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“I need to go.”
“Okay.”
Terrified I’d never see her again, I cupped her cheek, feeling her soft skin beneath my fingers, but it was too much. I’d never wanted to be so close to someone, but equally want to run to the ends of the earth to escape them.
“If you have questions, I’ll be here,” she whispered, tentatively wrapping her fingers in mine; her soft touch sending a jolt through my body that ripped a cry from my lips. All I could do was nod in reply before I walked back into the busy Miami night, wondering why it looked like the world was carrying on as normal while mine had just imploded.
“Arch, what happened?” Fox rushed over, grabbing my face in his hands. “You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Charlie, get the boy a drink. Something strong.”
Seconds later, Charlie pushed a tumbler into my hand, filled with whiskey, as Fox steered me to sit.
Downing it, I let the burn spread through me, hoping it would calm the storm raging inside me.
“Archer, you’re scaring me. What did Nee say?” Fox grabbed my jaw, squeezing hard, trying to shake some focus back into me.
“She doesn’t remember…” I whispered, still not believing that the universe could be so cruel.
“She doesn’t remember what?”
“Me.”
Charlie dropped to sit on the floor in front of me, looking as shocked as I felt. “How is that possible?”
“They found a tumor. When she got trampled. And then told her she’d most likely lose her memory.”
“Fuck, so she has cancer?”
I shook my head. “Benign.”
“So she doesn’t remember, what… anything?”
I looked up at my friends, who were staring at me like I might break. “She has no clue who I am. Taking it out destroyed her memory.”
Fox pulled me in, wrapping his arms around me. I waited to fall apart, but all I could feel was the empty gnawing numbness eating me alive.
“I can’t do this again,” I mumbled against Fox’s chest. “How could it happen again? Why would the universe bethatcruel?”
“I don’t know, man. I really don’t know.”
Eventually, I pushed out of my friend's hold and went to pour myself another drink, holding the bottle up to Charlie and Fox, before pouring them both one when they both nodded.
Moving to sit around the kitchen island, we all drank in silence for a while before Charlie looked up, obviously full of questions.
“But she recognized you in the restaurant. She dropped her tray. Why would she do that if she didn’t remember?”
Swirling the amber liquid around my glass, I shrugged. “She said she had a picture of me with a note telling her not to contact me. She thought I might be dangerous. She had no idea we’d been together, except…” I paused.
“Except?”
“She had all this art on the wall. Eight pictures that I could see. They were all me.”
“What? Photos?”
“No, paintings. Not my face, but my body, my tattoos, all me.”
Fox’s brows furrowed. “Do you think she’s lying? About her memory?”
“If she is, that would be the cruelest joke ever.”
