Say You'll Remember Me(53)

This was what they meant when they talked about the one who got away. She’s the woman you never stop remembering, the one who haunts you. The one who stays at the front of your mind even when decades pass.

And I had to figure out how to make this work. I had to.

I didn’t have any choice.





Three hours later we were lying naked in her bed, looking at each other. Our bare legs tangled under the blankets. The only light in the room was from the pale glow of the lava lamp on her nightstand. Pooter was curled up at our feet. It was sometime around 2:00 a.m.

I reached out and brushed the hair off her forehead.

“You are in so much trouble,” she whispered.

“I like this kind of trouble.”

She gave me a mock stern look. “I can’t believe you faked a conference.”

“I’m beginning to think there’s a lot of irrational things I would do for you,” I said.

She went quiet. “How is this going to work?”

“I will make it work.”

She looked like she didn’t believe me.

“I know myself, Xavier. I’m not built for this kind of relationship. I like togetherness. I like to see the person I’m seeing.”

“We’re just going to have to try harder than other couples.”

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “This is so fucked up.”

“I know.”

“It’s impossible.”

“I know,” I said. “Believe me, I have turned this over in every way you can imagine. And at the end of it, I just can’t. I can’t not see you. It’s too miserable. I’m just going to have to figure it out. I’ll come as much as I can. I could probably come once a month at least.”

She looked back at me, her eyes sad. “I was miserable too,” she said softly.

My stomach tightened at the admission that she felt the way I did. Probably not exactly the way I did, but it was something.

“I thought about you every minute,” I said. “Even when I wasn’t thinking about you, I was.”

We studied each other quietly.

I reached out and touched her earlobe. “How is this?”

“Fine. I still can’t get an earring in it though.”

I rubbed the soft skin gently between my fingers, feeling the small scar. I hated that she had this, but I liked that I knew why. I’d been there for it, knew the story.

Even bad memories are sacred in their own way.

A car alarm chirped outside. Samantha looked over her shoulder. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah…”

She got up and went to the window wrapped in a blanket and peered through the blinds.

“What is it?” I asked, getting up.

“It’s my dad…”

I leaned down next to her and looked out. A man was in the front seat of a Honda, backing out of the driveway with the headlights off.

“What the hell?” she said. “What time is it?”

I looked at my watch. “Two oh eight.”

She wrinkled her forehead.

“Did you ever find out where he went that night?” I asked.

She let the blinds snap closed. “Sort of.” She looked up at me. “He said he had a toothache and needed to get some Orajel.”

Her brows were furrowed.

“What?”

“I’m just pondering the strange and unusual habits of elder Gen Xers,” she said. “So mysterious. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How did it end? With your parents. Like when you went to go live with Jesse?”

“Why are you thinking about that?” I asked.

“Just thinking about my parents a lot lately,” she said. “Curious about yours.”

I went quiet for a moment. This was another story that no one knew but the guys. And again, they only knew because they’d been there.

But I wanted her to know.

I wanted her to know everything about me, the things that shaped me and how I felt about them so she could make a decision about how she felt about me.

“I had a learning disability,” I said. “It was an eye condition called convergence insufficiency. The muscles in my eyes were weak and it made my vision hop around on the page, so I couldn’t read well. It doesn’t show up on a standard eye test, and it’s easy to correct with physical therapy, but my parents didn’t really care to dig any deeper and figure it out. So I struggled all through middle and high school. The only class I did well in was 4-H. I liked the animals. I was in special ed classes at one point, but I couldn’t get caught up. And I would be punished for it. Badly. I was called every name I think you can imagine in this situation. I was called those names instead of my name.”

She stood there, staring at me.

“In eleventh grade, I got my report card. My dad came at me with a belt, like he usually did, saying the things he usually said. Only this time I was taller than him and stronger than him and it didn’t go the way he thought it would.

“I went to Jesse’s house, with a fat lip and a torn shirt and I told his mom and dad everything. And to this day I don’t know what they said to my parents, but they left my house with a suitcase of my clothes and my birth certificate and social security number, and after that, I lived with them. We got my eyes figured out, and I graduated with all As. I put myself through college, then veterinary school. Two years ago I opened my own office. My parents really didn’t think that I would amount to anything. So I have spent the last thirteen years proving them wrong.”