Forgetting You, Forgetting Me (Memories from Yesterday Book 1) Page 4

  “Sorry for turning up unannounced. I should have called. Do you want me to go? I can leave if you want me to.” He hooks a thumb towards the door.

  I’m speechless as I’m experiencing my personal state of unexpected nirvana.

  But Saxon mistakes my euphoria for disgust. “I shouldn’t have come.” He spins on his heel, racing towards the door.

  Loud alarm bells sound in my ears; it’s the wakeup call I needed. Looking over at Samuel, who is lying still and docile, I realize I need to touch the same life source that flows through his veins.

  My shoes pound on the floor as I sprint towards Saxon, still wordless, but a mission firm in mind. The moment he turns, I throw myself into his arms, and just like I knew he would, he catches me.

  Five

  I don’t know how long I stay nestled in Saxon’s arms. His heavy heartbeat is surprisingly comforting.

  Everything about him is so familiar, yet so foreign. His scent is rugged, earth peppered with a trace of cigarettes, while Samuel’s was always more refined, sometimes a little heavy handed with the cologne. His brawny frame is stronger, almost too firm, but he’s always been the bigger brother. It’s not a bad feeling, it’s just…different.

  I’m surprised at how easily I can compare and contrast the similarities and differences between them, considering I barely know Saxon. Although they are like night and day, and silence and sound, they are both my heaven and hell. Saxon is here to save my Samuel.

  “Saxon?” Kellie doesn’t hide her surprise at seeing her eldest son. Her clipped tone has us both pulling apart uncomfortably.

  “Hey, Kellie.” He turns around to face her, while I feel my cheeks heat. Now that I’m somewhat coherent, I realize I probably should have greeted Saxon with a handshake, rather than clinging to him like a spidermonkey. But I don’t regret it. I feel closer to Sam for some unexplained reason.

  “What are you doing here?” Even I cringe when I hear her unpleasant tone.

  “I’m here to see my brother,” Saxon replies sharply. “And I’m here because you need my blood.”

  Kellie’s scowl transforms into a smile. “Oh, Saxon. I knew you would see sense.” She rushes over to him, throwing her arms around him. I don’t fail to notice the difference between our unions.

  Saxon stands rigid, arms pinned to his side, while Kellie ignores his lack of feeling. Gregory strolls in a moment later, almost dropping the tray of coffees he holds. “Saxon?”

  “He’s here to help Samuel, Greg,” Kellie exclaims, letting Saxon go and wiping the tears from her eyes.

  Greg stands motionless, digesting what was just said. “Is it true, son?” he finally asks moments later.

  Saxon nods with resolution.

  I feel like I’m encroaching on a very private moment, but I don’t dare move.

  Greg’s eyes fill with tears and in two long strides, he’s across the room, throwing his arms around Saxon. The embrace has my heart feeling heavy.

  Saxon’s eyes lock with mine, but I can’t decode what he’s feeling. I know the last time he saw his parents harsh words were exchanged, but it appears they’re pushing those memories aside. But when Greg lets go, Saxon stands stiff, appearing unmoved by the reunion.

  I guess time doesn’t heal all wounds.

  As Kellie goes on to inform Saxon about the events of the past four days, he makes no secret that he’s openly staring at me. I silently move off to the side and lean against the wall, unable to tear my gaze from Saxon.

  His strong jaw line is coated with a dark scruff, which seems to highlight the pinkness of his full, slightly downturned mouth. A small scar licks the curve of his upper bowed lip and I wonder how he got it. His nose is straight, evenly sloped, but his eyes are what I’m mesmerized by. They’re conflicted. They yearn for annoyance, but they’re not, they look relieved, and I can’t help but wonder why.

  Realizing I’m staring, I pull out my cell and shoot a quick text to my mom, informing her of the latest news, including Sam’s muscle spasm. The thought has me sighing aloud. How long is Saxon going to stay? Now that he’s here, I don’t want him to leave. If anyone can pull Samuel out of his coma, I know it’s Saxon. They’re identical twins, for god’s sake. They’re replicas of one another. Surely he can sense what Sam is feeling. Surely he’s the one to bring my Sam back to me.

  Dr. Kepler walks into the room, doing a double take when he sees Saxon. “The twin brother, I assume?”

