Page 6 of Make Me Remember

I glanced at him and nearly rolled my eyes. He said that every time I addressed him, and I told him I would prefer to address him professionally. I refused to allow him to pull me into his personal space. He wouldn’t stop until he had me spread eagle on his kitchen table. I had fucked around enough in my younger years for a lifetime. By the time I was sixteen, I had lost count. Whenever I thought about that shit, it brought me to a horrible mental space.

I ignored him as I sat to write down whatever he had to tell me about his well-being. At this point, I refused to rush simply because I was a couple of minutes late. Fuck them.

“You good, nephew? I need to go check the shop right quick. I’ll be back before she leaves.”

“Yeah, Uncle Storm, I’m good.”

His uncle gave me a smirk again, and I lost my professionalism and rolled my eyes. While I wanted to apologize, I didn’t. Surprisingly, he didn’t say anything, but he gave Jacob a look that he clearly understood. Jacob chuckled as he walked out. I ignored the entire interaction. When he turned his attention to me, the smile fell from his face.

“I apologize for missing last time. I know your time is valuable.” He grabbed a card from the couch next to him, and said, “The flowers back there are yours.”

He extended it to me, so I took it from him. “Thank you, Mister Henderson.”

“I had a setback. I got arrested and had to walk quite a bit without my cane. The way they handled me caused me to walk faster than what I should have been, so I was applying more pressure to it than normal.”

I nodded and immediately went to him and touched his knee to see if I felt anything abnormal, then his ankle. When I didn’t, I slightly massaged it and asked, “What did you get arrested for?”

“For killing a nigga that was about to kill my lil cousin.”

I frowned as I turned to face him. That shit caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting that response. I always thought he was a lil hood, although he lived in the country and did country shit, like baling hay and hunting rabbits. He wore a platinum grill on his bottom row of teeth sometimes, and he was always wearing a piece and chain and diamond studs.

He was country sexy, and I truly couldn’t get enough of him. Not to mention, he was tall as fuck, probably close to six five or so. Just seeing him put me on a high that scared me. I supposed that was why I was fighting so hard against his advances.

“This your first time shooting someone?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve seen it… experienced it, but I was never the shooter.”

I glanced at him. His eyes were closed, and his bottom lip was tucked into his mouth. He had some shit to him, just like me. I was surprised he was showing it to me. I’d been seeing him for nearly a month now, so I supposed he felt comfortable bearing his soul. His eyes opened, and they met mine. I didn’t look away this time. It seemed like something inside both of us made us kindred spirits at that moment.

Breaking the silence, I asked, “Is what I’m doing hurting?”

He had winced slightly while staring at me. “Yeah. That gaze… there’s something in it that’s hitting me in the heart, girl. Don’t do that shit.”

I frowned. “Mister Henderson, I’m talking about your ankle.”

He licked his lips and just stared at me. My insides quivered, so I turned away from him. I wasn’t sure what he was doing to me, but I had to reel my emotions back in. The lump in my throat was threatening to choke the hell out of me. I began moving his foot slightly, and I felt him tense up. “Relax, Mister Henderson.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

I frowned as I thought about the therapy I went through after sustaining a torn ACL. That woman worked my last nerve, but she got my shit back right. She was tough, and I was attempting to be the same way with Mr. Henderson. The problem was that I wanted to kiss his soft looking lips. I’d been on my celibacy journey for nearly three years, and I found that it made me better. I was able to focus more on myself and the things I wanted out of life.

I could feel him relax under my touch. When he did, I said, “You relaxing is about trusting me as your therapist. I want to get you back to normal, but I can’t do that if you won’t trust me.”

“Shiiiid, you must gon’ work magic. I’m just accepting this shit as my new normal.”

I turned back to him, because I felt like he was talking about more than just the physical. What I saw in his eyes said I was right. He leaned forward slightly as he stared at me. I quickly turned my attention back to his ankle. “Have you thought about seeing a counselor or psychiatrist?”

“I talk to my cousin a lot. She’s in school for psychology. She’s always been able to calm me down and help me see the bigger picture. We haven’t talked in a couple of days though. It was her brother that I was protecting. I feel like that shit was all my fault. I feel like they think that too, although they won’t say.”

“Who is they?”

“My family, mainly Karima, her brothers, and her parents. I fucked up.”

I didn’t mean for him to start talking to me about what his issues were, but since he felt comfortable doing so, I didn’t stop him. He sounded tortured. His voice had gotten softer, and it was like I could feel the emotion in it.

“Why do you think that?” I asked as I lifted his leg and bent it, pushing his knee toward his chest.

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