Page 59 of Yours Truly, Fall

Something tells me if I ask real nicely, she’ll meet me back in my bedroom again.

I blink, reeling my thoughts back in from the bedroom. She’ll be at the ceremony, Brandon. Pride wells in my chest, and I rest my chin on the top of her head as I accept what I always wanted. Someone to celebrate with, to share my life with. Her entire identity is helping others, but I see the way she doesn’t prioritize herself. I want to do that for her, too.

“I’ll let you know.”

I have all the privacy anyone could dream of on this mountain, but the loneliness is sometimes louder than the peace. She has no privacy, tiptoeing around a house full of women, but her bedroom is a living time capsule. I can change that. I want her with me. I want to give her the space she deserves to call her own.

I work all the fucking time, but it wasn’t until she’s been here that I realized why. I built an amazing home, but I don’t want to be here alone.

So when I asked her if this was real, it wasn’t because I’m losing touch with reality. It’s because I needed it to sink in. I’m now convinced that she was brought here not only to nurse me to better health but also to heal a part of me that I hadn’t felt in years. My heart.

There’s still a missing link to contend with—my memory of her.

I hop off the barstool when she heads into the kitchen. While she grabs a glass from the cabinet, I give her space, keeping the peninsula between us. It’s not a fun topic to broach, but I need answers since my memories haven’t been recovered. “Don’t you find it interesting that the one person I can’t remember is the main person in my life?”

“Good thing you saved that dog.”

“I was kind of meaning on a bigger scale, more existential.”

She flicks on the faucet and fills the glass. I see the ideas turning in her eyes and watch as she gets lost in her thoughts for a moment. When she looks at me, she asks, “Like?”

“Like fate, or however you want to look at it.”

She shuts off the faucet and takes a sip, seeming to need more time to ponder the concept. “I didn’t know you believed in that stuff.”

Scratching the back of my neck, I scoff. “Me either, but maybe there’s something to it.”

“I don’t really believe in coincidences.”

“If you don’t believe in coincidences, you believe I’ve forgotten you for a reason. What would that reason be?”

“Let me just state upfront that I took this job for professional reasons that had nothing to do with you.” She takes a sip, but when she lowers the glass, she holds it with both hands as if she needs a lifeline. “So I didn’t come in here thinking I’d sleep with you when I signed on.”

“I would hope not,” I joke, though even I can admit it’s not funny.

At least that wins me a half-hearted laugh. “Trust me, I know some who might have if they got a look at you.” She takes another quick sip as if her throat is dry, and then clears it. “What I mean is I didn’t come here with ulterior motives. I only came to help you, and it did help me out of a sticky situation. Mutually beneficial.”

It’s a situation she should have never been put in, though. The fucker. “It was a win-win.”

Her smile is soft but genuine as she comes around the counter, sets down the glass beside her, and takes my hand instead. The muscles at her shoulders aren’t as tense as she rests her hip against the countertop. “I need to say something, and I hope you can give me grace in the decisions I’ve made.” It’s not a question. She doesn’t wait for me to give her the go-ahead. “I didn’t cause your memory loss, but I feel like keeping you in the dark about what happened between us isn’t serving either of us well. I thought I was protecting you in a way, but I realized I was only protecting myself, so I didn’t get hurt again. There’s no protecting me anymore, and the truth is the only path forward.”

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach as I travel through scenarios of what could have possibly happened between us. “I’ve wondered and waited, but with a start like that, I’m a bit nervous.” I laugh, glancing away and rubbing my forehead. “Do I want to know the truth if it’s that bad?”

“I ask myself the same question each time I circle the topic. What we have is good. Really good.” She rubs the side of my leg, sliding her hand higher to come to rest on top of it. “Will having everything out in the open help or harm what we’re building?”

I sit back on the barstool, hating to move away from her, but I need some room to process the potential repercussions of each scenario. “I’m sure there are pros and cons, but without the facts, I can’t weigh them.” I hate that sunken heart of mine is still thumping loudly in my ears. “All I know is that I have a hole in my memory and you’re the only one who can help me fill it in. I can’t force you to share the information. Only you can decide if it’s worth it. But if you’re asking me, I’d rather know and deal with the consequences.”

With distance still between us, she sets her eyes on mine and says, “You broke my heart. And until recently, I hadn’t realized that you also broke me.”

That confession drops like a weight at our feet, dragging my heart with it.

I expected a date we didn’t connect on, but life changes people, and things are different this time.

Another notion crossing my mind is that we lost contact after we went to college and she got hurt feelings over it.

We argued about future goals.

Didn’t want to date long distance.