  Kellie beams, nodding animatedly. “Yes, Doctor, this is my other son, Saxon. He’s here to donate his blood. And also, an organ if needed.”

  I don’t know if I’m just on edge, but Kellie’s disrespect towards Saxon irks me. He’s not just a walking donor, he has feelings too. His twin brother is lying in that hospital bed, comatose. I’d like to think that affects him just as it affects us all.

  Kellie’s comment appears to roll off Saxon’s back however. “Just tell me where to go, and I’ll happily roll up my sleeve. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can leave.”

  His remark churns my stomach. I need to talk to him; I need to beg him to stay. “I’ll come with you,” I offer a little too quickly. The entire room turns to look at me. “I need some fresh air,” I add, which is a complete lie.

  Dr. Kepler nods, giving us instructions on where to go. As he informs Greg and Kellie about Samuel’s progress, or non-progress, I reach for my pink cardigan and walk out the door. Saxon’s heavy footsteps follow me.

  We walk side by side in silence, stopping once I push the call button for the elevator. Thankfully, we don’t have long to wait, and I charge inside once the doors open. The silence continues on in the cart, grating on my already shot nerves.

  I try not to make it too obvious as I observe him closely. So alike, yet so unlike Sam. Saxon has an air of confidence about him, a natural magnetic charm that have people turning heads the moment he walks into a room. But the thing is, I doubt Saxon realizes just how captivating he is.

  “Thanks for coming, Saxon,” I say, needing to drown out the static. “I know Sam appreciates you being here. So do I.”

  He nods, looking above him at the floors passing by, but doesn’t say a word.

  “Did you have far to come?” I ask, deciding to pose a question so he has to speak.

  He digs his hands into his ripped jeans pockets. The action has me tilting my head to the side, attempting to decode some of the obscure artwork inked on his arm. I can make out a queen chess piece. “I rode my motorcycle from Oregon.”

  His comment has me lifting my head. “Oregon? Your dad said you were living in South Carolina.”

  He scoffs, running the longer strands of hair through his fingers. “He has no idea about my life.”

  I’m quiet, mulling over his revelation. “How long have you been there?”

  “Over two years.”

  His clipped response is a sure sign he doesn’t want to talk about this, but I continue to delve. “Do you like it there? What about work?”

  His gaze is still rooted to the flashing floors as we descend. “It’s as good as any other place I’ve lived. I work at a garage.”

  “Oh, you’re a mechanic?” I remember he always liked tinkering around on anything that moved. “I remember—”

  But he abruptly cuts me off. “Look, Lucy.” He turns to face me while I jolt backward. “I’m not here for a social visit. I’m here to do my bit, and then I’m gone. Please don’t feel obligated to talk to me, or try to get to know me. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough and your perfect little life can return to normal.”

  My mouth falls open. “Excuse me?” He doesn’t know me, and he certainly has no clue about my so-called perfect life. “Perfect life? You have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe if you had actually acknowledged me over the years and spoken to me, rather than grunt your way through my attempts at talking to you, you’d see my perfect little life isn’t so perfect after all!”

  He has the gall to smirk, angering me further. So much for
our heartfelt reunion.

  “So you and your bit can shove it, we don’t need your help! Samuel needs people around his bedside who want to be there, not people who are keeping score of who helped who.” I end my rant with an exasperated huff. I’ve never ranted before, well, not like this anyway. It feels good.

  The elevator stops, the doors opening and allowing unsuspecting people into a spontaneous cage match. The rest of our journey is traveled in silence.

  I wait with Saxon as he generously gives blood, trying not to scowl at him because regardless of his assholeness, he’s still here, helping Samuel. The young nurse is shamelessly flirting with him, asking him a million and one questions as she labels the vials of blood she took. Unlike when I asked him about his life, he’s answering her questions politely.

  “So you ride a Harley, that’s so cool,” she gushes, watching him as he rolls his sleeve over his humongous bicep. “I’d love to see it.”

  “Sure thing. Any time you want a ride, let me know.” He smirks cockily.

