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"Alright then, I'll be there," he assured me.
"You have to come with me, you don't know the place," I reminded him.
"Oh right, I forgot," he chuckled.
Stacy…you better know what you're doing.
****
We arrived at my place.
"Don't touch anything," I warned. "Most of these things are antiques from my mom."
"But they're all over at the fireplace," he pointed out.
"I'm just…I want you not to go close them," I explained.
"It's okay, I understand," he said and took a seat on the couch. "I'm just glad I get to be in your house."
I'm glad you're here too.But I wasn't going to tell him that. I had already planned on having a sandwich for dinner. Turkey sandwich was the dinner. Now that he was here, I wondered if this was dinner enough, considering how much he had complained about the guest house food.
After I was done with the meal, I took it to the living room half expecting him to already be at the fireplace. He was comfortably seated and gave off an air of intimidation as he sat still observing his surroundings.
He watched me from the corner of his eye and a smile formed. "You know, I can't recall any house I've been to that still has a chimney."
"Well, we do," I said as I set down the meal in front of him. "Here, I hope you like it."
"Sandwiches," he said and chuckled softly.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"No, it's just, I was reminded of that might you tried to cheer me up," he answered.
I had even forgotten that we had chicken sandwiches there.
"Do you know that because of what I did to you, I started to frequent that diner in a desperate attempt to find you," he admitted. "I grew addicted to their chicken sandwich and had to start working out again."
"I see," I said softly. "I honestly thought you wouldn't have bothered looking. Then the incessant calls…."
"Speaking of calls, you spoke to my brothers besides me," he said. "It hurt when I found out. It was at that moment I realized you finally hated me."
His shoulders dropped; he picked up the sandwich, a sad smile on his lips. He ate the sandwich and his eyes widened. "Maybe you need to open your own diner and run it alongside the hospital."
"So give my customers cholesterol, and treat them?" I asked.
"That is a brilliant idea! Why didn't I think of that?" he asked himself and continued eating.
I looked at his body; there were indeed signs that he had done some workouts. His arms had gotten bigger. His shoulders had gotten broader too. He went through that because of me. I stared at my right hand, and it started to hurt again.
"I never hated you," I said.
"What?"
"I never hated you," I repeated without looking at him. "I was just angry and betrayed. Furious…hurt…but never hate."
He didn't say anything and let me continue.
"I just….I didn't expect you would say that about me that way," I continued. "Some days, I would remember how scared I was after hitting you. Even right now, my hand hurts. I still feel your cheek against it. I still see the look of shock on your face. How could I hate you if these memories have refused to leave?"
