Noah
A LITTLE OVER TWENTY MINUTES OF MY SITTING BESIDE HER BEDSIDE PASSES
before her eyes begin to flutter open, and I force as much of a smile as I can muster.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Honey, you should have woken me.” She places her palm over mine, and as she gets a better look at me, her face falls. “Noah, no. Is Ari… did she not make —”
“No, no, she’s okay.” I shake my head, my voice hoarse and thick with exhaustion.
“Noah?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, looking away as my eyes begin to cloud.
Outside of being a young boy, my mom has only seen me cry once, and that was the day I came here to tell her about Ari’s accident.
In the eleven days Ari was out, I wouldn’t leave the hospital, but when the doc would make his rounds, asking us to clear the room while he and the nurse ran through her vitals, I’d run over here to see my mom, something I could never do during the football season, and thank fucking
god for those few minutes I was forced to step away from my baby’s bedside. If I didn’t have that little time with my mom, I’m not sure what I would have done.
It might have only been for twenty or so minutes at a time, less on days she herself would get too anxious and tell me to hurry back to my girl, but it was the only thing that kept me sane.
But I don’t feel sane anymore.
My mom squeezes my hand, and I drop my chin to my chest, pulling in a full breath.
“She doesn’t remember me, Mom.” I look to her, her face blurry from the mess my eyes threaten to make. “She woke up, but she woke to a world I wasn’t a part of.”
My mom’s shaky inhale has me swallowing, trying to be a soldier for her sake, like she always does for me, but I can’t find a drop of inner strength inside me, and the look in my mom’s eyes says I don’t have to.
“Come here, baby.” She tugs on my hand, and I allow my body to fall against hers.
Her hand rubs along my back, and I hate that I’ve come here like this, that I’ve pulled her into my nightmare, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
I close my eyes, reminding myself I’m lucky I’m not alone in life, that I need to be grateful for the things I have, but my mind fights back, screaming for me to shut the fuck up.
That I am alone.
That I do have nothing.
Because what will my life be without Arianna Johnson? Empty, that’s what.
 |
Ari
“I think I want to know,” I admit, and Mason’s anxious gaze finds
me.
He steps around the doctor, coming to stand near Cameron on my opposite side. They share a look, both facing me.
“Ari,” Mason grasps my hand as he drops onto the bed beside me, a torn expression carved along his face. “You sure that’s a good idea? The doc just said—”
“That it could be triggering or traumatic, I know, I was listening, but what do you think waking up and realizing your mind is stuck in July feels like?” Proof of my botched emotions warms my cheeks, and Mason’s grip tightens. “I need to know why everyone is looking at me like I’m not even me. Did my life really change that much in one semester?”
Mason looks down, his eyes glossy when they finally rise to mine. “Why don’t we pause on that a moment okay,” Dr. Brian intervenes.
“And get back to understanding where we are. Does that sound all right with you?”
Mason waits until I nod to face forward.
“Okay, as you said, the last thing you remember is leaving the beach, correct?”
An anxiousness pulls at me, but I clear my throat. “Yeah. We spent the end of summer at our beach house, but I left a little earlier than planned. I remember leaving, but I don’t remember the drive or getting back to my house.”
“You mentioned bright lights?” I close my eyes, thinking back.
It was nighttime when I stepped out of the door, my dad’s truck waiting for me to climb inside for the trip home. I crossed the roadway, and I saw a
truck parked a few ways down. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it might have been Chase. Before I could get a better look, the headlights flicked on. I lifted my arm, trying to see past the shine, but it didn’t help.
The brightness blinded me. And then… darkness.
“It, um, it was headlights. I was crossing the street, and they flicked on, shined right into my eyes.”
The doctor nods, looking to Mason when he speaks.
“Just like that night.” He frowns, looking to the doctor. “It’s almost the same. She was crossing the street, and then the truck came. She looked, but” —he swallows— “it was too late.”
My heartbeat spikes slightly, and I wince as I attempt to drag in a full breath.
Dr. Brian, folds his clipboard in front of him, tipping his head slightly. “Arianna, did something happen that night? The night you do remember?”
Panic washes over me, and while I’m not sure if it shows, the monitors I’m hooked up to give me away.
Mason’s posture stiffens, and Cameron’s palm finds my upper arm, afraid I’m going to have another panic attack.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Mase rushes out, and when I look into my brother’s eyes, finding his soft ones on mine, I take a breath. “I already know,” he says quietly.
Nodding, I hold his gaze. “You do?”
“Yeah, sister, I know about you and Chase. Maybe not every little thing, probably not every little thing, but I do know the big stuff. I know…” He looks to the doctor briefly, swallowing hard as he brings his attention back to me. “I know he hurt you, maybe even… broke your heart.” His brows pull into a frown.
The urge to cry out creeps over me, so I squash my lips to the side, because his tone, it’s telling, as is the sorrow in his eyes.
“Mase…”
He understands, shaking his head as he hangs it.
Chase hurt me, broke my heart, and this is Mason’s way of telling me his best friend didn’t put the pieces back together.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I nod again, salty tears falling into the corners of my mouth.