  I lean back in my seat, crossing an ankle over my knee as I roll my eyes. So he’s staying now? To give Nurse Bimbo a ride? I hate to think of what kind of ride he’ll give her. On that note I stand, wanting to get back to my comatose fiancé who is far more interesting than watching the nurse make googly eyes at Saxon.

  My chair scraping along the floor interrupts the love fest. “I’m going back to see Samuel.” I half expect Saxon to push me out the door and lock it behind me, but I’m surprised when he stands too.

  He appears to be weighing up what to say, which confuses me. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

  Nurse Bimbo doesn’t hide her disappointment. “Oh, I have my break in ten minutes. Maybe you could wait for me?” I do a double take when I see a button on her scrub suit has mysteriously come undone. Some women really have no shame.

  I’ve never been a girly girl. I’ve always been more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, rather than a dress and high heels. The only makeup I ever wear is a light dusting of foundation to cover my freckles, mascara, and lip balm, and on some days, that’s too much. I’m a no-frills kind of girl, but I’m me—little Lucy Tucker. And I’m comfortable with that person.

  Nurse Bimbo over here needs a spoonful of humility. Or maybe a mirror to wipe off her clown inspired makeup. I scold myself for such thoughts as I’m not usually a catty person. “Or you could just wait in here?” she suggests, leaving nothing to the imagination.

  This awkward situation is suffocating me and I shuffle my feet, feeling like the third wheel. Saxon must be able to read my uneasiness because he doesn’t take the bait, which again surprises me. “I better go.” He unscrews the lid of a candy jar, pulling out a heart-shaped lollipop. “You were very gentle with me. Thank you.” He accents his sentence with a wink.

  I refrain from gagging as I push open the door, welcoming the medicated smell of the sterile hallway as opposed to Nurse Bimbo’s overpowering floral stench. An exit has never looked more appealing and I scurry towards it, shouldering open the door.

  The warm spring breeze butters my cheeks, and I relish in the warmer weather as it thaws out the constant chill. I ignore the fact that if all went to plan Sam and I would be in Costa de Galicia in the north of Spain, enjoying white sandy beaches and absolute seclusion from the outside world. But that’s nothing but a dream.

  Piper has been a life saver and made the dreaded calls, informing all parties of my current situation. Of course there are no refunds, but the owner of the villa we planned to stay in has kindly rolled over our funds, stating we’re always welcome to take a belated honeymoon when the time is right. Thinking about Samuel and his condition, who knows if and when that’ll ever occur.

  “I’m sorry.”

  A red lollipop dances into view, and I look down at it, cocking an eyebrow. “What’s this for?”

  “It’s to apologize for being an asshole to you earlier,” Saxon explains, waving the sucker.

  “Oh, so it’s bribery candy?” He chuckles, and the sound—it hurts. It’s identical to Samuel. Pushing those thoughts aside, I scrunch up my nose. “Thank you but no thank you. I don’t know where it’s been.” I make no attempt to conceal my disgust.

  I continue walking but jar to a stop when Saxon touches my arm. “I’m just going to have a cigarette. I’ll meet you inside.”

  Looking down at his hand on my arm, I frown; even his fingers are similar to Sam’s. Will I ever be able to stop comparing the two? I doubt it. “I’ll wait with you,” I offer, not ready to leave this fresh air behind just yet.

  We sit on a wooden bench, both quiet, our pensive thoughts filling the space between us. The landscape before us is beautifully green, filled with ponderosa pines and pretty, multi-colored wildflowers. The scenery should give one sitting before it a sense of peace, but the circumstances surrounding why they’re here no doubt taint their views—just how it blemishes mine.

  How many days, hours, minutes, and seconds will I sit here, wondering what comes next?

  “Are you going to be all right?” Saxon asks, a nicotine cloud floating on the gentle wind.

  Saxon’s intuitive nature surprises me. He’s never cared about my well-being in the past, but I suppose we’ve never been involved in circumstances such as this before.

