He's not Tyler.
He is physically Tyler, but he's not him.
He doesn't have Tyler's sense of humor. He doesn't know what to do when the kids ask him questions.
I feel like a pedophile because Tyler is mentally eighteen years old.
The doctors let him come home, and he's fully healed, but he doesn't have his memory back.
He's in the backyard, playing with the kids, tossing a tennis ball to them, He loves the kids. All the family is here.
I want him to remember.
He's trying. I know he is. He asks a lot of questions, and I've told him everything I possibly could, he just doesn't remember.
He doesn't come into the bathroom when I'm showering. If he walks in on me changing he starts apologizing and leaves in a panic.
He's not my Tyler.
It's been three months now. The kids are back in school and only Emily is in sports because Baseball and Track are out of season.
I'm sitting in the backyard, watching him laugh with the kids, nodding when they ask him things, smiling.
He's happy.
He's so fucking happy.
"How are you doing?" Mrs. Cerda asks gently. "I haven't seen you guys in a week. Any changes?"
I shake my head.
"I'm doing terrible, and no, no changes."
She nods.
"I'm sorry." She says.
"He's happy." I whisper, watching him. "He's really happy. That's all I care about."
He trip on his shoelace, crashing to the ground. I sit up.
Emily asks him something, and he nods, standing up again.
I sigh.
Ethan throws the ball, and Tyler catches it, and he stands there, his hand in midair, staring at the ground.
"What's wrong?" Blake calls.
No reply.
Tyler says something to the kids, handing the ball to Ethan, and then he crosses the field to me, his hands in his pockets.
"Do we have a firebox?" he asks.
"Yes." I say, confused.
"Can I see it?" he asks.
I shrug.
"Alright." I stand up, and everyone follows, excited.
Why the hell would he want the firebox?
The kids follow us. I go to the kitchen, getting the firebox out from the cabinet. I grabb the key from the junk drawer.
He opens it, and he starts digging through it, putting social security cards and birth certificates and the marriage license out of the way.
He keeps digging.
"If you tell me what you're looking for, I can help you."
"I don't know what it is." He says.
"Then why are you looking in here?"
"Because I think I have to." He says.
"Alright then." I shrug, getting a glass of apple juice from the fridge. I chug it, putting the fridge in the dishwasher.
He keeps putting things aside, and then he pauses, his hand picking something up.
I stare at him.
He flips the small slip of paper over, reading it.
"Serendipity." He whispers. He pauses, lifting his shirt to look at the tattoo on his ribcage.
He stares at it for a long time.
"I think I remember something." He says.
"What is it?" I ask.
"We were in a room." He says. "And there was a lot of boxes everywhere, and a really big window, and a bed with a white blanket on it, and I think I tried to rip this."
"Yes." I whisper. "That was right after we got married. We just got back from our honeymoon. That was at the penthouse in Philadelphia."
He nods.
"I remember." He whispers. "The wedding. I remember the wedding. God, you looked so beautiful. Are there photos of that?"
"Yeah." I nod. "Let me get them."
"Okay." He looks confused, and frustrated.
I go into the library, getting the wedding album, and I go back downstairs. He's in the living room now, the firebox back.
"You put the fortune back?" I ask.
"Yeah." He nods.
"Okay." I say. I down, my legs crossed, handing him the wedding album.
He hesitates, and then he lays down, his head in my lap. He goes through the photos.
"Red velvet cake, right?" he asks.
"Yeah."
He smiles.
"We fought about that flavor for months." He laughs quietly. "I remember I wanted chocolate with buttercream frosting, and you wanted red velvet. I tried to get you to let us make it half and have, but you refused. I eventually gave in and gave you red velvet."
I smile.
"We compromised. Do you remember that?"
"Yeah." He nods. "If I let you get red velvet, we had to honeymoon in Australia. I remember everything before that." He looks up at me. "I remember I refused to go into the honeymoon house until you let me carry you over the threshold."
"Yeah." I smile. He keeps going through photos.
"We had so much se-" I put my hand over his mouth.
"The kids are in here." I remove my hand.
"Right." He says. "We have kids." He looks at them. "We got a house, and Delaney got pregnant with Cameron, and then you got pregnant. I remember. After you had Emily, we moved to Florida, right?"
"Yeah." I nod.
"And then Delaney pushed you off that dock." He whispers. "And you forgot everything. Oh dear god baby, I know exactly how you feel."
"It's okay." I whisper. He kisses my hand.
