Page 42 of Forget Me Not

Present Day

I wake up in her bed. Alone. If it wasn’t for the hot pink furry pillow stuck to the side of my face, I’d have thought maybe I was dreaming. Maybe she was still just a dream. But this pillow is definitely real, so Cooper has to be as well. She’s just not here. Which begs the question, where did she go?

I sit up, spitting polyester pink threads to keep from choking on them. It doesn’t pay to sleep with your mouth open.

“Cooper?” I call out, still grabbing at my tongue with my fingertips, trying to grasp a rogue thread.

She comes whipping out from behind a corner, a towel in her hands, drying her wet hair.

“Did I wake you?” She cringes. “I totally did. I knew it as soon as I dropped my brush on the tile floor. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. Or rather do be. Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” I ask, strolling up to her and placing my hands on her warm body just as soon as she’s within reach. I feel better already. I don’t even care about the irritating sensation in the back of my throat which can only be caused by fake pink fur.

The towel hangs limp at her side as her hips push into me and she grins sheepishly. “You just looked so adorable, I couldn’t do it.”

I roll her back and forth between my palms and fingertips, swaying her body from side to side and enjoying the friction the soft skin of her exposed tummy creates against my own. “Alright then, new question. What are you doing up and about so early?”

She tips her head back, looking up at me surprised. “I have work to do. My shop won’t open itself.” She laughs. It’s by far the best laugh I think I’ve ever heard. My sister has a fun laugh. Quirky, almost strange, the sort of laugh that makes you crack up just hearing it, but Cooper’s is downright melodic. Gives a whole new meaning to the term music to my ears.

“Cooper Ceramics. That’s right.” I want to guess what she sells most of, what her specialty item is. Mugs? Vases? Fancy Tea pots. I want to guess and be right because I should be able to do that, I should just know. But I don’t. I don’t have a fucking clue. If I hadn’t known before coming here she had Cooper Ceramics, I never would have pegged her for being an artist; for crafting something with her own two hands. And I realize this is part of the reality. Our reality. You can’t miss seven years with someone and still expect to know every aspect of their lives inside and out. But I feel like I should. Because being with her doesn’t feel like I’ve spent seven years without her. It just feels right. Like we’ve always been this way. Always been us.

“What about you?” she asks, pulling me from my train of thought.

“I don’t have a shop.”

She smacks my arm playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“Family business.” I reach down to take her hand, sliding my fingers in and out of hers. I’m obsessed with touching her. Feeling her. For so long she was barely a tangible thought, and now she’s here. It’s like part of me is scared she’ll float away again, get lost in the mess of my missing memories.

“You went to work with your dad?” Her bottom lip curls in on one side and she bites down on it. Like she’s trying to hide a frown.

“Why? Was that not always the plan?” Because that’s the version I heard. The only version. From everyone. All I ever wanted to be while growing up, was just like my dad, running the family business one day. I’m not quite there yet, but I’ve definitely got the ball rolling. And, I like it well enough. Not to mention, there are perks that come with being the boss’s kid. Like unlimited vacation time when you decide to run out on your wedding to track down your long-lost love instead.

She shrugs. “It wasn’t not the plan.” She turns away and I get the feeling there’s more she’s not telling me.

“Hey, come back here,” I mumble, tugging at the hand I still have curled around my fingers. “What don’t you want to say? Because you probably should. In fact, I’d really appreciate if you did. You may be the first person I’ve spoken to that I can completely trust about the me I was before...I became the me I am now.”

She sighs, an exceptionally long sigh. Then, she takes an equally long breath of air back in to replenish her body’s oxygen supply, which after that sigh was probably wiped out.

“Your dad always wanted you to take over the business. It was his dream. Not yours.” She looks up at me and I see sadness and even pity mingling in her eyes. “It’s part of the reason we were eloping. To start our own adventure. To give you a chance to find your own dream.”

It takes a second for the words to settle. Even once they do, I’m not sure how I feel about them. If what she’s saying is true, my family hasn’t just been avoiding things they thought were too painful to face, as my sister would have me believe. They’ve straight out lied to me. Manipulated me in a time when I was vulnerable and completely at their mercy. I’m not sure I’m ready to consider this a possibility yet. Though, I can tell from the look on her face, it’s exactly the conclusion she’s drawn about them.

Cooper

“Are you happy?” I ask, doing my best to smile and reassure him. Just because it wasn’t what he’d wanted before the accident doesn’t mean it hasn’t suited him perfectly ever since. It’s just hard not to jump to negative conclusions after all I went through with his family. His parents especially. They hated me. Before we ever even met face to face, they hated me. I don’t foresee that changing anytime in the future. Especially now.

“I thought I was.” His tone is quiet and unsure and his shoulders sag ever so slightly, signaling a sense of defeat. “Then, I found you. And all the things I thought were perfectly fine, suddenly don’t seem perfect or fine at all. Except you.”

My heart aches for him. It’s strange, seeing him so lost. Reed was never lost. Even when he didn’t know where he was headed, he always knew exactly where he was. Who he was. And being with him, it made me feel like I was some place too. Not just a no name girl in a system overflowing with kids who didn’t matter, didn’t count. Who had a better chance of winding up dead or in jail than they ever had a chance at a real future. A real life. Reed was my anchor. It’s tragically poetic and strangely just that I would get to be his now.

“I’m not perfect,” I remind him, though knowing he truly believes it brings an undeniable smile to my face. “And most days I’m far from fine. It just seems that way because you’re here. You make things fine for me, too.” I cup his cheek in my hand, the soft bristles of his hair brushing against the inside of my palm. “Let’s just take it one day at a time for now. See what feels good. What feels right. You lost your entire life in the course of one night and were handed a very basic blueprint to rebuild. Let’s scrap the plans and just wing it. Forget worrying about who you were before. Who do you want to be now?”

He turns his face into my hand and kisses it gently. “I want to be the man you choose today and every day for the rest of your life. Whoever that is, that’s who I want to be.”

“You’re already that man,” I say, forcing out a sadness which continues to leak through every time I’m reminded of the choice I’ve made. Reed. Over Gun. An impossible choice. And while the sentiment behind being chosen day after day seems romantic, it’s also the only way I can make it. One day at a time. Because I can get through the day without Gun. But I can’t face a lifetime the same way. And deep down, I know that. I just don’t know what to do about it.

My thoughts begin to spiral when I feel his forehead resting on mine.

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