Two Months Later
I clicked start on the washer, hearing the water start to flood the washing machine as our clothes began to spin in circles. I walked out of the laundry room, picking up the basket of freshly dried clothes on my way out. Once I got to the living room, I set the basket on the couch next to Chris with a smirk.
"I washed your clothes, you get to fold them." I chuckled.
He groaned playfully, before dumping out the clothes and setting to work.
I walked back to my room, where boxes littered my bed. Sighing, I kept folding clothes and packing up my belongings. Not long after I got out of the hospital and Motionless went on tour, Ricky asked me to move back in with him and I accepted the offer. I admit, I was going to miss Chris a lot. But Ricky and I were having a baby together, and were getting married right after it was born. I was currently three months pregnant and my bump was growing as each day passed. It was still pretty small, but an adorable small. Ricky wished he could stay home and watch the baby develop inside me instead of going on the short month long tour, but I made him go.
The first thing he did when he got back was hug and kiss me, then bend down and press a kiss to my stomach. I was excited for the baby, more than I was when I first found out. Ricky was going to make a great dad, and I hoped I'd make a great mom.
I shut one of the last boxes, taping it closed and sighing in relief that I was basically done. Ricky was coming to help me move my stuff back into his house tomorrow, and I was proud of staying with my goal and getting everything packed. I wiped my hand across my forehead, feeling sticky and sweaty. So I walked into my bathroom, stripped myself of my sweats and t-shirt, and hopped in the shower. I rinsed my hair and scrubbed shampoo into it, followed by conditioner. I washed my body with my new lavender scented soap, and was out in around ten minutes.
I dried off and walked to my closet, throwing on some skinny jeans that fit as long as the hem was below my belly, and a 'Black Veil Brides' t-shirt. I wasn't even certain when or where I got this, I just found it one day and it became my new favorite shirt during pregnancy. It was big, and when wearing it you couldn't tell I was pregnant.
I walked back out of my room, and into the kitchen to grab some water. I drank some as I walked into the living room, sitting down on the new love seat Chris added.
"So what are you watching exactly?"
"Elephants giving birth, can't you tell?" he asked in a 'duh' tone. I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. "I have no idea, I turned on the TV and it automatically went to the Discovery Channel." he snorted.
"Was it that difficult to change it?"
"Yes, because I had clothes to fold."
I shook my head and got up, snatching the remote off the coffee table and muted the TV, starting my channel surf. I landed on some channel playing reruns of 'Friends', and kept it there as I turned the volume back up. Chris groaned, knowing I loved this old show and watched it so much he probably despised it by now. But I smiled, and kept my eyes glued to the television. Seconds later I felt a pillow hit me, and I glared in Chris' direction. He smiled.
I rolled my eyes and continued to watch the episode. And then the infamous line of "How you 'doin" came on and my eyes looked at Chris.
"If you try to imitate Joey saying that, I will be forced to grab a butcher knife and cut you. It was a promise, after all." I threatened.
Chris' eyes widened, but not in fear. And then I realized what I'd said, and my eyes grew wide too. I felt my palms grow sweaty, heart beat speed up. I cleared my throat, and carefully stood to my feet. I rubbed at my arms, pretending to be cold before chuckling.
"Is it cold in here? I think it is, so I'm gonna just-" I cut myself off as I booked it out of the living space towards my room.
"Sara!" Chris bellowed.
He was up and gaining on me, curse my small legs and his tall ones. This was a tag game I was obviously destined to lose, yet I didn't stop running - more like hobbling. I ran around the counter in the kitchen twice, and I was shocked that Chris was stupid enough to follow me around it both times. I'd tried this with Ricky when he decided to chase me with a spatula that had cake batter on it. He realized after the first run-around that it was a tactic to get him tired and stopped running. So without me noticing, he stopped at one end and I thought he'd already given up, just for me to run into him and get cake batter smeared on my Def Leppard shirt. I adored that band to no end, and I blame my father repeatedly for it.
May he rest in peace.
After a fourth lap around the counter, I ran out the entrance of the kitchen that leads back into the living room. I hoped to lose Chris, having him think I ran into the living room to hide instead of turning the corner and running as fast as possible into my room. But he knew my game plan, and surprised me at the second exit of the kitchen, catching me and holding onto my arms to steady me. God, being pregnant and running doesn't mix well. Hell, even if I wasn't pregnant, running doesn't mix well with me in general. I sighed, and looked up at Chris guiltily.
He spun me around, walking me back into the living room and making me plop my ass down on the couch. Chris grabbed the remote and shut off the episode of 'Friends', sitting across from me on the very sturdy coffee table. He was a little intimidating, not having his eyebrows drawn on but the muscles where eyebrows should be pulled together as if they'd furrow together. I looked away from him, leaning back and putting my hands on my stomach. My breathing evened out, and my eyes betrayed me as they looked back up at Chris. He didn't look mad necessarily, but he didn't look happy either.
"You promised me," he begun. "You promised me around the time we met if I ever imitated those lines again you'd grab a butcher knife and cut me."
I nodded. "That I did."
"So I take it you remember that then? Since I never told you about it again?"