"That cop got shot on the beach a couple years later, after Ethan and Declan."
"Yes." I smile.
"And we moved back to New York, into the house we have now, and we got into the fight, the really bad one, and you left for weeks, and you were pregnant with the twins."
I run my fingers through his hair.
"We fixed it with a letter, right?"
"A list." I nod.
He nods.
"Now we never fight. And a few years passed, and your parents were getting divorced, but they didn't, and you sang that incredible song, and the reunion, and then-" he cuts off. "Oh god, I remember." He starts laughing. "What a stupid way to go."
"You didn't go."
"Well I could have. I kicked you out." he frowns. "I'm so sorry, Sunshine."
"It's alright." I whisper.
He sits up, turning around, putting his hands on my cheeks, staring intently into my eyes.
"I asked about Sarah."
"You didn't know."
I stare back at him for a long time.
He remembers.
My eyes fill with tears.
"If it helps, I fell in love with you all over again. That was wonderful. Getting to feel that again." He puts his hand on his heart, smiling.
"Do you wish you didn't remember?" I ask.
"No. I hated not being able to remember. I wanted all the memories." He smiles.
Hesitating, he leans in and kisses me.
I kiss him back slowly. I've missed him.
When he pulls back, I'm smiling with tears in my eyes.
<><>
Later, we're alone in the house, because my parents took the kids for the night since it's Friday and they don't have school tomorrow.
We're laying on the couch, and it's 5:30.
"Let's..." he hesitates. "Let's go get dinner, and then let's go to the beach and sit on a blanket."
I look at him.
"You want to go out? Do you remember the conversation about dating?"
"Sunshine, I remember everything, including you trying to get me to have sex with you before I even touched you, and then you attempting to murder me."
I sit up, gasping.
"Evil!" I say. "I did not try to murder you!"
"Really?" he asks. "You grabbed my ankle!"
I scoot away from him.
"I guess I can't touch you then." I say, crossing my arms, sticking my nose up. He grins, lunging across the couch at me, tickling me. I start laughing, throwing my head back, hysterical.
He stops tickling me and starts sucking on my neck.
"Tyler!" I gasp "Don't give me a hickey! Tyler! I swear!"
He pulls his head back.
"Let me give you one." He says.
"Put it somewhere nobody will see it."
"Fine." he grins, yanking my shirt up. He pushes my breasts out of the way, sucking on my cleavage.
"Ew! Stop!"
He ignores me, continuing to suck.
I sigh loudly, settling back into the pillows.
He sucks and sucks and sucks, and when he pulls away a few minutes later, there's a purple circle directly between my breasts.
I can't wear any shirt that shows cleavage.
"Tyler, now I can't wear any shirts that show tit!" I whine.
"You shouldn't be wearing anything that passes right here." He pokes my chin. "Everything from there down is mine." He says, grabbing my left breast, squeezing.
"Alright." I say, pushing him off of me. "I haven't had sex in four months. If you're going to grope, at least stick it in too."
He starts laughing.
"Oh god, I've missed not knowing you. You're my whole world, Sunshine." He leans down, kissing me lovingly. "Now, we can have really loud, intense sex later. For now, we're going to the beach."
"I can't even put on a bikini."
He looks sad.
"Shit." He mutters. "Well do it anyways, and I'll give anybody who looks a long ass kicking." He says.
I smile, standing up.
"Alright, I suppose."
I go upstairs, and he follows me.
"I'll order the food." He says, pulling out his phone.
I grab my phone off the side table, going into the bathroom.
It starts ringing.
Blake.
Frowning, I pick it up.
"Hello?" I ask.
"Hey. So, after we left we all went to your Mom's, and we were thinking...everything he said he remembered, we already told him."
I frown.
"So?" I ask.
"So what if he's making it up." Cooper says.
Silence.
"No. I don't think so..."
"He hesitated before kissing you. He hesitated before lying his head in your lap. Car, Tyler doesn't hesitate with you." Delaney says.
I bite my lip.
"Do you really think so?" I whisper.
"He asked if you fixed it with a letter. Tyler was always correcting you that it was a list."
I hold my breath.
He wants to go on a date.
Tyler and I don't date.
Hesitating, I peek my head out of the bathroom, keeping the phone to my ear.
"Tyler?" I ask carefully. He looks at me. "What's Emily's middle name?"
"What?" he asks.
"Emily's middle name. What is it?"
Silence.
"Do you not know?" I whisper.
