I rub my face close the door and flick on the kettle, taking two cups out the cupboard I place them on the kitchen side. One is my mug a crematic grey the other is a sourpuss pink one. “Take a seat.” I sigh and she walks over there in a huff taking off her jacket and placing it on her legs with her hat atop that while she fiddles with it.
“Why haven’t you talked to me, Eric? I thought you were going to be at my promotion ceremony, my birthday. Have I done anything wrong?” Her voice breaks and cracks a little, she’s almost crying now, she gives the same look my brother gives when I told him I didn’t know him. My brother has the wish that I would at least remember him because we were so close.
“I got injured... In combat.” I let the words slowly flow out my mouth, every time I say my situation it doesn’t make it easier. It makes it more real. She stands up her jacket and hat falling onto the floor. Her tears becoming more apparent now which is making me want to tear up.
“W-why… Why didn’t you tell me?” She begins using her sleeve to try and wipe them away, I ignore the drinks for now and hug her. “That doesn’t mean you get to ignore me!” She cries out, she probably has waited for ages for me to message her, all those feelings turning bitterness, regret, disparity and breaking her self-confidence. “You promised! You promised that… That you wouldn’t…” Her sobs heave into my chest. I hear the door unlocking and my brother Dominic peers in, I shrug in response and he slowly closes the door behind him leaving me alone with a crying woman I don’t know.
Please don’t arrest me, please don’t arrest me… I would have preferred an actual legal problem over a personal vendetta.
I hear the electric kettle click off when it’s finished boiling, but now is not the time for that. “How long have you been home since getting injured?” Her voice is almost steady now, slightly trembling, I pat her head noticing she’s a full head height shorter than me, maybe a bit more.
I guide her down sitting and I sit next to her, I hold her hands and look into her eyes. I’m going to tell her as clearly and as cleanly possible. “For two months I was in a coma.” Her eyes went wide and she bit her lip to stop herself from probably hitting me, probably trying to get the rest of the story out of me. “When I woke up I was told I have a form of PTSD, that’s suppressing all my memories. But now they’re thinking its brain damage, I can’t remember anything beyond waking up eight months ago, no dreams, no deja vu. Not anything, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t look at her at the last part, I don’t know what kind of relationship the previous Eric had with her, but that’s long gone now.
“You don’t remember me?” I shook my head at her, her voice is breaking by the end of those four words. “Anything?” She sounded desperate and I pull her into another hug.
“Look, I am not the Eric you knew before. I look like him, but I’m not. I understand if you never want to see me again, to forget about me like I forgot you and that’s okay.” I whisper into her ear and she breaks away from me.
“That’s not happening!” He yells at my face holding my cheeks. Her eyes are red and puffy, tears flowing down her face. I don’t know what I did but she slaps me. “Get that defeatist look off your face!” I probably smirked at her unknowingly.
“You know, don’t you usually have to be at work by a certain time?” I try and think of a sly way to get her out my apartment, she looks at her watch and smirks back.
“I’m doing my morning rounds, just happened to be checking up on a friend.” She starts putting her jacket back on and places her hat under her arm. “I’ll be back.” She opens the door and almost slams it behind her.
I think to myself, for awhile trying to piece together bits and pieces of the storm that just came through my apartment. Shit, I don’t even know her name.
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Sorry about the long away time, but we should be back to regular updates now.
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