– Thursday, May 17th, 2018 –
I feel on top of the world after visiting Finnley on Tuesday, and again yesterday. On Tuesday we didn't do much more than kiss, because I couldn't get enough of the feeling it gave me. No memories are back so far, but since he doesn't care if I remember or not, just caring about the fact I do have feelings still, I couldn't care about that either, for a while.
Yesterday we mainly goofed around while we went out for a walk, stopping every couple of meters because either I, or him had to sit down and take a break. I noticed little things that tell me despite him being in a psychiatric ward, his physical health isn't great either.
It was a short visit, because just like the days I was still in hospital, Finnley had appointments to go to right after the morning visitation hours ended.
I asked him about the appointments, but he wouldn't tell me what kind of appointments he has. I know he's seeing his psychologist on Tuesday morning, followed by physical therapy right afterwards.
I sneaked a peak into the agenda at the nurses' desk to find out he's not seeing his psychologist more then once a week, so I wonder what other weekly appointments he has to go to.
I was too tired to leave my bed today to visit him again. The past two days wore me out completely and my head started hurting a bit again, which is why I'm at home.
I know Finnley's parents are over right now, having dinner with my parents, and Charlie should come over soon, but is still in school right now.
I'm sick and tired of being in bed by myself all day, and decided to descend the stairs, conquer the massive challenge that is, and lay on the couch.
But as I get to the bottom of the stairs, a blanket still pulled around me, leaning on the banister to keep myself up right, I hear James' voice coming from the kitchen.
"I'm just thankful they weren't able to take Cristian and Oliver. That they miscalculated their actions..." James sounds defeated, and I snap my head up, my interest peaked again. They wanted to take me too?
"I would've killed Sydney if they would've taken Cris," dad's voice thunders through the room in anger, only thinking about the possibility.
"He's still suffering..." Mom's calmness is gone all the way, suddenly sounding a bit on edge. "He's been forgetful now, he's been having nightmares about the near-drowning in November still. I fear for the day he starts remembering those things."
"I think Cris is stronger than we think. He did remember all of it before the car-crash, and he kept going then." Dad sounds a bit proud, but I'm not sure if I heard it right. I nearly drowned in November, which would explain my nightmares about drowning.
"Has the police gotten any further with Sydney?" dad asks after a short silence in which I assume they were all allowing the conversation to sink in a bit. "Did he confess by now about taking Finn in November?"
"No, he still hasn't," Eva cries out in desperation. "James went to visit him the other day, trying to talk some sense into that head of his..."
"I tried getting to him, but he seems to feel no remorse for selling his own brother to a sick pervert." James spits out in anger, surprising me further. Sydney is Finnley's brother? But then why haven't I met him before? Finnley already mentioned 'his ass was sold to John', but so far, I had no clue what it meant. Apparently, it means his unknown brother sold him to a sick pervert, and I can only imagine what that means.
Was Finnley abused because his supposed brother Sydney sold him? Is this one of the things I forgot about completely?
"We gave up on trying to get him to understand what he did. He's mentally ill, I know..." Eva sighs deeply. "But I can't look at him without remembering how he stayed in our house until December, pretending to be worried while Finn was missing for days already, while he knewwhat had happened."
"He knew Finn was in danger, he even denied knowing anything in January when the cops told us they found out Finn was sold again, but he knew. He knew all along that the guy who took Finn in January would take his organs to sell. And all he cared about was the money they got for it." James sounds disgusted, spitting in anger, ranting about things that shock me to the core.
Finnley's organs have been sold?
I feel sick to my stomach, listening to them, ranting about what happened to Finn, my best friend, the guy I think I love. The guy that joked around with me just yesterday, while this all happened to him?
"All we can do now, is be here for Finn. Whenever he needs us," mom answers, trying to cheer them up a bit. "I'm going to help him in court, remember?"
"But he still refuses to see or talk to us, Maria. And he isn't going to change his mind ever, I think."
"Give Finn some time. Once he'll be home, he'll see you guys are trying everything to redeem yourselves. It just needs time."
"Rome wasn't built in a day either." Dad jokingly joins in, and I roll my eyes. Finnley is way more complicated than Rome and how it was build, so it obviously will need more time for him to change his mind about talking to them. I just wonder why he isn't talking to them right now.
"That's not a good comparison, Kody." Mom sighs tiredly.
"Kody is right though." James' voice sounds depressed even. "We allowed him to alienate from us for months. We haven't been there for him when he needed us most, and he's obviously going to need time to regain some trust in us. If he ever does."
"I just wish he would accept my kidney, instead of stubbornly waiting for a donor to come along." Eva sounds as if she's on the verge of crying, and I can't help but frown, sitting down on the lower step of the stairs tiredly.