He opens his mouth, and then he closes it.
He doesn't know.
"I can explain." He says.
I hang up on Blake.
"You don't need to explain."
Heartbroken. That's all I feel. Heartbreak.
"I just..." he sighs. "You're not happy."
"So you thought lying would make that better?"
"I don't know how to be your husband! I want to, desperately! I want you to be happy. And I thought if I just, if I tried to-"
"No." I say. "No, I'm your wife. I know you better than you know yourself. If you really remembered, you'd know that we don't date."
"I'm sorry." He whispers.
"I want Tyler back. I want my Tyler back. No amount of you lying can bring him back."
I grab my purse and keys and phone, and I leave.
By the time I get to Mom and Dad's, I'm crying.
He doesn't remember.
Numbly, I walk into the living room.
"Oh honey." Nana sighs.
"He's never going to remember." I whisper. "He won't. He doesn't know how. Tyler never would lie to me. He asked me on a date. We don't date!"
I feel like I'm going to throw up.
I feel like I've cheated on Tyler.
That guy gave me a fucking hickey.
"Did you have sex with him?" Delaney asks.
"He doesn't remember." I say, broken. "He doesn't remember."
Shaun pulls me into a hug.
Tyler comforts me when I cry.
I start crying harder, because Tyler isn't here.
I feel like he's died.
"Let me punch him." Blake says.
"No." Mr. Cerda says.
"When Carmen lost her memory, she got clocked in the head and she remembered."
I think about how happy I was.
I thought he remembered me.
His children.
But he doesn't. He made it up.
The whole thing is made up.
"Do you think Daddy will ever remember?" Declan asks my Mom.
"I don't know hun, I hope so."
My kids are hurt.
We thought he remembered.
I wish I'd forget.
Then it wouldn't be so painful.
Was that just for him to get me into bed?
"I'm gonna puke." I say, shoving away from Shaun.
I go into the bathroom, puking up my lunch, holding my own hair back since my husband isn't here to do it.
I miss him so much. Memories hit me.
The engagement, the wedding, the honeymoon, after the honeymoon, begging for a baby, nonstop...
Everything.
His laughing, his joking around, him yelling at me for doing stupid shit.
I flush the toilet, sitting back, and I sit on the bathroom floor, my hands on both sides of the toilet, crying.
I've thrown up with multiple different babies, and every single time Tyler is behind me, holding my hair.
Only this time, he's not.
He doesn't know me. Not really.
I seriously feel like he's dead.
I brush my teeth, and then I sit down against the bathroom wall, my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands.
He's gone.
He made it up.
I would give anything for Tyler to remember.
Numb, I exit the bathroom, sitting against the door in the living room.
"Think about how you felt when you couldn't remember him." Blake says.
"He made it up." I hiss. "I didn't even remember my parents. He remembers Sarah. It's not the fucking same."
I remember that song that made Tyler and I fix a problem.
I remember.
They always say
A heart is not a home
Without the one who gets you through the storm
Tyler gets me through storms.
My heart aches.
I rest my head back against the door, shutting my eyes.
"I don't know what to do." I whisper. I'm numb all over. "He's...he's just his body. He's not him." I shake my head. "Do you think he was just trying to get me in bed?"
"I don't know." Cooper sighs, rubbing his temples. "Eighteen year old Tyler wanted one thing."
"So that's a yes. That's exactly what he wanted. Fuck, I can't raise five kids without a husband." I mutter. "I can't without him. He's...home. And I feel like he's just...dropped dead on me. In an instant. He's gone." My eyes are full of tears.
He's fucking gone.
I stare blankly at the wall.
"Let's go." Blake says. "Back to your house."
I start to protest, but he shakes his head, standing up.
Blake ends up going alone.
I don't move from my spot. It's not going to work.
Why the fuck would it work?
"I might go to the penthouse." I mutter. "Spend the weekend there with the kids. I can't with him right now. You guys have no idea how difficult this is. What sucks is I've now been on both sides of it. I know how it feels. It sucks, but it's definitely worse for the person who remembers."
I sigh.
"Let's just wait, see how Blake makes out." Delaney says.
So we wait.
And we wait.
And the sun goes down, and we keep waiting.
Around nine thirty, the front door opens.
I don't move.
I'm afraid.
Blake wanders into the living room, sighing. He sits down.
A few seconds later, Tyler walks in.
Why the hell did Blake bring him here?
Tyler's eyes land on me.
"Come here." He says.
