CHAPTER 61
NICOLLE’S POV
When I opened my eyes to check the time, I saw that it was already past 12. To tell the truth, I was actually bracing myself on forgetting everything that happened earlier. Ironically, it seemed I lost my natural ability to forget. Half of me wanted to disregard the lot; the other half didn’t.
Anyway, even if I have this condition and Matthew Hawkings around, it’s not going to be easy to forget Blake. He was, after all, the guy I have fallen in love with. I could forget for an hour about him… weeks, months. Maybe years. But not for a lifetime… because I know, deep down in my brain, our memories were there. Everything about us was there. Clear. Untainted. Present. And even if anytime now, I wouldn’t be able to grasp them, they weren’t lost.
Just forgotten.
But now, our so-called ‘love’ was gone. Everything was just in the past now. I trusted Blake, loved him. but he lied to me. Everything was just in the past now… shattered into million pieces. I remembered how he used to say he love me million times more than anything. Maybe that wasn’t enough to tell me about what was going on… about the truth.
Love that’s million times more than anything? Also shattered into million pieces.
I just couldn’t believe Blake could do that to me. For all I thought he would catch a bullet for me. Turned out, he was too afraid to tell me the whole reality.
Too damn scared to lose me for a while but too damn stupid to lose me forever.
But Blake was just one thing.
My family was another.
The people I grew up with. They knew all about me through and through. They knew all my weaknesses, secrets, strengths, all my dreams. They supported me. The whole way they were behind me, cheering, telling me they would always be beside me. Damn, I thought my family was perfect. They weren’t. We weren’t. Far from it, actually.
And my friends, Andrew… I was thinking he also knew about this. Andrew was too good to me. He was too gentle. He was always there… my knight in shining armor. Even if I caused him pain, he continued being there for me… but he was part of this. He fibbed. He fibbed.
And I was too naïve about it.
About everything.
And Matthew… does he know?
Hours ago, he told me I would forget about all of this. I haven’t told him about my condition, yet. How? How did he know all of this? Was he a close friend of mine? I didn’t think so.
Just when I was about to get up to ask him, I heard the door creak. Through the dim light of the lamp on the bedside table, I could see Matthew walking on, a glass on one hand. I shut my eyes closed.
I didn’t know why I suddenly felt the need to spy on him. I know, it’s really pointless.
But everything’s pointless now, so why bother doing things that actually made sense, right?
The echoes of his footsteps rang through my eardrums along with the slow beating of my heart. A few minutes later, I heard the opening of the wooden cabinet. The cabinet was in front of the bed so I had a good guess that his back was on me.
I took the chance to peek.
My breath got caught somewhere in my throat when I saw his muscular back. He was shirtless and I was bothered by it. I closed my eyes, trying to remove his naked torso from my mind. Oh, I feel like a pathetic perv.
Apparently losing control of my eyelids, my eyes were once again open. I was shocked when I saw him facing me, staring right through me like he was going to murder me… still topless.
On a less serious note, I asked myself, why are guys that surround me so hot?
I mean, just for a second, look at this guy who was staring at me right now... he could be a candidate for sexiest man alive.
Wait a minute, was he staring at me?
My eyes widened at the thought and quite obtusely covered my face with the blanket that covered my body. I gulped in jitters. Oh god! How embarrassing was that, really?
“Pervert,” I heard him comment.
I crumpled my face in humiliation. I groaned and after a long moment of silence, I managed to say, “Sorry,” in a little voice.
“Move.”
This time, all the feeling of embarrassment was washed away. With all the dignity that was left in me, I removed the blanket from my face and looked at him in question. He wanted me to—
“What?” I asked him, sitting on my butt.
“Move. I don’t sleep on the couch. Sleep there if you want.”
I looked down
I looked down the blanket that covered my thighs. Since it was his house and I was practically a free-loader in here, it was his say on every matter. I only scratched the side of my head and said, “Yeah, sure.”
I sighed.
I got off the bed, took a pillow and walked to the door. Before I could exit, though, Matthew Hawkings called me again. I turned my head ever so slightly so I was not directly facing him. I was too shy to look him in the eyes.
“Stay for a while,” said he.
I froze in my place, not knowing what to say, let alone, do. I gulped a few times before recomposing myself. I didn’t know how long I was standing there, staring at nothing. My lips were quivering so I bit the bottom one. I hugged the pillow tightly as I shakily turned around. My eyes met a different Matthew Hawkings. It was surprising, really.
If I had had the chance to see him like this before, I, sure as hell, would define him as one cute nerd. Look at him. Come on! I wasn’t the clingy type of girl but goddamn! Suddenly, he just made me want to cuddle him. He looked like a kid, covered in Popeye pajamas, big round glasses that resemble those of Harry Potter’s, his legs were crossed in front of him, his hands resting on his knees, his back against a pillow pressed on the headboard.
And—aww—he was sucking his cheeks.
“Are you just going to stare at me forever?”
Had he not spoken, I would attack him with hugs and kisses and give this little kid candies and chocolates. Damn. I just wished he would just shut up and continue looking like an innocent little kid. Who knew that Matthew Hawkings was a baby face?