Accept her kidney? What?
"We all know Oliver is going to donate his kidney as soon as he's recovered enough. He's got great matching tissue and Finn will be more comfortable accepting his." Mom sounds calm as ever, talking about Finnley needing a kidney, refusing his own mother's, waiting for Oliver-whoever-he-may-be to donate his.
This Oliver guy just keeps popping up in conversations, and I wish I had a way to find out who he is and meet up with him. He probably knows more about what happened on the night of the car accident.
But it's not my main concern right now. Finnley needs a kidney? What the hell happened?
I can't fight the sick feeling that took a hold on me, and I feel my stomach twist at the mere thought of Finnley getting robbed from his kidney, or kidneys? Isn't he able to live with one? Is he dying if he won't get a kidney soon?
Am I going to lose him?
Thoughts are rapidly flying through my mind, confusement, disgust, fear. My heart aches and while I sit on the step of the stairs, exhausted and dizzy, I know I won't make it to the bathroom in time, needing to throw up.
So, I just lean forwards to prevent puking all over myself. The sound alerts my parents and Finn's of my presence, and soon they hurry into the hallway, looking shocked.
"Cris!" mom calls out in worry, rushing towards me, while dad runs back into the kitchen, returning with a bucket a little late. "Honey, what's wrong?"
"I'm... so... tired." I mutter, lying a bit, not wanting them to know what I just heard. I need answers from Finnley first. I need to know if he's going to be fine first. I think if I talk about it out loud, I will lose my mind, knowing they will only refuse to answer any further questions.
"Then why're you out of bed, honey?" Mom cups my face and looks at me, wiping my mouth with her sleeve, worry filling her eyes.
"I was fine upstairs... I want to lay on the couch."
"Please, Cris." Dad kneels in front of me. "I told you to call if you wanted to come down today."
I eye him annoyed, wondering if he told me that simply because they were planning on talking about secret stuff, or solely because he knows I'm weak and he's worried, like he claims. "I'm not a baby."
"Well, yeah, but you're obviously not strong enough to come down by yourself." He chuckles a bit, offering me a hand to help me up. I'm wobbly on my feet as I stand up, clasping onto him while I feel my head starting to spin like crazy, blurring my vision. "Okay, here we go." Dad lifts me in his arms, carrying me to the couch, while mom follows with the blanket that was left behind.
I notice Eva heading over to the hallway with a wet cloth, starting to clean the mess I made.
I'm too tired and feeling sick to think about everything right now, but I know I just have to get answers sooner then later.
– Friday, May 18th, 2018 –
I shuffle towards the front door and check the peephole to see who rang the bell. Mom and dad made me swear to always check the peephole first, before opening it. Since I now know some terrible things have happened that I can't remember, I make sure to keep that promise.
I find Stan and a strange guy in front of the door, the latter impatiently tapping his foot, as he nervously glances around, Stan sends him worried looks.
I unlock the night lock and the main lock, opening the door to allow Stan in, eying the strange guy with suspicion.
"Hi, Cris." Stan smiles, but it's forced, and he seems a bit restless.
"Hi... who's this?" I again eye the attractive looking blonde guy next to him, not knowing what to think about this visit.
"Auch..." the guy mumbles, nudging Stan. "You weren't lying when you said he can't remember."
"I wasn't, no." Stan rolls his eyes, seemingly a bit annoyed by the guy. "Cristian..." He steps inside, gesturing for the guy to follow him, grabbing me by my shoulders as the guy closes the front door behind him. "This is Oliver. You two are best friends and..."
"He was the driver during the accident." I remember that part since Stan told me. I was secretly hoping once I would meet the guy, I would remember something. Anything really.
But here we are, and nothing pops up. Not one single flash of memory.
"You do remember that? But not me?" Oliver frowns, crossing his arms, but not as much in a defensive manner, bot more like he's cold.
"Stan told me. And I might have overheard a few things here and there."
That last statement caused Stan to eye me nervously.
Oliver smirks, looking around the hallway curiously. "Can we sit?" He asks casually, already walking further into the house. "We need to talk, and I need to sit. My back is killing me."
Which he tells in the exact moment I notice he's limping a bit, and he seems to be in discomfort – in the least. Maybe he's even a bit in pain.
"We could sit in the living..."
"Kitchen." Stan cuts me short. "Oliver needs a decent chair."
"Oh... eh, well... kitchen?" I frown, shake my head a bit and lead Oliver the way towards the kitchen and the small dining table we really only ever use for breakfast. "Drinks?"
"Water." Oliver shrugs, carefully sitting down in a chair, sighing deeply.
"Can I ask what your injuries were after the accident?"
"I broke three disks in my lower back." Oliver cocks his head, following my every movement, making me nervous a bit.
