Page 66 of Forget Me Not

“Not going to be easy when one of us is always looking back,” I say quietly, taking the bag and placing it on the floor beside Cooper’s cowgirl boots. She hasn’t worn them since she got here. Just keeps shuffling around the hospital in those slippers they gave her. I can’t wait to see her put her boots back on. Can’t wait to hear the sound they make when she strolls along the corridors of this place, finally walking out of it.

“So, stop walking behind her.”

Huh?

“I don’t even know what that means. What does that mean, Mags?”

She reaches in her pocket and pulls out a candy bar. “Chocolate?”

“I don’t want chocolate.”

She shrugs and tears the wrapper. “What do you want?”

“Like, at this moment? In life? For dinner? What?”

She smirks. “What the hell, sure. I was asking what you want for dinner.”

I throw both arms up, frustrated with her and her asinine comments and questions. I’ve never met a more exhausting person in my entire life, and I’ve spend most of it withCooper. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Listen, if you don’t know what you want for dinner, I don’t know that you’re ready to tackle the big shit like life and Coop.” She pauses. “Oh, wait. Those are like, the same thing. And one answers the other and vice versa. Never mind. How about pizza?”

My brain is bleeding. “What?!”

“For dinner. Pizza would be easy. Just have it delivered. You’re not going to want to cook tonight anyway.”

My shoulders sag in surrender. “Sure. Yeah. Pizza works.”

She holds her half-eaten candy bar toward me for the second time. “Sure you don’t want chocolate?”

“What. Is. Wrong. With. You?” I growl under my breath, reminding myself over and over that she’s Mr. B’s sister. And that Cooper loves her.

“Nothing is wrong with me,” she states, sounding a lot like a crazy person doped up on their happy meds. Then she sighs dramatically before shoving the rest of her chocolate into her mouth and chewing it with an angry sort of force. One gigantic gulp later and her mouth opens again. “If you’re not going to take my candy, I guess you’re going to be stuck taking my advice. It’s good shit, but it’s not nearly as enjoyable as chocolate. So, keep that in mind next time you’re in an emotional pickle and I come wandering along.” She grabs my arm and drags me over to Cooper’s empty hospital bed, plopping me down on it before I have a chance to protest.

“No one is ever going to love our girl better than you love her. You set the bar exceedingly high and even the likes of Reed McAllister can’t reach it.”

“If that were true, we wouldn’t be here, having this conversation,” I interrupt.

“Did I look like I was done to you? Was my mouth shut? Was I patiently waiting for your response?” she demands sternly and I’m too scared to answer. “You think it’s more comfortable to walk out of here today, accepting that you’re her second choice. That she couldn’t have Reed, but she can depend on you, she’s safe with you. And that’s bullshit.” Her pointer finger is so far up my face I could lose an eye if I make any sudden moves. “You’renother second choice.You, are the choice she’s never had to make. And until you let her make it, neither of you is ever going to know the difference.”

She snags her purse out of the chair near the wall, her spare finger flying out at me once more. “Don’t want her looking back? Stop lurking around in her fucking shadow. Reed isn’t the one she’s looking for. Never has been. The only reason she stumbled onto him in the first place is because you’re too busy hiding from her. Knock that shit off.”

“That’s your closing statement? ‘Knock that shit off’?”

She nods. “Yep. That, and eat more chocolate. When all else fails, feed some to her.”

Then she marches out of the room, the squeaky split-splat of her flip flops following behind her down the hall until she disappears completely in the noise of this place.

The only thing still lingering, are her ridiculous words of advice. And an inexplicable craving for chocolate.

Reed

Present Day

I lift my hand to knock, but nothing happens. Hasn’t happened the last three times I tried either. I got myself here, to her front door. I can raise my fist, align my knuckles, I just can’t seem to make them connect with the wood. Until I do, I’ll be stuck out here. Stuck in limbo. Maybe I’m more afraid of leaving the familiar in between than I am of actually facing what’s behind this door. Her. Us.The end.

My hand is still hovering in the air, slightly shaky now, when the door swings open and Cammie nearly collides with my fist face first.

“Whoa, dude,” she calls out, ducking just in time.

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