I started to speak, but I had no great reply to his gibberish.
His head cocked to the side. “You were … you were going to get into my sleeping bag naked. You were going to get warm and then try to get some. Am I right? A little early birthday delight.”
It hurt the muscles in my lips too much to not smile. I had to grin. I had to giggle.
Fisher refused to let me be anything but happy. And wasn’t that the whole purpose in life? To find one’s happy place and stay there as long as possible? He was mine.
Bliss.
Smiles.
Giggles.
“There she is.” His already ginormous grin managed to swell a little more. He tugged my beanie down a fraction of an inch, a playful, teasing gesture.
“Can I ask you something?” My smile faded a little.
“Of course.”
“What do you fear most? Is it your memory returning and you suddenly knowing what you felt for her and why you felt it? Is it disappointing your family if you don’t marry her? Is it making the wrong decision?”
He tucked his hands into my back pockets and kissed my forehead. “It’s losing you while I attempt to do the right thing.”
“What is the right thing?”
“That’s…” he shook his head slowly as creases formed along his brow “…just it. I’m not sure. I feel like a nearly thirty-year friendship deserves something … even if it’s just a little more time. And while I don’t remember loving Angie, I’m not immune to her feelings now. I’m not immune to my family’s feelings either. And they still have this great hope that I will get my memory back. And this huge part of me, the part that loves you, doesn’t care to remember the past. But this other part feels like I can’t end this planned future without remembering my past.”
“And what if you never remember? I mean … I’m here. I’m here for you. And my heart is firm on this … I’m in it for as long as I’m in it. But my brain will eventually try to override my heart in an effort for self-preservation. You haven’t canceled your wedding. If you don’t remember by then … then what? You marry her?”
“No. I don’t marry her. I … I …”
He didn’t know. How could he?
“I postpone it.”
“You postpone it?” My jaw dropped. “You postpone something you want to happen, just at a later date.”
“What do you want me to say? What would you want me to do if you were in Angie’s shoes?”
“I’d want you to love me. Love me now. Love me without any yesterdays. And if you couldn’t love me like that, then I’d want you to let me go.”
He nodded slowly. “Then I’ll let her go.”
I couldn’t believe he said it. He said it without hesitation. He said it with such absolution it made my heart pause for a second.
So why … why did my paused heart hurt so much in that moment? Was I asking too much? It hadn’t been that long since his accident. We fell in love so quickly. And maybe that did mean everything. But did I say what I said because it was really how I would have felt in Angie’s shoes? Or was it easy to say that because I already had his love?
Why did it have to be so hard? So messy?
Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “Give it … give it more time.” I opened my eyes. “But draw a line. Like two months, six months, a year, whatever. Just draw a line so when we get there, we know it’s over. Whatever over means at that time. Then let yourself live. Because you are alive with or without the past.”