After two steps, she tried to pull away, but I clutched her waist.
“Alright, one more thing,” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “You’re about to come into my space.”
“I’ve been in your space before.” I tried to move toward the building, eager to see if her apartment would help me remember.
“Uh-uh.” She stopped me again, turning me to face her. “When you come in, you won’t like it, and still you’ll say nothing, nada. You hear me? I know that brain of yours, and you’re not going to belittle my apartment.”
Annoyance surged through me at the accusation, and she winced when I opened my mouth. “I wouldn’t do that,” I countered.
Still, the way Nina’s eyes held mine, shining in the warm glow of the streetlamp, made it clear I’d do exactly that. I wouldn’t deny it again. I knew I could be a dick, so I nodded, and she relaxed, more so as she removed my hand from her waist.
“Lincoln, you don’t remember me, and you’re not wobbly enough. So, hands off.”
True, I didn’t remember her, butI liked this woman.
After a ride in a smelly elevator, we finally reached her door. She opened it, letting me step in, and I stopped in my tracks after I cleared the doorway. The kind of air, damp and stale, that clung to your skin permeated herpreciousapartment. My gaze swept over the place, and my stomach dropped. One room. One. Barely enough space to turn around in. A sagging recliner sat too close to a bed shoved against the far wall, its corner darkened where water must have soaked through. The cracked window alongside it dripped water onto the bedspread: slow, quiet rot.
This wasn’t a home, no matter how sentimental she felt about it. It was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. Something in my chest twisted—tight, sharp. This was where she slept. Where she breathed. Either I’d known and not cared or didn’t care enough to know in the first place. I’d been fine with her living here.
No matter now. She wasn’t coming back here.Ever.
She flinched when I inhaled deeply. “Nina, babe,” I said, and she circled around, glaring into my eyes, fisted hands on her cocked hip.
“You’re going to pull some macho bullshit, aren’t you?”
“No bullshit.” And I meant it. I’d speak calmly, and she’d listen. “Pack your things and let’s go home.”
She let out a long puff of breath, telling me without words shewashome, but headed to the closet and pulled out a suitcase, a large duffel bag, and a cardboard box.Yes, we were getting everything out of here.
First, she grabbed a wooden box under the bed and put it in the duffel bag. By the time she was done, a wheezing was coming from deep in her chest. She grabbed a small machine, and set it on the coffee table, a plastic mouthpiece hung from it, tagged to the core by a clear tube. Her wheezing had taken on a rattling sound. Nina turned on the machine, dropping her weight in therecliner. It took her no effort to straighten the tube and place the mask over her mouth.
I moved to go to her, but she said, “Take a seat, Lincoln” and pointed to the bed. “Just a second.”
I sat on the corner of the bed, away from the damp area. The soft hum felt out of place in the cramped, worn room. It was clear she used this, whatever this was, daily. I waited without asking, worried pressuring her would deny me the answers I sought.
“It’s a nebulizer,” she explained. “For my asthma.”
Asthma? I had to have known this, right? How do you not know your girl’s asthmatic? Guilt settled heavy in my stomach; I clearly hadn’t done enough to keep her safe. No moldy home: fucking baseline. No more excuses, though.
She could fight me on it, but she’d lose. Her things were going to my place, and she was going under my roof. She’ll be so safe and healthy, she’ll forget she ever lived here.
Standing, she turned off the machine and put it in the box. After opening the suitcase next to me on the bed, she dumped a few things from her closet into it, then went into the bathroom with the duffel bag.
“There’s still stuff in your closet.”
She nodded. “We will figure out who’ll take care of you once I talk to Vinny. This is just enough for a few days. Until we have a plan.”
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, muscles taut beneath my shirt, and I cocked my head, voice low but sharp. “Just enough for a few days? Nina, this isn’t a weekend trip.” I tried to stand but was too dizzy. Settling for narrowing my eyes, I pointed at the moldy ceiling, my voice rising with a sharp edge that made my temples throb. “You have asthma, and look at that—this place is a death trap tailored to you.” I let my finger hover a moment longer over the dark-yellow stain by the windowbefore dropping my hand. “You’re moving in—end of story. Forget planning. We’ve been together long enough, Nina. This is overdue.”
“You don’t even remember me, you don’t know what’s up with us.” She stepped in close, eye to eye, and the throbbing in my head was making it difficult to sit straight. Her knees touched mine as her index finger jabbed at my chest, with her breath warming my lips. “You could wake up with all your memories tomorrow and kick me out of your house.”
Getting lost in her russet-colored eyes, I realized her fear was legitimate. I had no idea what our relationship was like. But there were things I didn’t need to remember, things I knew. I moved to cradle her jaw, and as slow as my movement was, she still winced when my skin touched hers.
“I don’t remember before,” I murmured, tracing her trembling top lip—its plumpness and the dip of her cupid’s bow alarmingly new. “But I remember your face… your tears. It’s a little blurry.” A dull ache thudded at the back of my skull with the effort to recall.Still the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen.“But you said everything would be okay. And it is for me, so I’m going to make sure it also is for you.”
The words hung in the air as her mouth opened in hesitation; she wanted to argue. She was unsure I was hers the way I knew she was mine—but I’d change that.
I wokeup in a dark room, the other side of the bed cold and empty. Nina never came to bed. I tried sitting up but had to brace on my elbows when the dizziness made the room swirl. Slower this time, I got to my feet and noticed all the blinds in the room had been lowered.Nina.I smiled at her thoughtfulness.“Light sensitivity would be an issue,”the physicians had said. She remembered. She cared.
