Page 22 of Forgetting You, Forgetting Me

“Lucy, there’s something about Samuel you need to know.” His stern tone has me gulping, a thousand angry butterflies taking flight within my belly.

“What do I need to know?” When he too pauses, I crack. “What’s going on?” My loud tone interrupts the chatter from the bed, and I can sense all eyes are on me.

“Samuel has awoken, but…” However, Dr. Kepler doesn’t have a chance to finish because a hoarse voice has my entire body breaking out into tiny goose bumps.

“Get over here. I missed you.”

I’ve heard Sam speak countless times before, but those six words are the most important words I’ve ever heard him say.

Kellie smiles, but it’s bittersweet.

“If you’ll excuse me, Doctor, my fiancé needs me,” I say, brushing off everyone’s peculiar behavior because all that matters is being in Sam’s arms.

I politely push past Dr. Kepler, my eyes focusing on Sam. The moment he sees me, he smiles, his trademark dimple hugging his cheek. Tears prick my eyes because I never thought this day would ever come.

“Oh, Samuel.” I try and keep the emotion from my voice, but I can’t. I’m just so happy to see him.

I take a step forward but abruptly freeze, as my brain is unable to process what the next thirty seconds entails. Sam’s smile broadens and he sits up higher, motioning with his hand that I come closer. But when his gaze skates over my shoulder, I know he’s not gesturing to me, he’s gesturing to Saxon, who stands in the doorway.

I remain motionless, feeling selfish, as of course he’d want to see Saxon. He hasn’t seen him in over a year. But what about me? Isn’t he happy to see me? Have I done something wrong?

“Excuse me.” I look up, not realizing my gaze is glued to the ground until Sam addresses me. “Could you please move? My brother is trying to get past.”

My mouth opens and closes as I don’t know what to say. I numbly step to the side while Saxon enters the room. I’m surprised when he stops and stands beside me. When he lightly rubs my shoulder, it appears he too is in on a secret I’m not privy to.

Sam smirks, the sight shattering my already broken heart into irreparable pieces. “Come give your baby brother a hug. Since when have you had long hair? And tattoos? You bad motherfucker!”

The walls begin closing in on me and I’m finding it hard to breathe. I need to know what is happening. No matter how painful, I know something is wrong.

“Samuel?” My voice is small, weak, pathetic—it’s a plea that he acknowledges me.

Sam’s gaze swings my way, and that’s when I can see it. His once familiar, loving eyes are now blank, filled with emptiness and…nothing.

No, cruel fate, no—not again.

Stepping closer and closer, I rush to Samuel’s bedside, reaching for his hand and brushing his fingers over my face. “Samuel, it’s me, Lucy.”

When his warm fingers trace over my cheek, down my jaw and then outlining the curve of my lips, a ray of hope beams bright and I scold myself for thinking such irrational thoughts. But when his hand drops to his side, the detachment clear, a tear breaks past the floodgates and I choke back a silent sob.

His expression turns gentle, but his stare is teeming with pity. The old Samuel would comfort me, tell me not to cry. But that old Samuel is dead. This person may look like my Sam, but it’s not Sam at all. As another tear slashes at my flesh, he shifts uncomfortably and says, “I’m sorry, but I have no idea who you are.”

* * * * *

May 1st 2008

Dear diary,

Today, Sam and I had our first real fight. It was awful.

Piper said it was long overdue, seeing as we’ve been together for over three years. She was hopeful I would break it off, but it surprised me that she didn’t press the issue.

We’ve had disagreements, but never a full blown screaming match like we had today.

It all started when I heard about an internship in Ghana. The Humanitarian Peace Foundation is an organization I admire, and when this opportunity arose, I jumped at the chance to gain a hands-on career experience and discover what it’s like to live and work abroad. The internship was for eight weeks, and I had three days to decide if I wanted to go or not.

I discussed it with Mom and Dad, who of course supported me 100%. They would help with the costs, as my wage at Starbucks would barely cover it. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to tell Samuel. The drive over to his house was filled with mental preparation, as I was to leave in ten days.

I bounded up the stairs, unable to contain my excitement as I burst into his room. He was hunched over his desk, surrounded by marketing textbooks. The moment he spun around in his chair to face me, I ran over and perched in his lap.

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