Page 19 of Revenge Cake

“How would you know? You can’t remember. You have relationship amnesia.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means you can’t remember your past relationships. You may remember the facts, but not the feelings.”

“That isn’t true—”

“It is! You think you remember, but you can’t remember all the things you can’t remember.”

I grunt. “That’s such a bullshit thing to say. How can I defend myself if you say I can’t remember?”

“You can’t. Relationship amnesia is your blessing and your curse. Every new relationship is magic, but then you never learn from your mistakes.”

I turn away from her, shaking my head. “Doesn’t sound like a blessing. Sounds like I got the shitty amnesia. I’d rather be able to kill someone with a pen.”

When she makes a gulping sound, I realize she’s probably choking back laughter. I didn’t even really mean it as a joke, and only in retrospect do I recognize what a ridiculous thing it was to say. A sheepish smile tugs at my lips.

“The Bourne Identity is a great movie,” she says in a patronizing tone, though I hear a smile in her voice.

I whip around to face her, my own smile spreading into a grin. “It’s the greatest! In my top five, easily. I fucking love that fucking movie. Seriously, since I was twelve, it’s been like maybe my number two or three fantasy to just wake up and not know who I am, but I’m able to, like, knife fight and scale walls and shit. It goes, number one, threesome with Daenerys and the girl who plays Wonder Woman, and then full-scale Bourne Identity amnesia after that. I’m like, ‘take my memories, dude. Take everything about my mom and dad and Lauren. I don’t even care. I just want to wake up as Matt Damon in The Bourne Identity.’”

“You do know that the amnesia itself wouldn’t give you your special assassin powers, right? You would have to have been an assassin first.”

“Yeah, I do understand that, but I guess you are the amnesia expert, so thank you for your opinion, Dr. Girard.”

She smiles faintly as she turns her head away to stare out at the ocean. Her cheeks darken, and I’m tempted to ask her what she’s thinking, but she speaks before I get the chance. “It was unfair of me to tell you what you can and can’t remember. I’m sorry I can be such a know-it-all sometimes. It must be annoying.”

“Would you think I was weird if I said it actually kind of turns me on?”

She shuts her eyes, chuckling silently as she shakes her head.

I reach my hand out and run a finger along the inside of her thigh. “When you tell me I’m weak or have a dumb face or amnesia, I’m like, ‘Tell me more, baby. Keep talking dirty.’”

Her eyes pop open wide. “You’re insane!”

“Probably. Armaan always says I’m a pussy for it. I don’t really care if I am. I like what I like.”

She narrows her eyes. “Pussy! I’ll have none of that patriarchy talk. I thought my boyfriend was a feminist.”

My brows shoot to my forehead. “Am I your boyfriend now?”

She turns away to look at the water again. “For today,” she says on a sigh.

“Good,” I say with an effort at nonchalance, trying not to show how much that amendment deflated my buoyant hope. “Then, for today, I’ll tell that I’m in love with you. In my case though, it will still be true tomorrow.”

She twists her swing around slowly, giant brown eyes meeting mine.

“I’m in love with you. I’m not going to keep it from you just because it makes you uncomfortable.” I shrug. “Sorry.”

***

Leilani

“What’s up?” Brenna asks. “You look like you’re zoning out.”

“I am sort of,” I say.

As soon as I got back from the beach, I plopped down on this couch, and I’ve been lost in thought ever since. I’m barely even processing the episode of Game of Thrones we just started.

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