NOEMIE
I’m so shocked that it takes me a moment to realize that he’s leaving.
“Jez!” I call out after him, my feet finally on the move. I turn into the hallway, but he’s already too far ahead. “Jez!” I call out again, just as I see him walk into his room and pull the door closed. But the time I get there, the curtain is pulled and I can’t see into his room. The bodyguard stands up and gently touches me on the shoulder.
“He doesn’t want to see anyone right now. I’m sorry.”
“Please! I really need to…”
“Sorry. I can’t let you in,” he cuts me off. And from the look on his face he really is sorry. I know, though, that there’s nothing I can say or do that will change his mind.
I stand there for a moment, my forehead leaning against the cold glass, willing him to surprise me and appear on the other side. But he doesn’t.
I sigh, and walk back to my room, trying to make sense of what has just happened.
He kissed me.
And I kissed him.
He might’ve made the first move, but there was no question, it’s what I wanted. Maybe even more than he did. And now I want him even more. My body is still zinging with the emotions from being pressed against him.
His breath was my breath. With one kiss, he brought me alive, and destroyed me all at once.
***
He’s not at the elevator the next day at the time for his PT appointment. His curtain and door were pulled closed whenever I peeked out of mine to see if he might be available to talk. But I thought he’d at least make it to his PT appointment.
But he’s not there.
I wait for over half an hour.
Toni gives me a long look as I stand there, but she says nothing.
Eventually I go downstairs and Brian tells me that Jez has organized his own PT and won’t be using the hospital’s services anymore.
He gives me a look similar to Toni’s, and tells me that I’ve been really helpful in Jez’ sessions.
And thanks me.
He thanks me for helping Jez. And I have to hold in a snicker. I’m helping Jez for me. Because I want him well and healthy. For me. Everything I do for Jez is for me because I care about him so much. This mystery man from my past that I don’t remember has become my reason for everything.
***
“So, I’ll be back around 5 p. m. tomorrow, okay? To pick you up. I’ll take what I can today, and grab the rest tomorrow.” Paige rambles on as she has all day.
“Okay,” I say, absentmindedly. I’m not really listening to what she’s saying, just staring out the window.
“Oi!” she yells, finally getting my attention.
“Wha?”
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”
“Argh. Paige — when we get home, you will only get to ask me that once a day. If I’m not lying on the floor unconscious or bleeding from the head, just assume I’m okay.”‘
“Fine, sorry for caring.” She pouts and I roll my eyes and poke my tongue out at her. “Ugh. you’re lucky I love you.”
“Very lucky, the luckiest.” I shoo her away and start packing the last of my clothes and things into the suitcase she left for me. There’s not much. Just a few pairs of jeans, a book or two.
And my ukulele. I didn’t let her touch that.
I run my fingers over it, and the song from last night instantly appears in my head again. It’s still early and I don’t want to bother the other patients, so I just sit and listen to it in my head.
Grabbing the music manuscript paper that’s always in my uke case, I start writing it down.
Note by note the song appears in front of me. Like words on a page, but better. I play the music over in my head, checking my mistakes, and then I add the lyrics.
I can’t help but tear up as I write. This song is the best thing I’ve ever composed.
The truest, most honest. The simplest.
And a part of me wishes that I could play this song for the world, because then they would understand me.
It’s done.
I print the title on top and place it on the tray.
Finish packing, Noemie, I tell myself. It’s time to go home.
JEZ
There’s an envelope on the floor by the door when I wake up; it must’ve been slid under there sometime during the night. I can see my name scribbled on the front. But there’s nothing else that tells me what’s inside.
Well, it’s not a bloody bomb, I think. No reason to be so scared.
I sigh and get out of bed and pick the envelope off the floor.
I brace myself for my fingers to scream with pain, but they don’t ache more than a little. My progress gives me a little hope to start the day. I hold the large envelope in my hands, turning it over. It’s thick, maybe 4-5 pages of paper inside. I hold it up to light but there are no extra clues.
I take a breath and tear it open, pulling the flat sheets from the yellow envelope.
It’s from her.
I can tell from the handwriting. Sloped, large loops, deeply romantic.
It reads,
Dearest Jez,
I’m leaving today.
Apparently my brain’s problems are not physical, and if it weren’t for not forgetting you, I’d think everything was back to normal.
But it may never be.
Anyway, I’m leaving today.
But I have something for you.
I hope it tells you everything we never had the opportunity to say.
Take care.
– N
I peel the front sheet from the stack and place it gently on the bed.
It’s music.
She’s written a song. She’s written me a song.
The notes play themselves in my brain when my eye scans over them, like the rest of the world reads words.
It’s the piece she was tinkering with the other night while I stood outside listening.
It’s beautiful.
And then I read aloud the words written underneath.
Pour Jeremy.
For Jeremy.
For me.
I hug it to my chest. A piece of her to keep with me, forever.
***
“So, we’re going to take you to the Beverley Wilshire for a while, give you some time to adapt to not being in the hospital and having round-the-clock care. Then you can decide if you want to stay here or go back to London. Wherever you decide, you name it, we’ll be there,” Dennis tells me.
“Fine,” I tell him, not that it matters.
“Can I have these?” Brad holds up a pair of the hotel slippers. He drops them on the floor and slides his feet into them before I can answer. Emily rolls her eyes and gives me a wink. I smile back at her, and how obviously in love with him she is. Lucky bastard.
I look around the room. They’re all paired off. Cadey and Seb. Emily and Brad. Even Marius… is with my little sister, Anca.
We’re still us, I guess. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that they’re happier than I’ve ever seen them. And I’ve been with them pretty much every day since we were thirteen years old.