"Yes, I do remember it."
"Do you remember anything else about the past two years?" I stayed silent and it seemed to give him his answer. "How much do you remember, Sara?" he asked me.
"Everything." I mumbled, hoping he couldn't understand me from my low volume.
But I could tell Chris understood perfectly, for he leaned forward on his knees and rubbed over his face with his hands. He sat back up and looked at me, mouth agape and he attempted to form words.
"When did you remember everything? And don't lie to me," he demanded.
I sighed.
"I started remembering little stuff about a day or two after I woke up from my first coma." I said.
Chris looked at me, mentally saying to continue. I sighed again and swallowed the lump in my throat.
"They would come and not come, I guess when or if things reminded me of those memories they'd come around to being remembered. And then everything just seemed to come together when I woke up the second time, two months ago."
Chris froze, and looked at me incredulously. He didn't seem to believe me, or he did he just . . . couldn't put to words what he was thinking in that very moment. But I had the slightest clue, it was pretty simple. Chris at the moment was probably wondering why I never told him I remembered anything, and if not to him to anyone. But I did tell someone, I told Ghost. And that time when Juliet was over at Ricky's, I remembered something about her old hair color, and I wasn't sure if Ricky caught onto that. Come to think of it, the last time I spoke to Juliet was after she heard about the second accident as well as wishing me a Merry Christmas through texts.
I hadn't gotten back to her for a week, completely forgetting about my phone's existence I was so caught up in being newly engaged.
"You have to tell him." Chris blurted and I raised an eyebrow.
"Tell who?" I asked, although I had a guess.
"Ricky." and there it was. "You have to tell him you remember everything. Including everything between the two of you."
I sighed.
"It's complicated." I murmured.
"How in fuck's name is it complicated?!" Chris exclaimed. He stood up and paced the room, making me think.
How was it complicated? Oh yeah, the fact that I've remembered things for so long and I just allow the guilt to eat me up. The fact that I didn't tell him the exact memories I could recall the second we started dating again. Hell, I could've told him about what I remembered at that surprise picnic date, but I didn't. I was too overwhelmed with love! Also when I called him 'Simba' again for the first time after hitting my head on the fridge shelf, he questioned me about remembering and I made up the stupidest lie I could come up with in seconds flat! I had chances to tell him, and I didn't. And it made me feel horrible, yet to this day I'm not sure why I keep it in.
I love Ricky, and he loves me. Ricky deserves to know that I remember everything about our relationship, and friendship before that.
"I don't know, it just is." I replied to Chris, even though it really wasn't that complicated after all.
"Sara," he sighed. "You have to tell him. If you've kept it from him like you've kept it from me, he needs to know. Hell, he should've known before me! Ricky is your fucking fiancé, Sara. He has the right to know."
I sighed. "You're right." I ran my hand over my face. "You're right." I repeated.
"I know I am," Chris said cockily. "Now I suggest you allow me to drive you over there, so you can tell him. Now."
I nodded, and got up off the couch. I grabbed my set of keys, and phone, slipping my feet into a pair of TOMS, and followed Chris out the door. Poor guy had to buy a new car, I'd obviously crushed his old one beyond repair. I would drive myself to Ricky's now, only I was afraid to drive again, especially now since I could've killed my child last time, and Chris doesn't exactly trust me not to wreck the new one. Which I understand completely.
Within ten minutes, Chris was pulling up in front of Ricky's house; my soon to be new house. Ricky was sat on the porch, smoking one of his death sticks. As I appeared from the car, Ricky immediately put out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. He's been good about not smoking around me, and refused to kiss my lips until he brushed his teeth. I wasn't sure what smoke breath could do to a pregnant lady while kissing, but he refused to take chances. I took a deep breath, and heard Chris' car pull away and turn around to drive back to his house. Ricky stood up, kicking the ashtray out of the way of the stairs and walked down to meet me halfway.
I could feel my eyes welling up with tears, and he saw and wrapped his arms around me. Ricky held me close, and I breathed in his scent. Fresh smoke and whatever cologne he sprayed onto himself this morning.
Ricky kissed the top of my head, moving his lips down so they were beside my ear.
"What's wrong, Nala?" he asked me softly.
His hands went to my bump, making the t-shirt cling to my skin and show there was one there. He rubbed his hands over it slowly, gently, and it made a saddened sob come out of my mouth. At this moment, I knew Chris was right. I knew Ricky deserved to know, because by keeping it in it created stress for me. And having a lot of stress while pregnant, was a big fat no. So I stood up as straight as I could, Ricky holding onto my hips.
"Can we go out tonight? I have something important to tell you."
-:-:-
Oh dear lord I am SO sorry for being absent for MONTHS! That was truly not my plan but so much has been going on that thoughts about this story kind of just escaped my mind.
But I couldn't be more thankful towards you guys at the same time because wow! 5.6K reads? Thank you to everyone who gave this little story a chance, it truly means the absolute world to me considering I started writing this story without even the slightest clue of what I wanted to happen. I can't say it enough, thank you, thank you, thank you.
Today there will be a double update to sort of but not really make up for my absence. Enjoy!
- Gaby