“Arianna,” the doctor eases. “Is that the way you remember that night?”
Nodding, I force myself to look at him. “Yeah. It was a rough day.” To put it lightly.
He nods, flipping a few pages and reading over something in my file.
He closes it and faces me once more.
“Oftentimes, in amnesia cases like this, the brain will link trauma to trauma, and I believe that is what we are dealing with here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s sort of as I explained to you about why we had to place you in a coma. Your injuries caused you a great deal of pain, and your brain was at risk of shutting down because of it. What we are facing now is the same idea but related to memory instead. You experienced trauma, and your brain connected it to past trauma, erasing the time in-between.”
My throat runs dry, my legs prickling. “I don’t think I’m following.
What trauma? New trauma?”
What could have possibly happened to me that ached like that night did?
Was it about the baby? Had I already lost it?
My sniffles grow choppier, and it doesn’t take long before my chest is sputtering, the movement creating an ache through my entire upper body, reminding me of my wounds on the outside, but it’s nothing compared to the pain within.
I was going to be a mom, something I’ve always dreamed of, but imagined would happen later in life. It was the only thing I was certain of, the one thing I wanted more than anything else, and I can’t even remember if I knew about the little blessing before I lost him.
A good mother would remember that no matter what.
Wouldn’t she?
Dr. Brian says something, but I have no idea what and then he walks out.
My eyes close.
I was told I was only seven weeks pregnant, not far along enough to know the sex… and not far along enough to have gotten pregnant over the summer.
That means Chase wasn’t the father, that’s what my brother shared. Unless we found each other again and nobody knew it?
He would have come to me when I cried, held me and cried with me if that were true, wouldn’t he have?
My body racks with silent sobs, and when I force my eyes open, my brother’s find mine.
He hesitates a moment, and I curl my toes in my socks, anxious. “Ari
—”
He’s cut off when there’s a soft rap against the wall.
All our heads snap toward the door, and my stomach drops at the sight. Broken blue eyes flash in my mind, and my hand twitches,
remembering the feel of the one that held mine the day my eyes opened in this room.
Juliet, open your eyes…
My brows cave as I look him over.
Dark hair tousled, eyes a deep, depthless blue.
It’s the guy I met this summer. The guy from the beach. A friend of my brother’s.
A friend of mine?
“Noah,” I don’t mean to say out loud, but it slips from my lips.
My brother jerks beside me, and a choppy exhale pours from Noah’s lips.
My stomach tightens, and his forehead follows suit. “I was hit by your football.”
He swallows. “You were.” “You came to the bonfire.” “I didn’t stay long.”
“I know, I remember.”
He licks his lips, giving a stiff nod. “I have that effect.”
A small laugh slips from me, but I cut it short the second I realize, and something softens in his gaze. As if it takes effort, he jerkily tears his eyes away. He looks to my brother, but only for a moment, before his gaze comes right back to me.
There’s something a little different about him, but I can’t put my finger on what.
“I, um,” he begins, the rasp in his tone rattling my throat. “I can’t stay.”
Mason flies to his feet so fast his shoes squeak against the floor, and a strange sense of unease builds behind my ribs.
“Okay.”
Noah looks up at the ceiling a moment, and when his gaze comes back, it’s beaten. “I found some people you’ll be really happy to see,” he tells me.
I don’t take my eyes off his as he glances behind him, and then he moves aside, someone else stepping through.
Relief wooshes through me, and my face falls into my hands, full, heavy weeps instantly tearing from me, completely overcome with the most welcome sight.
I sob, my body shaking, and then strong arms wrap around me, holding me close. “Dad.”
“It’s okay, baby girl.” His voice cracks. “It’s okay. I’m here. Your mama’s here.”
Mason sniffles beside me, and then my mom is there, running her hands over my hair. I fall into her chest, and my dad holds us close, but not before my attention is called across the room.
To Noah.
Who is already staring, and while he seems to ease before my eyes, his tell a different story. Only, before I’m given the chance to look further, he’s gone.
|
Noah
Outside the door, I fall against the wall, my eyes closing as I
drag a deep breath through my nostrils, slowly blowing the air from my mouth.
I left again, walked out.
I looked into my baby’s eyes, saw that familiar flicker burn within them, and watched it fade away.
Again.
It took all I had not to go to her, to drop to my knees beside her and kiss her. To kiss the spot that would soon grow with our child if the world had been kinder.
It’s not. I know this from experience, but I’d have given anything to have been able to keep her from ever finding out.
Palming my chest, I push off the wall, but I don’t get two feet from it before footsteps fall behind me.
“Where you going?” Mason’s voice follows me farther into the hall. “Why even come if you’re just gonna cut out again?”
“Your mom saw me in the parking lot, asked me to walk her up. I couldn’t say no, but maybe I should have.”
“Why were you in the parking lot?”
I swallow. “Go back in with your family, Mason.” “You go back in with your family!”
At that, I whip around, ready to tear into him, but the smirk on his lips throws me off.
Of course, it’s only there long enough for that, falling flat in the next second, and that same helplessness eating away at me washes over him. “You’re family, Noah. The minute she decided you were, that’s what you became.” He steps closer. “Don’t leave. She needs you.”
