Page 97 of Amnesia

“Yeah, I get that.”

She nodded. “That’s how I felt. I wanted to remember. I try every single day. Having an empty mind is greater than that sense of relief. Dr. Kline told me my amnesia was my mind’s way of protecting me. After today, I know she’s right.”

Cupping the side of her face, I leaned up, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek.

She turned into it and smiled.

“I don’t want to remember any more, Eddie. I’m terrified of what lives inside my own head.”

I had no idea how to protect her from that. From herself. “I wish I knew how to keep the memories out of your head, sweetheart. If I knew, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“I know a way,” she said, looking straight into me with her deep eyes.

Grasping the ends of the blanket, I tugged her near. “I’ll do it,” I vowed quietly, resting my forehead against hers. “Anything that will put your mind at ease.”

“Give me agoodmemory, something to combat the dark when it comes. In case it comes back.”

Leaning forward, I kissed her swiftly, then pulled back. “You mean our Lobster Shack date that landed you in the ER wasn’t good enough?” I scoffed. Then I muttered, “I better up my game.”

Amnesia smiled, a smile wide enough it showed her teeth. “Well, thatwasa good day… up until the ER part.”

I grunted. I had some making up to do. Majorly. Filling her mind with memories so happy definitely seemed like a good way to fight back the bad.

After all, the only thing strong enough to battle hate was love.

Outside, wind gusted and the rain shifted, splattering harder against the windows and side of the house.

Her voice cut through the peaceful sounds the way a tornado rips through a small town. “I remembered being raped.”

My body stiffened and without meaning to, I jolted upright. Am began to tumble backward off my lap, but her arms came out to grasp me.

“Shit,” I spat, pulling her back into me, my body still rigid. “I’m sorry,” I swore and kissed the side of her head.

“I didn’t know how else to say it besides spitting it out,” she replied apologetically.

“Don’t apologize, Am,” I growled. “Not ever.”

She fell silent.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” I groaned, leaning back, pulling her with me. “I wish I’d been there. I wish my fourteen-year-old self had been quicker, stronger… something.”

“I don’t actually remember the act… or the way it felt. I don’t feel…” She paused, weighing her words. “Damaged from it, if that makes sense.”

“Because you can’t remember?”

She nodded against me. “I just remember knowing what was coming, like it wasn’t the first time… I’d been dreading it. And yeah, I’m horrified, but the memory went away as quick as it began.”

I whispered her name, sort of like a prayer.

“I think I might have passed out. When I woke up, I was lying on the shower floor. The water had run cold.”

Clutching her against me, I combated the rage and sickness warring inside me. So much emotion welled up, so much hate and sorrow.

“That’s why I’m so scared,” she confided, tucking her hand between her body and mine. “I’m so afraid the next memory will be of the actual act, and it will change me. If I start remembering the things he did to me, of the way I was abused…” She pushed up, her eyes pleading and damp. “I won’t be the same. I won’t be like I am now. Yes, I’m damaged… but that girl I was before… I think she might have been destroyed.”

What could a man say? What did he say when the woman he loved, the woman he was admittedly obsessed with, told him she could change in the blink of an eye? That a monster once did things so horrendous to her she’d rather live knowing only a few weeks of her life rather than reclaiming all the years she had before.

I couldn’t fix this. I couldn’t fix her. I wasn’t there. I hadn’t been strong enough that night to prevent it. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough now. What if I wasn’t enough? What if nothing was?

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