Page 67 of Brain Damage

My mouth feels dry. “I…”

The truth is, Clark is my last chance to have a baby. If we get divorced, by the time I find another person willing to procreate with me, it really will be too late. I’m not sure if I can make peace with that fact.

Clark reaches out his hand to me. “Will you please give me another chance, Charlotte? I love you so much.”

The other truth is that I do still love Clark. I can’t turn off my love for him just because I found out he cheated. He made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. That’s why pencils have erasers, right?

“I need to think about it,” I croak.

Clark nods. “I understand. Do you… want me to leave?”

Part of me does want him to leave. But then again, if he leaves, will he go stay with her?

“You can stay in the guest bedroom,” I tell him.

Clark nods again. “I’m going to make this right,” he promises.

47

AFTER

“So are you ever going to get your skull put back on?” Jamie asks me.

We’re sitting together in the hallway, like we do every night. We just finished eating dinner, and an aide has cleared away our trays of food. I still can’t get over the fact that Jamie could go back to his room if he wanted, but instead he’s staying out here with me. He’s got to be out of his mind.

“I guess so,” I say. At least, I hope so. I really don’t want to have to wear a helmet for the rest of my life. Then again, my skull was pretty much destroyed by the bullet. Can they make a new skull? Do we have that kind of technology yet?

“When?”

“I have no idea,” I say. I touch the helmet, which feels suddenly very itchy again. “Hopefully soon.”

“I hope so too.” Jamie grins at me. “I want to see what your hair looks like.”

I can’t help but remember what Angela said yesterday in Thinking Skills Group. About how Jamie has a crush on me. I wonder if that could be true. After all, he does stay in the hallway with me when he doesn’t need to…

But no, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. He couldn’t possibly.

Jamie scratches absently at the scar on his scalp. I’ve noticed he does that a lot. “Does it itch a lot?” I ask him.

He blinks in confusion. “Does what?”

I gesture at his head. “The scar.”

“Oh.” Jamie laughs and touches his scalp self-consciously. “Yeah. Like crazy.”

Another thing that we have in common.

Jamie is looking at me, still smiling. He’s got that look like he wants to say something, but whatever it is, he isn’t saying it. He’s just sitting there quietly, looking at me.

Then I suddenly see the smile fade from Jamie’s face. One second he’s smiling, the next he looks completely horrified. His eyes widen, and a vein stands out in his neck that I’d never seen before. He’s not looking at me anymore, but at something past me.

“Karen,” I hear him say in a choked voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Then I see her appear. In that sudden way that people appear when they approach me from the left side.

So this is Karen. As terrible as my memory is these days, I remember who Karen is. She’s the mother of Jamie’s son.

She’s young. Younger than I thought she would be, far younger than I am. Maybe mid-twenties, late twenties at most. She’s very tall, probably nearly as tall as Jamie is, and he’s above average height for a man. She has long, wavy black hair, and she’s very thin. The cheekbones on her face look sharp, like they might hurt if you nuzzled against her. And she’s pale. Like she hasn’t been out in the sun in years. The purple lipstick she’s wearing makes her look like a vampire.