“She doesn’t even know me.”
“You heard her; she remembers everything that happened over summer. It’s everything after her last day there that’s fuzzy for her, but she remembers you.”
I shake my head, a heavy throbbing creeping in.
Goddamn it, why does that almost feel worse?
“She remembers some guy from the beach who she sat and talked to for a minute, just like she remembers being in love with someone else that day. The same someone who she sat in that hospital bed and reached for when the entire room found out she was growing a child inside of her and lost it. Our child, my child that she thinks was his. That she sat and mourned with another man in mind, not me.” A burning sense of torment spreads through me, and I swallow. “I didn’t get to comfort the woman I love after a loss no one should have to face, and I will never forgive myself for that. Ever.”
Grief-stricken, his face scrunches. “That wasn’t on you, Noah.”
“But it will stick with me. Always. Just… go back in there. I know your dad wants to talk with you.”
“Come with me, man. The doc said she linked two traumatizing events, and that’s why her mind jumped backward or some shit, so we need to find a way to help her separate them. I need you there for that. Come back inside.”
The elevator doors open beside us, revealing Brady and Chase. We stare as Brady steps out, Chase right behind him, holding a bouquet of flowers.
A cold current rushes through my veins, and my muscles tense. “Noah, what the hell, bro?” Brady approaches, but Mason raises his hand, stopping him.
“My parents are in there. Go say hi,” he instructs them, not looking their way. With hesitant steps, they move toward the hospital room.
With every step they take, a sharp ache shoots up my spine.
They slip inside, and I jerk away, unable to watch them do the one thing I desperately wish I could—just be with her, near her. Anything.
The elevator doors close again, and I can’t wait for it to return. I head for the stairwell.
“I told her!” Mason shouts before I can disappear.
My body freezes, and the swinging door almost hits me in the face. Anger ripples through me as I glance over my shoulder. “What do you mean, you told her?”
Mason looks away, and I push closer to him.
“Mason.” I get right in his face, pinning him on the spot. “She knows the baby wasn’t his.”
I swear something inside me cracks. “Don’t mess with me on this.”
“Why would I?” He presses right back but softens after a few seconds. “I made that one point clear, but I didn’t spell out anything else.”
My hands find my hips, and I take a deep breath, fighting to keep from breaking down.
“I don’t know what to do. I need her to know she’s not alone,” he stresses.
Knots form in my stomach. “She’s not. Ever.”
“I know.” His tone is low, understanding. “Noah, she’s bound to ask questions, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not sure I have all the right answers. Please, help her remember.”
My pulse quickens, tightening my tendons. “And if she doesn’t?”
“Then forget remembering.”
A scoffed laugh escapes me, and a small grin appears on his lips.
“She fell for you once, right?” He shrugs one shoulder. “Give her the chance to do it again.”
Swallowing my fears, I ask the question that’s been haunting me. “And what if she doesn’t want to?”
Mason tips his head. “Come on now. This is Ari we’re talking about. She’s still her, and you’re still you.” When I hesitate too long for him, his features harden. “Noah, please. I need to know she’s going to be okay, and the way I see it, she can’t be if she’s not with you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’d bet on it.”
If I were thinking straight, I would too. I’d bet on her, on us, but life keeps reminding me it’s rough, and for every good thing, a handful of bad follows. Every time I think things are turning around, another setback hits, and I have to fight through it. But this time, I can’t do that.
I’m at the mercy of a mind I no longer hold a place in.
I sigh, looking at the door Chase and Brady disappeared into. “She doesn’t even like flowers.”
A laugh escapes him, but the sorrow within it isn’t missed. “Yeah, man, I know. That would be my dad’s fault.”
My eyes flick to his, a small warmth flickering in my chest. “Yeah?”
He smirks, knowing he’s got me, his words offering a little more of my girl to me. But the answering “yeah” comes from down the hall.
We turn to find Mr. Johnson approaching.
I stand straight, and he clamps a hand on his son’s shoulder, facing me.
“Flowers are pretty, but they’re prettier in the dirt and don’t die after a week.” His mouth curves into a side smile. “My girls are spoiled with food, treats, and stuff.”
My lips twitch, and Mason lifts a brow in victory. “Why do you think she loved cooking meals with you? You were winning her over without even knowing it.”
Memories of the first time I cooked for her flood my mind, and I look away. “That’s sort of why I’m out here.” We both look at Mr. Johnson. “She’s starving, and she doesn’t want what they brought in.”
“I can go get her a spicy chicken from Popeye’s?” Mason’s already fishing his keys from his pocket.
“No, she, uh, she was pretty specific with what she’s craving.” His brown eyes move to mine, a hidden thought within them. “Know where we can find a pot pie around here?”
My muscles lock, a spark of something jolting me from within, the smallest hint of darkness morphing into daylight.
Unable to speak, I nod.
“Then lead the way, son.” He tips his chin. “Our girl’s waiting.” I pray to God, somewhere deep down, she is.
And then I remember the man she thinks she loves is with her right now, and any flicker of hope I might have felt is gone.