  Deciding to be honest, I raise my shoulders in a candid shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve seen some awful things. I’ve lived them.” I subconsciously pull at my cardigan, just as I do every time I think about my childhood. “But this, this is something that is beyond words. I remember travelling to Ghana on my internship. The injustice there was unbelievable, but those people, they still smiled regardless of their shitty conditions. And they fought for their survival because they had hope. They had hope that one day their luck would change. I look up to them. I am in awe of them because I don’t have their mindset, Saxon. I can’t smile and I don’t have hope. I know if Samuel doesn’t—” My voice wavers as I place a hand over my mouth. “If Sam doesn’t ever wake, I won’t be able to smile ever again. I know that makes me selfish and ungrateful, but I don’t know how I’m going to survive without him. There are so many wrongdoings in the world, my situation is so insignificant, but…it’s…just not…fair.”

  I’m sobbing by this stage, ugly tears and nothing less. I should be embarrassed that this is the second breakdown I’ve had in the span of an hour in front of Saxon, but I’m not. He pulls me into his warm arms, allowing me to cry on his shoulder once again without any judgment.

  He can’t go. In some weird, inexplicable way he makes me feel better. He makes me feel closer to Samuel and after feeling so detached from him for days, I need that intimacy to go on. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I snuffle into his shoulder.

  A husky laughs rumbles in his chest. “Would you prefer I be mean to you instead?” A half laugh, half sob escapes me.

  Pulling away, I wipe my eyes, sniffing back my tears. I take a moment not to compare Samuel and Saxon; I take a moment to appreciate the man in front of me. “Where are you staying tonight?”

  Saxon doesn’t hide his surprise. “At a motel. I was going to head home in the morning.”

  “You could always stay…with me?” I’m attempting to sound calm, but my heart suddenly begins to race. When his uncertainty is clear, I decide to be honest. “Please…don’t go. Stay here. Stay here… with me.” I don’t know why, but I like having him close.

  I’m expecting a refusal; I wouldn’t blame him if he did. It’s not like Samuel ever went out of his way to salvage their broken relationship. He didn’t try hard enough to make amends. Saxon is here because he’s the bigger man. He’s a good man.

  “Okay,” he replies a moment later.

  “Okay?” I question, my head snapping up. Wisps of hair blow in the breeze as he nods. “Thank you, Saxon. You’ll never know how much it means to me.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips.

  Once again, my meltdown subsides; it appears that Saxon is my unexpected balm. Regardless
of this tragedy, I’m going to try and see the light. I don’t really know Saxon, but that’s about to change. I’m hoping through this tragic loss, I can gain a new friend, a friend who gives me the hope I so need.

  “We better go back in.” He’s right.

  Quickly wiping my eyes, I cringe when I see his fitted gray Harley Davidson t-shirt is stained with my tears. “I’m so sorry about being such an emotional wreck. I promise it’s the last time.”

  I start to get up but stop when he reaches out and holds onto my wrist. When I peer down, confused, he unlocks his fingers and slowly unwraps the heart-shaped lollipop, passing it to me a second later with a poignant smile.

  This time, I don’t object.

  * * * * *

  Saxon followed me home on his bike, much to the disapproval of his mother.

  I’ve never had an issue with Kellie or Gregory, as they’ve both treated me with nothing but love and respect. But her disrespect towards Saxon is showing a side to me that I don’t particularly like.

  I push down those thoughts however when Saxon strolls into the spare bedroom, freshly showered and looking ready for bed. “You didn’t have to change the sheets. Believe me; I was lucky to even get a bed in some of the shithole places I’ve stayed at.”

  I want to press, ask why he chose to sleep there in the first place, but I don’t. We’re both dog tired, and I have a feeling the getting to know you part may take a little longer than a night.

  “Okay, well, if you need anything, just let me know.” I fluff his pillow one final time.

  A happy bark sounds before excited toe tapping skids along the floorboards. “Hey, Thunder!” Saxon doesn’t hide his excitement when he bends down and pats my dog on the head.

  Thunder was a present to me from Samuel on my eighteenth birthday. He lived with the Stones while Samuel and I lived at home, but of course he came to live with us when we finally moved into our home together a little over three years ago.

  Thunder makes himself comfortable as he jumps onto the double bed. Saxon laughs a deep, husky laugh, which sends an unanticipated shiver down my spine. I’m trying my hardest to not compare him to Samuel, but it’s hard not to. Yes, his hair is longer than Sam’s and he’s covered in tattoos, but my brain still tricks me into thinking its Samuel standing before me. Wishful thinking, I suppose.