Anyway, since I lacked the ability of filtering words before verbalizing them, I told him, “You are really cute.”
And it came with an ear-to-ear grin. Of course!
Internally, I was gulping down acid, hoping I could just disappear right about now.
He frowned at me then shot me a look of disbelief before reaching his hand out to turn the lamp off. I guess it wasn’t just the lamp that was turned off. He was, too, by my absurdity.
When I realized the room was dark, I stopped breathing for a moment then continued on when he told me to turn the lights on instead. I looked for the switch and once the light was back, I slowly made my way to the bed.
Through my peripheral vision, I could make out the entire room. It was small. There was a bed, a bedside table, a cabinet in front of the bed and a study table on the far left corner. The wallpaper was a striped light and dark green combination, making the room relaxing to look at.
I stopped describing the room inside of me and was brought back to life when Matthew’s groan surprised me. “Will you stop that?! Walk faster and stop looking so goddamn confused. You’re inside a small room not a fucking maze!” he shouted, glowering at me.
His whole cuteness was washed away by his irritated voice.
He was not cute anymore.
He was scary. So damn scary.
I stepped back a bit, tightening my clutch on the pillow. I looked at him one last time before running out the room and into the den. Thankfully, all lights were still on.
I settled myself on the couch, looking down at my feet before burying my entire face on the pillow I embracing for dear life. I looked up and sighed.
Wasn’t even twenty four hours and I was starting to irritate him. I was nothing but a burden to him. I placed the pillow on the couch and started biting my fingernails, figuring out what to do… a way to make him less annoyed at me.
Pouting, I gave up.
I decided to give in to sleep because I badly needed it. I was tired beyond explanation. Everything that happened today was really stressing me out.
I yawned, settled on the couch and caught my sleep.
Half the night though, I was tossing and turning around and fighting off mosquitoes.
And goddamn, it was so hot!
***
I woke up to the smell of bacons, eggs, toast and orange juice. The typical American breakfast. I opened my eyes, realizing that I didn’t remove my glasses last night. I was also wearing jeans and a t-shirt not pajamas. What the hell? Was I drunk last night?
I rubbed my eyes slowly and called out, “Mom! Why did I sleep on the cou—“
I stopped mid-sentence when I noticed that I wasn’t in our house. And with the temperature, I could safely say that I wasn’t in New York. I looked around. On the coffee table, I saw the breakfast and a note that read: Front porch.
God, was I kidnapped or something?
And why was I feeling so bad?
I looked around again, searching for the bathroom. My bloody breath stinks. I couldn’t stand it myself. When I thought I was ready to face the one who wrote the note, I went out to the front porch.
Sitting on one of the stairs was a girl fidgeting with her laptop. She was so focused on her work that she didn’t notice that I was already in front of her. Like me, she was also wearing glasses.
“Matthew left. Told me to show this to you.” She said all that without looking up.
I tilted my head in confusion. Who on earth was Matthew?!
“Wait, who are—‘
Before I could finish the sentence, she stood up and showed me a video on her laptop. I saw me video-recording myself.
I paused the video for a while. “Wait, who are you?!”
She sighed and said, “I am Czarina Greene. Matthew Hawkings’s best friend and neighbor. Grew up in London. Moved here three years ago. A writer, but no, not a published one. Just a writer. So, stop asking questions and watch the video, alright?”
I smiled at her. Somehow, it seemed like I haven’t heard much from British. It felt good to hear someone ramble in a British accent.
Music to my ears.
“Hey. Stop smiling, creep. Just watch the video.”
I nodded at her and watched the video. I heard myself talking about having Alzheimer’s disease… multiple sclerosis… and Blake and my family lying to me about it… running away with Matthew Hawkings… and video-recording myself every day.
At the end of the five-minute video, I was down the floor, staring blankly ahead at nothing. Shocked with what I just saw.
“Was I drugged when I took that?” I asked the British girl.
“Look, Nicolle Lee, you were not drugged. It’s true. You have Alzheimer’s disease and Multiple Sclerosis. Matty told me about it and asked me to show you this.”
Then she showed me a document on her laptop. I skimmed it. It was about my Alzheimer’s disease and that multiple sclerosis.
I couldn’t believe my own eyes, so I looked at Czarina Greene and asked her challengingly, “How do I know you’re not making it up?”
“Honey, I’m good at writing stories but that doesn’t make me a liar.”
I started breathing heavily, my mind fogged with stress.
“Look, Matty told me to take care of you while he’s gone and I will… just trust me. I’m a good person. Come on, let me show you something.”
“No!” I shouted. I cupped my head with my hands. “No! I—it’s—no!”
Czarina Greene continued telling me to calm down. How the hell could I calm down?! I had dementia!
With all the strain I was suffering with right now, I started feeling dizzy, losing my balance in the process. That was when someone caught me. I closed my eyes, letting down frustrated tears.
Suddenly, two arms were wrapped around me protectively.
“Don’t worry, I’m here now.”
I breathed in.
I was pretty sure it was Matthew Hawkings.
The guy who saved me.