Officially Blake's

CHAPTER 63

Once again, I nodded. I turned around but by the time I was about to walk away, I froze in place because he suddenly took my hand. It was a simple gesture, you know. I mean… friends… they hold hands sometimes right? And schoolmates… sometimes they do right?

Who am I kidding? This simple gesture shot tingles up my spine. I was actually surprised I did not collapse on the ground. But when I thought this Matthew-holding-my-hand thing could be my weakness right now, I was wrong. Of course, I was wrong.

“Stay for a while,” he said, his voice barely audible; just a little bit above a whisper.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach as my heart drummed ever s loudly it could jump out of my body anytime. He told me to stay for a while. I did not want to think about wrong things but what he said was not really what he wanted to say. It was not about me staying in his room longer. It was about me staying in his life for a little more while.

The thought hurt me… and it scared me because there were a lot of possibilities. It’s possible that he saved me so I could save him, too. It’s possible that he saved me and I’d thank him then walk away forever. It’s possible that we could be together.

Weird as it may sound… but it’s all possible.

I closed my eyes before then turned my head to look at our joined hands. I looked at his face and was surprised to see him smiling at me. He actually smiled at me. It looked as if it was the first time I saw him smile. I couldn’t help but mirror his expression.

“Will you…” he said. “stay for a longer while?”

Abruptly, I nodded. He squeezed my hand before letting go. He sat down and rested his back against the headboard. I did the same beside him. I could not see his face but somehow, I sensed that he was still grinning.

“I smell so bad,” I said, breaking the ice.

He chuckled. It sounded new to me, his chuckle. But then again, everything’s going to be new from now on.

“You do,” he agreed.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or to hit him back with an insult. I shot him a glare, but in the end, I laughed along with him.

“Can you tell me about yourself?” I asked him, preparing myself for a negative answer. The question made the atmosphere less light and more serious.

He looked at me before retorting, “Sure. You ask questions, I answer.” Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “But,” he pressed, raising a finger. “I get to ask you some questions, too.”

I didn’t argue, just shrugged. Face to face, I asked him, “What’s your full name?”

He pursed his lips before answering, “Matthew James Tyler Hawkings.”

I was a bit astonished to hear his middle name. If it was Tyler then—

“You don’t have a Filipino blood?”

“No, but Tracy does. She’s just my half sister.” He shrugged.

I was only about to ask who Tracy was when he continued, “And because of that, I get to ask you two questions.”

I groaned. “Alright. Fire away!”

“What’s your full name and when’s your birthday?” his jaw tightened as he turned serious.

I gulped. “Nicolle…Nicolle Lopez Lee.” I smiled, feeling proud of myself. After all, it is a big achievement when a person with Alzheimer’s Disease could remember something. Right, right?

He nodded and smiled at me, proudly. “And your birthday?”

I bit my lips so they would stop quivering. My hands clenched into fists on my lap. He settled his warm hand on top of mine. “I don’t remember,” I confessed, panic building inside of me. I was trying hard to rake my brain for memory… anything about my birthday. Was I born in January, February, March?! I don’t know. And I hate that I don’t because right now I feel so dumb. I feel so incomplete.