“Hendrix…” I trail off waiting for him to respond.
“Thank you.”
“For what, London?”
“For trying to help me. I know this isn’t easy on anyone. But especially you. You love London?—”
He cuts me off as he walks back toward me. “I do love London. And London is you.”
“Maybe so. But I don’t know her. I don’t know how to be her. Right now, it sort of feels like you’re in love with a ghost. And I’m sorry for that.”
His chin drops but he holds my stare before moving closer once more.
“You’ll get your memories back, London. I have faith in you and what you’re capable of.”
“What if you don’t love me when I do? Or what if…” I fall silent again because saying the words I’m thinking seem too cruel to be spoken out loud.
He smiles sadly. “What if you don’t love me anymore?” he asks before glancing toward where Dash is getting into his truck.
Hendrix closes his eyes for a few seconds before attempting an answer. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what you’d like me to say to that question.”
“I want the truth, Hendrix. Even if it hurts,” I tell him.
“I’ll always love you, London. There’s nothing that could change my feelings for you. And if you find yourself again, your truth, and it’s not me you love, it’ll hurt like hell. But I’ll let you go if it’s what you need. I just want you to be happy.”
He crouches in front of me like Dash did moments before. He tips my chin up gently to make sure I’m listening. “But I’ll fight for you before I walk away completely. Just know that. I don’t mean it in an asshole way. But until I’m sure I’ve done everything in my power to respectfully try to win back your heart, I’ll fight. You understand?”
“Yes,” is all I manage to say before he wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. Then he walks away leaving me wondering how I don’t remember loving a man like him.
I’mthe last one left at the gravesite. My parents said they’d give me an hour or so alone. But they’re only a phone call away. They went to a little café about ten minutes down the road. Apparently, it’s a place Lennon and I loved growing up.
Lennon.Lennon Shay Tyler.I trace her name etched into the unforgiving stone. This is all wrong. What happened that night? No one has fessed up to what’s in the accident report. They’re all trying to protect me, but maybe if I read it…
My brows furrow in frustration. “Tell me what to do, Lennon. I’m lost.” I talk to her like she’ll answer.
The sun is low and starting to cast shadows beneath its golden glow. The day has been beautiful. What kind of irony is that? A day like this should be gray skies above me and thunder rolling in the distance threatening a storm the likes of which I’ve never seen. But no, the sun mocks my grieving heart.
Something winking against the setting sun catches my attention in the distance. I squint to see better. I can’t make out who is standing there, but I know it’s a man. He’s leaned against a tree. I’m sure he’s just visiting a grave, the same as me. But something about him being there sends a chill down my spine.
If I could walk and defend myself, I feel like I’d investigate. I wonder if I’ve always had that quality…to poke at potential danger.
Deciding it’s time to leave for now, I pull out my cell phone and text my parents to come get me. I glance at this new phone. I’m told they couldn’t find my old phone or Lennon’s and maybe it’s for the best.
I don’t want anything to sway my memories. I want them to return as organically as possible.
I glance back toward where the man was standing, but he’s gone. Maybe he was never there at all. Maybe my mind conjured him up. It seems to be playing tricks on me since I woke up from the coma, so anything is possible.
4
The key turns in my hand as I unlock the door to London’s—to my apartment. My parents stand behind me waiting for me to go in. But I can’t. I’m frozen in something akin to fear.
The living room is dark, but I scoot myself inside far enough to flip the light switch on. As soon as I do, I study the beige carpet and white walls. The couch is a light brown color. All neutral tones.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?” my mom asks.
My chest feels heavy as I search the room for anything I might remember.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
