Page 87 of Forgetting You, Forgetting Me

Sam nods with a grin. “Yeah, we were. We got up to some crazy shit.”

His comment cements my worst fears. “So you remember her, but you don’t remember me?” My voice is raised, but I don’t care. I’m sure everyone is talking about it behind my back anyway.

Alicia raises a hand to her gaping mouth, muting a giggle. “You don’t remember her?” I close my eyes for a second, cursing my temper.

Sam scratches the back of his neck, pulling an uncomfortable face. “Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose.”

He appears genuinely repentant, but it’s too late.

Alicia purses her collagen pumped lips cruelly. “Oh, how sad. I guess you didn’t make enough of an impression to be remembered.”

Tears prick my eyes because no matter how spiteful her words are, they’re the truth. Sam dated Alicia for mere seconds compared to our relationship, but he seems to remember those trivial seconds quite clearly. But with me, with us, I may as well be a stranger, just how this room full of people are strangers to me.

“Excuse me,” I choke out, not giving Alicia the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Sam calls out to me, but he doesn’t follow. His actions confirm that he doesn’t care for me at all.

I shove past the partygoers, desperate to get to my room and forget this disaster of a night ever happened. But when I round the corner and see Saxon pushing a giggling Piper into his room, I know forgetting this night will be impossible. That image is forever charred into my brain. The door slams shut behind him, reflecting how my heart feels.

I amble down the hallway, feeling numb. When I enter the bedroom, I don’t even bother turning on the light. I walk blindly to my bed and collapse on top of it, face first. I sniff back my tears, as crying won’t change anything. It won’t change the fact that Samuel remembers his high school girlfriend, but not me. And it doesn’t change the fact that right this second, Saxon is probably having sex with my best friend.

Images of him taking off her beautiful red dress and laying her gently on the bed assaults my masochistic brain and I groan into the pillow. Then another image flashes behind my locked eyes of Saxon throwing her against the wall and devouring her whole. I don’t know why, but this image hurts the most. If Saxon were in love with Piper or even the slightest bit interested in her, then I wouldn’t care. But it feels like he’s doing this to get back at me. To hurt me.

But I scold myself for such thoughts. Saxon can have sex with whomever he wishes. He owes me nothing. After he’s done with Piper, he could rightfully seek out Sophia and go for round two. The thought makes me sick.

The bedroom door squeaking open puts an end to these god awful thoughts and I spring up, brushing the hair from my cheeks. Straining my eyes to see in the near dark, I’m hoping the figure illuminated by the hallway light is Saxon, but it’s not.

“Lucy?”

“Go away, Sam,” I groan, falling back onto the mattress. He’s the last person I want to see.

The door closes but his footsteps sounding off the hardwood floors tell me he’s not going anywhere. “No, I won’t. I really am sorry. I don’t know why I remember Alicia and not you, it’s not like I have a choice. From your diary entries, I know I should remember you, but I don’t. I’ve been so angry since I woke up, and I’ve blamed you for what happened to me because it’s always easier to blame a stranger than someone you—”

“Love?” I fill in the blanks when he pauses. It makes sense.

“I’m sorry, Lucy. I want to remember, I really do.”

“It’s fine, Sam. I know it’s not your fault. You can’t force love.” I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling, tears spilling from the corner of my eyes.

In a way, I’m glad Sam has explained his behavior. He woke, stuck in a universe where I don’t exist. I tried pushing my memories onto him, desperate for him to remember, but in turn, I ended up pushing him away. And by doing that, I pushed myself closer to Saxon.

I don’t realize what’s happening until Samuel is crawling onto me from the foot of the bed. I freeze, forgetting to breathe when I feel his weight settle on my body.

“Maybe we could make new memories?” he offers, his breath bathing my flesh. He lowers his lips to my neck and kisses over my frantic pulse.

The touch feels nice, but it doesn’t send a tingle to my toes. It doesn’t have me pawing at Sam, needing to feel him against every inch of my body.

“I know what you like. I read it in your diary,” he thickly says against my throat. “I read how you loved me touching you.” As if on cue, he runs his hand down between the valley of my breasts, slipping his fingers inside my plunging neckline. “I read how I was the only man who made you come.” I gasp, his fingertip circling my left nipple.

I’m struggling to breathe and I don’t know if I’m robbed of air because I’m turned on, or because I’m desperate to flee.

Sam flicks the front clasp on my bra, it peels away, uncovering my breasts. He doesn’t waste a second and replaces the cup with his palm. His hand is hot against my skin, his fondling feeling desperate and rushed.

“Sam,” I protest, attempting to push his hand away, but my plea dies in my throat when he sucks over my carotid pulse in a long, wet pull. I arch my head back, exposing more of my neck as this is one of my most favorite places to be kissed. I have no doubt Sam knows this because he read about it in my diary.

I should feel betrayed that he read so much of my personal thoughts, but as he continues cupping and kneading my breast, sucking on my neck as he slips a hand between my thighs, all I can think about is how long it’s been since he touched me like this.

I feel him growing hard against my stomach as he heats up the contact, circling over my core with two skillful fingers. My starved body is responsive to his touch and I whimper, needing more. Sam reads my desperation and quickens the speed of his fingers.

I need to stop this before it gets out of hand, but Sam’s hands all over me reveal that it’s too late. A niggling thought scratching at the surface seals my fate. Saxon is down the hall doing the exact thing to Piper. Why do I need to stop? Having sex with my fiancé may just be what I’ve needed to find my way through the storm and make things right again.

---