Page 116 of By the Pint

“I must warn you,” Nina continued. “He is not how you remember him.”

“I know,” I said, trying to put as much conviction into my voice as possible. Trying not to let it quaver as a fresh round of tears built behind my eyes.

“And you mustn’t mention anything that could trigger him. This includes bringing up anything from his human life.”

“Got it,” I said, my words almost failing me that time.

She led me into the suite and locked the door behind us. Then she promptly sat herself down on the sofa and held out an arm towards the bedroom. “Leave the door open.”

I observed her through narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. She was letting me go in alone? Was this standard procedure?

Casey was awake. Sitting, or at least as upright as possible whilst being strapped to a gurney. His gaze followed me as I approached his bed.

They had removed his filthy t-shirt and trousers — probably sent them off to be incinerated — and in their place, he wore a hospital gown. The tie-around-the-neck, open-at-the-back variety. It was black, withPROPERTY OF THE ASSEMBLY OF THE UNDEADprinted in white lettering repeatedly across it. As if it was in danger of being stolen.

He looked good though. His face had been washed, or more likely, wiped down. His hair, although now black, was its usual just-been-fucked messy perfection, his big arms flexed against the front of his gown.

“You’re him,” Casey said. It wasn’t a question. The timbre of his voice was exactly the same as it had been before the turning, and without warning, the tears I’d been holding back were free-falling. “You stand behind the glass. And watch me.”

I didn’t know if I could manage actual words, so I simply nodded.

“Why?”

I faltered. Because I love you. Because I’ve always loved you. And because even if you never remember me, I will continue to love you until the sun stops rising.

“Because I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” I said eventually. I wanted to ask him,Do you remember me? Do you realise how much I love you? What I would do for you? What we had?

“And am I okay?” he said.

“I … I think so.” I moved a step closer and made to perch on the end of his bed, next to his feet.

“Not too close,” Nina called from the other room, even though it was physically impossible for her to see what was happening.

“Are you a doctor too?” Casey asked, and my heart splintered into a million fragments.

He didn’t remember me.

Not that I was expecting him to.

Hoping, maybe.

That once he saw me, smelled me, touched me, it would come flooding back.

“Not a doctor.” The words squeezed past the most painful lump in my throat. “An entrepreneur, I guess.”

“What’s your name?” he asked.

I faltered.

“You can tell him,” Nina said.

“It’s Dima.” I wanted to touch him. So badly. I wanted to slot my fingers into his hair, bury my nose into his neck.

Casey remained passive. He gave no sign he recognised the name. Silently, I swiped my tears away with the back of my hand.

“What’s my name?” he added.

“It’s Casey. Casey Freckleman. But you can change it now if you like.”

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