“Yes,” she answers immediately, but again there’s this uncertain quality to her answer. Not having the energy to deal with what she’s not saying right now, I close my eyes and take stock of what I’ve learned.
My head throbs at it all.
Fighting through the pain, I ask the question I’d been too ashamed to ask since I felt her touch bring me out of unconsciousness. “Can I ask you something else?”
Brushing her hand through the hair falling in my eyes, she says, “Anything. You can ask me anything, baby.”
“Who are you?”
The doctor and my parents walk back in the room, explaining the tests I’m being whisked away to, but all I can focus on is the look of horror on her face. Before she can say anything, I’m being wheeled out of the room.
Moving in reverse on the gurney, my eyes stay locked with hers. They’re such a deep blue it’s as if I’m being sucked down into an ocean. But the only memory coming to me is of her song, its melody drifting toward me, chasing the dark away.
“He doesn’t remember you at all?” Jade hands me a very large glass of wine as she curls next to me on her sofa.
Taking a few large gulps, I swallow down the wine, letting it accompany the pain I’m attempting to bite back. Shaking my head, I try to give her as much information as I can without breaking down. “He doesn’t remember me, or that he’s a firefighter. He doesn’t even remember what happened to land him in the hospital.”
“Ian?” she gasps his name, clutching her hand to her chest.
Dropping a hand to hers, I explain, “No, sweetie. I’m sorry. He doesn’t remember Ian either. I mentioned his name, but David had no clue who he was.”
“So then he doesn’t know . . .” Her question trails off into silence.
“No. I couldn’t tell him that.” After taking another sip, I try my best to rationalize how unfair life can be sometimes. “The man I love had just woken up from a two week coma and he couldn’t remember a damn thing except his parents. How was I supposed to tell him that his best friend had lost both of his legs trying to protect him?” Not that it was my intention, but I allow my anger to seep into my words, letting them fall from my mouth as if they were barbed and spiked, intended to inflict pain.
We both finish our first glass of wine before pouring another, letting the silence settle around us.
“How is he?” My words cut through the quiet.
She shrugs, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I guess. Slowly coming around to the idea that he has no legs. But he met with the orthopedist today. He’s going to be fitted for prosthetics and he can start rehab with them soon.”
“I can’t wait to see him. Is he up for visitors yet?” Since the attack, he hasn’t wanted to see much of anyone. Even the guys from the squad. When they come to visit, they hang out in the hallway, a silent wall of strength supporting their injured brother. He’s only wanted to see Jade and his parents.
Shaking her head, she sighs. “No. He’s still working through it all. I’m shocked he even wants to see me.”
“Well you two are–”
She laughs. “Please tell me you’re going to end that sentence explaining what we are. Because I have no clue. We were hanging out. That’s all. Something casual, something fun. Then the smallest flicker of feeling started to come to life and he was nearly blown up.” Searching for her thoughts in the bottom of her second glass of wine, Jade shifts on the sofa, twisting to face me. “I was really starting to like him. To enjoy my time with him. And I think he felt the same way, too. But now . . . no, you know what? Forget it. It’s not that important.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” I wave away her easy dismissal of her feelings. “If he’s important to you and you’re important to him–”
A flippant laugh breaks through my mini-lecture. “Me important to him?” she jokes. “Are you kidding? Ian is the king of ‘this is nothing serious.’ I was nothing more than a fling for him.”
“Okay, that might be true of who Ian used to be. But now, he’s changed. His life has been thrown upside down and you’re one of the pieces he wants to hold on to. He wants you there. You can’t ignore that, sweetie. So don’t turn it around and say it isn’t important. Help him. Build up what you lost, no matter how small you thought it was, and learn to move forward together.”
Pulling me into her arms, Jade let’s out a deep sigh of relief. “You’re right. It’s just been so difficult.”
Holding her at arm’s length, I look into her dark brown eyes. “Yeah, tell me about it.” I laugh, a small humorless sound.
“So what are you going to do?” She adds more wine to my still somewhat full glass, after which she refills her own.
Shrugging, I offer her the only answer I know. “The same thing I just told you.” Taking another sip, I think about all the memories I have of me and David. Of his sweet, loving ways. Of his love for me and for his job. Of his passion for life. Deep in my heart, a sense of duty, born only from love rises in my chest. “He might not remember me now, but I’ll get him there.”
We clink glasses, toasting our joint promises to help the men in our lives become whole again.
“Good morning,” I chirp, opening the door slightly. Determined not to let his lost memories stop me from loving him, I walk into his hospital room bright and early, not at all deterred by my sleepless night.
Dangling a paper bag in my hand and a drink tray in the other, I announce, “I brought some breakfast. And real coffee.” My voice pulls his attention away from the window. Overlooking the city, giant skyscrapers almost touch the white, puffy clouds. It’s a serene view. The perfect place to heal. But as David turns toward me, he looks anything but peaceful.
He winces slightly as he adjusts himself in the bed. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a job? Somewhere else to be? Where are my parents?”
Ignoring the touch of meanness in his questions, I explain, “It’s Saturday. School’s closed. And your parents are home, sleeping. Probably for the first time in weeks. When I left yesterday,” I continue as I pull his coffee from the cardboard cup holder, “I let them know I’d be spending the night at Jade’s and that I could be here early.” Yesterday when I left, I asked his parents if they’d be okay with letting me have a few hours this morning with him on my own. I think they were so exhausted from the weeks of being here twenty-four seven and elated knowing he was going to make a full physical recovery they were all too willing to sleep in for once.
“Jade? I guess I’m supposed to know her, too,” he snips.
“So you’re a teacher?” His question, solidifying how much he doesn’t know me, slices through my heart.
Nodding, I swallow back the lump in my throat. “Yes, I am. High school English.” He doesn’t say anything, but there’s something in the tension vibrating off him that makes me continue to tell him more about me and the connection we share. “Your chief, Gallagher.” He nods, and I don’t dare ask if it’s because he actually remembers him or if he’s just accepting the information. “He’s married to my principal. You helped me land the job, so when you were injured, I was able to take a few days off. I never left your side in those days.” The anguish, the gut-wrenching sickness I felt in those days not knowing if he’d survive crashes into me, forcing tears to well in my eyes. “When you were stable, I went back to work. But I was always thinking about you here.”
Without saying anything, he nods again. My cue to stop talking about how much I love him, how much I care about him. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want to hear any more of it.
Settling into the chair at his side, I see the dark bags under his eyes. “You didn’t sleep well.”