"No." I whisper, shaking my head.
"Yes." He says.
"No. You're a lying bastard."
He heads toward me, and for the first time in my life, I'm actually afraid he's going to hurt me, or rape me.
He was trying to get me to have sex with him.
I reach up and open the bathroom door I'm leaning on, shutting it and crawling across the floor.
He follows me.
Oh god. Oh my god.
I start crying, crawling into the bathtub.
"Get out." I say, panicked, I yank the curtain shut.
He opens it again, crouching down in front of the tub. He rests his elbows on the edge, clasping his hands together.
"You're scared." He whispers.
I stare at him, shaking.
"Get out. You're not Tyler."
He climbs into the tub with me, sitting on the other side, pulling legs against his chest.
He doesn't touch me.
He doesn't even move.
He just sits there.
I don't look at him.
A lot of time passes, and the clock on the wall of the bathroom is at 11:04pm.
It's been an hour and a half.
"Are you ready to talk?" he whispers.
Everyone is still sitting in the living room.
The entire house is dead silent.
"I don't want to talk to you." I whisper.
"It's Elizabeth." He whispers.
"What?" I sniffle.
"Her middle name. It's Elizabeth. So is yours. Ethan's is Gabriel, Declan's is Blake, and then the twins Are Owen and Asher." He rests his head against the faucet, staring at me.
I stare at him.
"Blake told you that." I whisper.
"No, Blake didn't tell me that. In fact, I drove Blake's car here. From memory."
I don't say anything.
"You have a birthmark." He says. "On your ass. It looks like a cat. One time, you let me draw a face on it. Back before we had kids. Back when we were engaged."
Nobody knew that except for us.
He takes a deep breath.
"We had sex on the roof of the penthouse as some guy's party." He whispers. He doesn't try to touch me.
"Everybody knew that." I whisper.
"They didn't know that we left your thong on the flag pole." He says.
Nobody, not one single soul knew that, along with him drawing on my birthmark.
"I just broke your heart." He looks so upset, so mad at himself.
"What hand do I write with?" I whisper.
"Left." He says without a pause. "You twist the rings when you're nervous."
I stare at him.
"You swear you're not making it up?"
"I'm not." He says. "I know every single detail about you. I know you begged me for that fucking yacht, and then we never even took it on one trip."
I smile.
"You really remember?" I whisper.
He nods.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me before?"
"You were scared." He says. "I also know that you get embarrassed when you're shopping for panties because you still fit in kid sizes. Sometimes you have to special order thongs."
Silence.
"I'm sorry, Sunshine. I can't believe I did that to you."
"You didn't." I whisper. "You didn't know any better."
"You cried." He gives me a sad smile. "I know you did. I can tell. You look exhausted."
I sigh, resting my head against the wall of the bathroom.
"I am exhausted. Mentally, physically, and emotionally."
"Do you believe me?" he whispers.
"Yes." I whisper. "Please don't be lying, Tyler. Please. If you don't remember, be honest."
"I remember." He says. "I can even draw your birthmark." He adds.
"I believe you." I whisper.
"I love you, Sunshine." He says.
"I love you too." I whisper.
"Do you want to go home?"
"No, I'm very tired. Let's just sit for a while, okay?"
"You'll fall asleep." He warns.
"No I won't." I say, stretching my legs out.
He stretches his out too, putting them beside me. I put mine between his legs, resting back against the wall.
Tyler
I know she's going to fall asleep. I watch her, watching me. After a few minutes her watching me, she yawns. She blinks a few times, and she starts shutting her eyes.
I let her. The light is coming in from the living room, but even that light is dim. It's dark in here. It's peaceful.
After a few minutes, her breathing shallows, and I know she's asleep.
For good measure, I sit up, grabbing her hand.
She doesn't move. I drop it, and it falls onto her thigh, limp.
I climb out of the tub, carefully scooping her up.
I lay her onto the couch.
"Do you really remember?" Delaney asks.
"Yeah." I nod. "I can't believe I did that to her. I'm so angry at myself."
"Why did you do it?" Shaun asks quietly.
"I think I just wanted her to be happy." I sigh. I pick up Carmen's purse, and her keys, wallet, and phone, and I go put them in the Range Rover.
I leave the passenger door open after laying the seat down.
"Alright. I'm taking her home." I whisper. "Are you sure you're good with the kids?"
Mrs. Schuler nods.
Nodding, I scoop Carmen up.
"Bye guys." I whisper.
