Officially Blake's

CHAPTER 59

"I'm going to sleep now. You can wake me up if you want to."

Again, he didn't answer, just kept on driving. I gripped the strap of my seatbelt and stole a glance of him before I settled my head on the backrest and tried to catch a nap. 

And maybe with a little luck, I would wake up and realize this was all just a bad dream. 

I tried to but I couldn't sleep. How could I when guilt was eating me alive? I was guilty for running away from my family... I was guilty for telling Blake all those things... most of all, I was guilty for bringing this guy big trouble. 

"Can't sleep?" I heard him ask. Slowly, I opened my eyes. The sudden light stabbed my eyes. 

I shook my head before facing him fully. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were turning white. 

I gulped. 

And as if reading the question in my mind, he said, "I'm not mad. Just worried."

"About yourself, I know."

"I'm worried about you," he countered flatly, like it meant nothing to him. He looked so serious, like even the best comedian in the world couldn't make him smile. 

He looked so serious... and mysterious... and scary. 

And yeah, he looked so worried. 

I found myself smiling, realizing that he was worried about me... a desperate girl begging a guy to runaway with him.

"Thank you," I said, truthfully. 

He only nodded. And for the first time today, I felt secured. 

The whole drive was quiet, no words were spoken. No words needed to be anyway. 

I kept my eyes closed until I felt the car stop. 

"Here," was his short statement. I opened my eyes and blinked rapidly. 

I removed the seatbelt and stepped down the car. A house half the size of ours greeted my eyes. 

"Not that big," he told me. "I don't live there anyway so you could stay there," he said as he shut the car door closed. 

He walked towards the front door and opened it. We both stepped in. I took a moment to admire just how simple this house was. 

Just a few furniture. The dining table was small, and so was the sofa. The TV was not flat screen and there were two doors leading to maybe a bedroom and a bathroom. 

"Kitchen's over there," he said as he pointed to the door behind us. "That's gonna be your room. The other's the bathroom."

Ignoring his statement, I asked, "Where’s this place?" 

"A few kilometers from D."

"How long have we been traveling then?" I questioned him as I took a look around the den. 

"Roughly five hours, with the stopovers. And I brought you some clothes. Everything you need. Food and some—“"

My eyes widened. I shot him a look of disbelief. "You serious?" 

He shot his eyebrows up. 

"Oh, yeah. You're really serious.”

"I gotta go," he told me as he started walking towards the door. 

"Wait, you're gonna leave me?" I asked, disbelief obvious in my tone. 

"Look, I've already wasted enough time with you. I need to find Sam."

I was hurt... not because he told me I basically wasted his time... but because he was leaving me to find another girl. 

I know it's weird... and it really is... but I somehow felt this kind of attraction towards him.

I felt like I wanted him to be on my side... I felt it... I swear, I did. 

And it confused every part of me. 

Made me doubt my feelings for Blake. 

"Who's Sam?" was all I could ask. I had every urge to ask him if I really wasted his time or is he really mad at me or is he concerned about me? The questions were at the tip of my tongue, but somehow, I managed to lock them inside of me. 

"Samantha. She was your friend. You call her Krungy. And she was Luke's ex-girlfriend."

I frowned, understanding crossing my face. Sure, she was familiar but the memories were vague. AD, remember? I chuckled inwardly at the thought. Not even sixty but I’m bound to forget everything. 

"You sound so concerned about her. Is she your girlfriend now? And she calls you Matt not Matthew,"

"Surprisingly, you remember what she calls me." He smirked. "She’s not my girlfriend," he answered my question. 

I did not know why, but I sighed in relief. 

"Just my friend." 

I nodded in relief. Again, it felt so weird being relieved that he was not in a romantic relationship with that girl Samantha.  "Well, you go find her. I think I'm gonna be okay here."

I smiled at him, hoping that this smile would mask all the pain and confusions that were eating me alive from the inside. 

He only looked at me, his eyes boring a hole through my face. It was as if he was reading my mind. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity staring at each other, he looked away from me. 

"I think you need me here," he said. 

"I thought—“"

"I said you need me here. Let's eat dinner then you get some rest. Tomorrow you'll wake up screaming, wondering where you are... looking for Blake. You'll forget about this tomorrow. If not tomorrow, maybe the next day or the next or the next. I don’t know. But you'll forget about this... I'm sure of it."

"No!" I shouted. "I'm done forgetting! I don’t wanna forget. I don't wanna live in lies anymore."

He let out a breath. "Then how are you going to do that?" he asked me. 

I walked closer to him. "I think I left my phone back in the hospital. I’m gonna have to borrow yours."

Without asking why, he gave me his phone. I went to the video camera, and started recording myself. 

"What are you doing p?" he asked me.

"Making a way to remember."

I took a deep breath. "Today, I found out that I have Alzheimer's disease and multiple sclerosis. I was okay with that... but then I found out that my family had been lying to me... my boyfriend, Blake Pierre Perez had been lying to me about my condition, too."

I looked down then back to the camera.

"I told him to stay away from me... and then I ran away with Matthew Hawkings"-I directed the camera to him-"This guy. And I should thank him. Do this again, Nicolle. Tomorrow. Do this everyday... just in case you forget. "

If I didn't sniff, I'll never realize I was crying. Matthew Hawkings took the phone and said, "You know, for a dumbass like you... that's a smart move, I'll give you that." He shrugged. 

"Don't delete it," I pleaded. 

"Won't." He looked at me once again before saying, "Get some rest. Think you're too tired to eat." 

"How about Samantha?" I asked, worried about the redhead. 

"She'll be alright," he replied, quickly. "She's not stupid... like you."

I smiled a sad smile. Whatever he thinks of me, deep inside my heart, matters. He thinks that I'm stupid... it hurts like hell. 

Because, now, I know that Matthew Hawkings is the only one here for me. 

Because now, I know that Matthew Hawkings matters to me.