Page 57 of Help Me Remember

“Hey,” he said quietly, squeezing my hand. “We’ve already gotten this far, and I haven’t lost faith in you yet. Whatever you’re going to say, I doubt you’re going to make me lose it now.”

“I realized, or I knew, when I showed up that last time, that all the time we’d been friends, I had more than just platonic feelings for you,” I told him, staring down at our hands rather than up at his face. “I’d figured it out by then, not just that I was bi, but that I had probably been crazy about you well before I left Port Dale for parts unknown.”

I could still feel it, the understanding. A lot of the dreams tied to what I remembered were still blurry and out of focus, but I was getting at least the gist of what was there. I had more or less come to the understanding that I’d been in love with Eric for most of our friendship while at school.

“And when I came here for that surprise visit, I watched you for a little while before I let you know I was there. I saw you and realized I was still in love with you, which made it all the more important to keep everything to myself. That you’d never know how I felt or what I was getting into. I could keep all that and hold on to it, but I had to accept that my time and chance had long passed.”

“You really thought,” Eric said in a tight voice, though I didn’t dare look up to see his expression, “that would be enough? That it would be okay?”

“No,” I said simply. “Not okay, but enough? It had to be enough. That’s what I thought at the time. It had to be enough, or I was going to be lost.”

“I wish you didn’t have a potential head injury right now because I want to slap the shit out of you,” he growled at me.

“I deserve it, even with the injury.”

“Do not play the martyr.”

“I’m not,” I snapped, finally looking up to stare him in the face. His bottom lip trembled, but his gaze remained steady as he stared at me stubbornly. “I caused you pain, and even if it turns out that I’ll stand by that decision, it doesn’t mean I’m not sorry I did it. So if you want to take it out on me, you’re well within your rights. That’s how justice works.”

Eric snatched his hand away, and I braced for the blow, only to flinch when he flicked my nose. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Ow,” I complained as the sting spread across my face, and I covered my nose protectively. “That actually stung.”

“Good,” Eric said, leaning closer. “Because what you described isn’t justice, it’s vengeance. And I might have had to deal with things these past few days that I would never have wanted to deal with and had to do things I thought I could leave in my past, but that doesn’t mean I’ve changed. I don’t do vengeance, revenge, bloody justice, whatever you want to call it.”

“Not above a little payback, though,” I grumbled, a little offended that he’d flicked my nose like some misbehaving house pet.

“That was to get your attention and make you stop being so goddamn morose,” he huffed at me, reaching out to take my face in his hands. “Look, I’m not happy about how you handled things, and I desperately wish you’d done things differently. I’m not sure what’s waiting for us in the future, but I know you…and I know I’ve loved you since I was like…fifteen, and that hasn’t stopped. I realized that’s still true even after you showed up randomly in my life at the clinic, even with your memory all but gone.”

“You have terrible taste in men,” I told him, my words becoming distorted as he made a point to squish my face.

“I’ve loved you for years, and I don’t think that will stop easily. And I’ve known you for years and want to keep knowing you. You’re still the man I knew before, and that’s why I will keep believing in you, even if you won’t believe in yourself, okay?” Eric asked me softly, finally easing up on squeezing my face so I could speak properly.

“Okay,” was all I said. I was glad he hadn’t asked me to start believing in myself because I would have been forced to lie or tell the truth again. Just the echoes of my memories were enough to make me tired at the thought of lying to him anymore. And at least this way, I could hang on to the fact that someone who cared about me still believed in me, even when I couldn’t.

“Good,” he said and kissed me.

I had been half expecting it, but that didn’t stop me from freezing when his lips pressed against mine. Then I felt his fingers slide down my face and across my neck, sending little tingles of pleasure and anticipation through me. I reached over, ignoring the twinge in my side as I pulled him closer, flush against my uninjured side.

Warmth rushed through me as Eric wrapped his arms around my neck, making himself comfortable. I took my time, slowly dragging my hands down his back, feeling every shift of muscle beneath his shirt. I breathed deeply, caught the scent of soap on him, and realized he’d taken a shower at some point while I was unconscious.

“I would love to continue,” I told him softly. “But as clean as you smell, I’m probably covered in dirt, blood, and sweat.”

He smiled, sliding back off the bed. “You’re allowed to shower.”

“I don’t know,” I said, scooting toward the edge of the bed and testing how my body felt as I pushed myself to my feet. I was a little stiff, and my side ached noticeably, but I could get around on my own. “You look like you could use another one.”

Eric only chuckled as he took me by the arm and led me out of the room into a dark hallway. Before I could see much more than a few other sparsely decorated rooms, he pulled me into a bathroom equipped with everything we’d need, including a large, walk-in shower.

“Not a house for people who like baths,” I noted, reaching out to turn on the light.

Eric stopped me, motioning toward the window next to the shower. It had a plastic sheet for a curtain, pulled down to block out the light. “Don’t. This house is supposed to be empty, remember? I haven’t used the lights because I don’t want to attract attention. I’ve got candles.”

“Okay,” I said, looking around as he busied himself. “But there’s running water and electricity?”

“We’re in a nicer part of Port Dale. Companies will happily foot the bill if it means showing off how the house might look to potential buyers.” He dragged out a bag of tealight candles from under the sink and began lighting them. “These will give us enough light to see but shouldn’t attract attention so long as the curtain’s closed.”

“Sure,” I said because, apparently, one-word answers were all I could manage, especially when I saw him tug off his socks and unbutton his jeans.

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