They all mutter goodbye, and I carry her to the car. I put her in the seat, buckling her in.
I shut the door, going around, I get in the front, adjusting the seat.
She's so short. It's adorable.
I start the car, and I carefully drive.
I go home, punching the pin in.
The gate opens, and I drive up, parking in the garage. I bring her things inside and set them on the counter, and then I go unbuckle her, carefully scooping her up.
She doesn't move.
I shut the door with my butt and go inside. I close the garage door, holding her with one arm, and I carry her upstairs.
I settle her into bed, pulling her shoes and socks off. I unbutton her jeans, pulling them off.
She has white panties, and there's blood all over them.
Do I wake her up?
I don't think it's going to stop.
Shrugging, I pull her shirt off, and unclasp her bra. I pull my shirt off my body, carefully pulling it over her head. She doesn't even wake up.
The sheets are white...
I hesitate.
"Sunshine?" I whisper, shaking her gently. She doesn't move. I panic.
She's bleeding and she's not waking up. Is it possible for her to bleed out?
I shake her shoulder, frantic.
She opens her eyes.
Her eyes land on me, and she looks around, and then she looks down at her clothes.
"Did you change me?" she mumbles.
I nod.
She presses her hand to her stomach, cringing.
"You have white panties on and when I took your pants off...you're bleeding."
She starts to fall back to sleep.
"Sunshine?" I ask.
She doesn't wake up. She's just so tired.
Fine, I'll help her.
Confused, I grab a pair of panties from her drawer.
She has period panties that are just normal panties. I go digging through the cabinet, and I find a blue box that says tampons.
I stare at it.
Shrugging, I open it, pulling one out.
I lay her panties on the counter.
I think they stick these to the underwear.
I hold the stick in my hand.
Confused I rip the wrapped off, tossing it in the trash.
It's blue and there's a thing stick and a thick stick.
I push the thin stick, and a cotton stick pops out with a string attached.
Frowning, I rest the cotton stick in her panties, throwing out everything else. I close the box, tossing it back in the counter. I go back into the room, holding the stick to her panties. I pull her panties down, and I start to pull the other ones on.
She wakes up fast.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asks.
"I-you started your period!" I say. "You weren't waking up!"
She looks at the panties in my hand, and she starts laughing.
It starts with a smile, and then a giggle, and then full on laughter.
She gets out of the bed.
"What?" I ask.
"Oh god baby, that's so cute. Come here, sweetheart."
I follow her into the bathroom.
She grabs the cotton stick, tossing it in the trash. She grabs an orange wrapped square from the cabinet, and the panties. She steps into them, sitting on the toilet.
"This-" she unwraps it, "is a pad. It sticks." she grabs my hand, sticking the cotton thing to my hand. "You stick it to the panties. I line the folds with the hemming's." she shows me how to do it, and then she hands it to me.
"You want me to put it on?" I ask. "No, I'm a guy, I don't bleed."
"You're thirty four years old and you don't understand a period." She says.
"It's the shedding of your uterus. It's how you know you're not pregnant."
"Well whatever. You need to learn."
Hesitating, I take the pad from her hand, sticking it to her panties.
"Now rip off the wrapper in the middle." She says.
I do.
"And fold those back." She does one to show me.
I do the other one.
"See?" she asks. "That's what you stick."
"Then they the hell do they have those blue rods?"
"Those go inside."
"Inside?" I repeat.
"Yes."
"What, your pee hole?" I ask.
"No." she says.
"My hole?"
She laughs.
"Yes hun, your hole."
"Does it hurt?" I whisper. She shakes her head.
"Nope. It hurt really bad when I first started using them, but now I've had you go in there, and I've had five kids come out."
"Oh." I frown.
She goes pee and wipes, and then stands up, pulling her panties up, flushing. She throws the old ones out, and she brushes her hair and teeth.
Yawning, she goes back to the bed.
She didn't get any blood on the sheets. She crawls in.
I shower quickly, putting on fresh boxers, and I brush my teeth, and I towel dry my hair, tossing my towel on the floor. She's laying on her left side. I shut the bathroom light off.
"I hope I didn't hear your towel hit the floor." She mumbles, half awake.
"Uh...you didn't."
I go back in the bathroom, picking it up, putting it in the hamper.
I go back into the bedroom, shutting the light off.
I climb in bed with her, wrapping her into my arms.
She nuzzles against me.
"I love you." I murmur.
"I love you too." She mutters. She's half awake. Her voice is breathy.