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He turned, winking but kept walking, blood trailing down his hand onto the pavement. It was the thing I focused on later when I’d been questioned, that he’d been real, his drops of blood proof.
That was the day I learned my mother was Bipolar. She’d stopped taking her medication for the pregnancy and had wanted to breastfeed Noah. It meant monitoring her symptoms on her own and it had been approved by her doctor. They'd been watching it at her visits, but what they hadn't anticipated was the post-partum depression. It complicated things, masking a lot of her symptoms until she was in a full-blown manic episode.
There had been a lot of backlash for my father and mother after that. Mom lost her job at the real estate firm she worked for. DCS got involved and threatened to remove Noah. My father being the police chief, was the only thing I think that stopped them. He ensured he’d get her help and assistance for Noah’s care. I think my dad felt guilty for not noticing as well. Mom went back on her meds and stayed in a facility for a few months, leaving me to help raise Noah that summer while my dad tried to dispel the rumors and public opinion.
But it didn’t matter. People thought what they wanted in the end.
Simon was there for me when all my supposed friends started to pick on me and call my mom the "crazy car killing mom".
It was the summer I quit caring about my peers' opinions, the summer my body changed, forcing me to find my own style, and the summer I vowed to always be there for my family.
I quit making plans to leave Kentucky that day and changed my career path to something I could pursue at the college in town. I often wondered what happened to the blue-eyed boy who helped me, but I never saw him after that.
My job changed over the years as I bounced around to different things, attempting to find my passion. I wasn't an accountant, despite what my diploma said. I'd always been there for Noah and my mom. That meant something to me, even if no one else understood why.
Blinking back into focus, I heard Dr. Barnes tell my mom he would send someone to discharge me shortly. Mom helped me get out of bed and change into some clothes she’d brought me. When we walked back into the room, Simon was standing there, a hesitant look on his face. I walked over and hugged him, just happy to see him. His arms slowly came up and wrapped around me as well.
"Si, I'm so glad you're here."
"You are?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I asked, pulling back, and taking in his face.
"Well, because of what happened."
"What do you mean?"
"Before your injury? You don't remember?"
Remembering not to shake my head this time, I answered with my words. "No, I don't remember anything after going out last night. Do you know how I got hurt?"
Slowly, he filled me in, lifting his eyes to my mom behind me. "You overheard something I said and ran off. I couldn't get into the backdoor, so I ran around to the front. When I got inside, you looked like a ghost. Slade was trailing you, a weird look on his face too. He gave me a death glare, and in those few seconds where we both had our eyes off you was when you fell off the stool. I watched as you hit your head on the corner of the filing cabinet unable to get to you."
"Oh wow, that sounds painful, and scary. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I feel bad that I got blood all over the floor. I bet Slade’s upset about that. Did a lot of people see? Was my underwear showing when I fell?" The most random things filtered through my head as I thought about the information he’d told me.
"So, you're not mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad? I'm sure whatever it was, I'll get over it. Besides, I bet Slade was to blame. He's always saying mean things to me."
He nodded slowly, uncertainty plaguing his features as he held me close.
"I'm going to stay with my mom for a few days per doctor’s orders, that way, you don't have to worry about monitoring me while you're at work."
"Oh," he nodded, "yeah, I guess that makes sense. I'll come by and hang out, though."
"Okay, sure. Sounds great."
The nurse entered then, and I signed everything, grateful to be leaving. The three of us headed out the door, and I gave Simon a hug before heading off with my mom. Something niggled at the back of my brain that I needed to remember, but it hurt when I tried to pull at it, so I left it alone.
Dr. Barnes had said I could possibly regain the memories after a few days, or they might be lost forever. Considering it had only been a few hours of the day, I wasn't too worried. How many life-altering things could've happened by 9:00 am anyway?
Simon had brought my stuff from the shop, so I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. Looking at the screen, disappointment filled me when I didn’t see any messages. I didn’t know who I expected to text me since it was early, and Simon had been with me. But it felt like I was missing something, something I’d been excited about. Again, before I could grab ahold of it, it vanished. I started to put my phone away when a message popped up.
Bossnemy:I'm sorry, James. I'm glad you're okay. You scared me. I didn’t like it. Take all the time you need to recover.
I read the message over and over as anxiety whirled in my gut. Just what was he apologizing for? What hadhappenedin those few hours I was blocking? Maybe I did need to remember.
Especially when the butterflies took flight at the kindness in his words. I didn't know how to handle this version of Slade. If he started to be friendly, it would be tough to ignore how much I wanted him to devour me. Thoughts of two guys swirled in my head, making it a jumbled mess, and I realized I was in a world of trouble. I couldn't like either of them.