It eventually causes me to keep eyeing him too, which results in me dropping a glass, groaning as it shatters to pieces. My hands started trembling and I've experienced that a lot in the past days.
Stan jumped up instantly, steered me towards a chair and forced me to take a seat across from Oliver, cleaning up right after me.
"Why're you guys here?" I ask with a nervous tremble in my voice. Somehow, I get nervous just because Oliver is looking at me with his piercing blue eyes.
They behold amusement, curiosity and a bit of sadness.
As I take him in, I notice he's sitting up pretty straight, and looking closer, it's evident he's wearing some sort of corset under his sweater. Obviously needed because he broke his back.
"We need to talk." Oliver calmly answers, leaning sideways a bit, retrieving something from his pocket. "About this."
"What's that?" I look at a small black box that he puts in between us at the table.
"Stan thinks this will help you solve some of the confusing feelings you have."
"Like?" I want to grab the box, but Oliver is quick to cover it with his hand, telling me I'm not yet allowed to look at it from up close.
"Finn." Oliver whispers the name, and I can tell him this subject is hard on him.
"I thought Finn was a forbidden subject?" I eye Stan annoyed, as he walks closer to us, giving us both a glass of water.
"It actually is. And we're not telling you anything." Stan shrugs. "We're showing."
"By preventing me from taking a look?"
"I just want you to listen, first." Oliver smirks, pulling the box towards him. "Because this surprised all of us a bit. They found this in our stuff, after the crash. They handed everything to my parents because nobody knew what belonged to who and it was my car," Oliver explains causally, playing with the box. "This isn't mine, as I've never seen it before."
"So, it's mine, hand it back." I'm not even sure why I feel so possessive over something that I didn't know existed until a couple of seconds ago. But there's a flash, faintly as it is, of me, staring at the box, feeling warm, happy, and on a mission. That's it, and its more feelings that came to me, than it is a memory. It's just a black box I see flashing before my eyes, in my hands.
Oliver chuckles, sliding the box in my direction. "Do it, Cris. I know you would've long done it if you could've."
"Let him adjust a little, idiot." Stan laughs, nudging Oliver carefully, sitting down next to him, while I focus on the box that I now hold in my hand. It feels heavier than I expected, and I weigh it curiously, while I savour the familiar feeling I get while holding it.
I push it open with my thumb, revealing an expensive looking silver ring, something engraved in the inner part of the ring.
As I grab the ring, pulling it out of its holder, I notice Oliver and Stan sharing a smirk, before I read; "Cristian ♥ Finn– 10-27-'17"
"Is this..." what I think it is? I look up to find Oliver and Stan both nodding with grins on their faces as wide as ever. "I was going to propose to Finn?"
"Apparently, yes." Oliver nods, waving towards the ring. "Though you never told any of us about it."
"Oh... wow." I swallow hard, looking back towards the ring, realising the date isn't even a year ago. On the contrary, it's a couple of months ago. And didn't his parents said he went missing in November?
I wanted to propose while we weren't even together that long?
But, at least this proves I still loved Finn during the crash, and my feelings now – though disconnected from memories – are a sign I still did, and never stopped.
I still have tons of questions, that I want to have answered first, before jumping into something as huge as marrying Finn, though the thought of making him mine on such a level makes me giddy and warm, excited, impatient even.
"Are you gonna?"
"N... not yet?" I scratch my head, putting the ring back into its box carefully. "I'm not even sure if we're together in any way."
"Oh, please!" Oliver slaps his face with a hand, dragging it down slowly. "Stan, for the love of god please tell me the crash did knock the obliviousness out of his head."
"Wh-what?" I stare at him, shocked to hear him call me oblivious. That's Finnley's description of me. But than again, if we were best friends, it only makes sense for Oliver to know Finnley too.
"It did not, I'm sorry." Stan laughs out loudly.
"Cris, dear, oblivious Cris..." Oliver leans forwards – only slightly, stopped by the corset soon. "I visited Finnley yesterday, and he couldn't shut up about you kissing him, and how he was on cloud nine. How much he loves you and how you at least have feelings for him still. He loves you. Do you love him too?"
"Well... yeah." I shrug, knowing I love him, just not remembering the details, or the fact in itself prior to the accident.
"Than you're with him. He's your boyfriend. Neither ever broke up, and he surely never wanted to. If you don't want to either, then that's that. Let's not make things any more complicated, okay?"
I can't fight back the smirk forming on my face, liking the directness of Oliver, and his... simply view to this.
I guess if we were indeed together, and neither broke up or intends to, we're still together, right? I'm still with Finnley, even though I can't remember being with him in the first place.
This is all too weird, but I'm glad Oliver showed up.