obviously did, because in that moment—it was breaking.
“I don’t understand,” I muttered.
“Of course you don’t. Do you remember anything?” she replied, her voice heated with raw anger and annoyance.
“No,” I answered simply.
Her hands went up in frustration as she rose to her feet. “I knew this was a stupid idea.”
“Please, let me speak,” I begged.
Her eyes met mine briefly and she nodded, turning away as she began to pace the room.
“The doctors are calling it a dissociative fugue—or at least that’s what they’re thinking today. I’m sure they’ll come up with something new next week when they bring in more consultants, seeing as I’m now their newest lab rat.”
She turned around, her face contorted in confusion.
“I don’t understand anything you just said.”
“You asked me if I remembered anything and I said no. I mean it, Everly. I have no memories of my life before I opened my eyes a few days ago. I asked the doctors to call you because I found a picture of you in my wallet and thought you might be able to help me figure out who I am. I have amnesia.”
I saw the words hit her like a battering ram; her eyes widened and her breath accelerated. It was as if her body seemed to reject the idea, and suddenly everything went blank. She checked out.
“Nurse! Help!” I screamed as I helplessly watched Everly’s body crumble to the floor.
* * *
The look of her soft skin so close to mine was familiar, yet new at the same time.
After the nurse and attendants rushed in and I explained what had happened, they’d quickly lifted her and placed her frail body on the empty bed next to mine. Suddenly my isolation and lack of roommate was paying off. Nurse Amy looked a little wary when I’d made the demand to have her near me, rather than moving her to another room, but quickly complied when she saw the look of distress in my eyes. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye to this mysterious woman.
After a quick assessment, Nurse Amy announced breathing was even, her vitals normal—there was nothing wrong with her, other than what she could only guess was an overwhelming amount of stress.
Stress caused by me.
My fingers reached out, wanting to slowly trace over the curve of her shoulder as I memorized the shape of her pouty pink lips and the slight flush of her cheeks.
How could I forget a life with someone like her? It was as if I’d forgotten something as magnificent as the sun rising over the horizon.
Her eyes fluttered open and locked with mine. Suddenly, realization set in and she pushed upright and bolted away, jumping off the bed and putting as much distance between us as possible without actually leaving the room.
“You passed out,” I stated, trying to explain the situation as best I could.
“So they left me in here…with you? Alone?” she hissed. Her face was beet red with anger as she glared at me from across the room.
“I thought you’d be more comfortable.”
Her gaze narrowed as her arms folded across her face and tightened.
“Look August, you obviously have the doctors fooled and I can see why—you play dumb well. But I’m not falling for it.”
I shook my head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
She raised her voice as her hands flew over her head. “Cut the shit! This won’t work. I’m not falling for it. If this is some sick way to get even with me for—,” Her gaze turned away as her words cut off mid-sentence.
Dragging my fingers through my long hair, I nearly laughed at irony of this moment. “You think I’m lying?”
“No,” she said, wrapping her arms across her chest as a small chuckle escaped her throat. “I know you are.”
“Amazing,” I muttered.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not coming back. Don’t come for me. Don’t try and find me.”
I watched in a daze as she marched toward the doorway, her angry footsteps echoing through the silent room as she walked away—forever.