He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be wrapping his arms around my body, his hands on my back, his chin resting on my head, like we should be together.
Because we shouldn’t.
“No.” I whisper as I move, dragging my body away from his. Each cell screaming in pain as I do, wanting only to cleave to him, to be close to him.
“Noemie,” he says, as I extract myself from his embrace. “What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing here, really, Jez?”
There’s an instant furrowing of his brow, and his eyes cloud as he looks at me. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the look he first gave me when I told him I didn’t know who he was, that day in the hospital.
Confusion.
“What do you mean? I came to tell you, that it was all a lie. You were never responsible for that accident, Noemie. It was never you.”
“No, it was my best friend,” I say. Even though I don’t know when I’ll really be able to fully accept it.
“Yes.”
“Who’s been lying to my face for three months. And I had no idea. I trusted her. Completely.”
“You had no reason not to, sweetheart.”
I feel my head shake, side to side. He doesn’t get it. I get up to my feet. My head feels clearer up her.
“No, I did have a reason. Because I knew. I knew, Jez. I knew that there was no way I would’ve got behind the steering wheel that night.”
“Well, you didn’t remember what happened.”
“No. I told you. Didn’t I tell you, that I know myself, I know that I didn’t do it! I might not have remembered the exact details, but I knew I didn’t do it.”
“It’s been a confusing time, but it’s over.”
“No! Listen to me! You don’t get it!” I yell, desperate for him to understand.
“Explain it to me, then.” He looks up at me, still kneeling on the ground.
“I told you I knew. I knew it in my bones, in my marrow that it wasn’t my fault. I know me. And I would never be so irresponsible as to drive drunk. You heard Paige! I was trying to get her to stop driving when she was drunk. I wouldn’t do it myself!” I pace in front of him, incomplete thoughts forming an argument in my head. “Jez. I knew it. But I never followed up on it. I woke up from the coma, and they told me I caused the accident, that I was driving, my blood alcohol was over the limit, and even though I felt it in my bones that I couldn’t have done it, I didn’t have the belief in myself to find out more. I just put it down to my amnesia. That something had happened that night, and I had done something completely out of character.”
“Well, that’s understandable.”
“But it’s not excusable. I should’ve backed myself up. I should’ve fought for myself. You… you should’ve fought for me.”
“Noemie.”
“No, you should’ve… you should’ve given me at least the tiniest benefit of the doubt. Because I told you. I told you!”
He gets up on his feet, following me as I pace. “I’m sorry, can you blame me? It was a confusing time. I had just been ambushed with the news that you, you were the one driving the car that hit me. And if that wasn’t bad enough, that you were drunk at the time. I didn’t have any reason not to believe them.”
“You’re right. About most of it. You had almost every reason but one. Me. You should’ve believed me.” I point to my chest, where I’m radiating hurt from the betrayal of my best friend. And the lover I keep losing.
“Noemie.”
“You came to me, a stranger out of the mist, telling me you knew me. And everything told me I didn’t. But I chose to believe you. And I let you in.”
“Why?”
“Because something told me I could trust you. But you can’t say the same about me.”
“We can work through this, Noemie. So much needs to be explained, talked about, understood about what really happened.”
“It won’t matter, Jez. In the end, I didn’t fight for myself, and you didn’t fight for me either.” It’s over. I know it is.
“No. This is bullshit. I DID fight for you. I fought YOU for you. You say you believed me in the beginning, but you didn’t. Not really. But I was there, every step. Making you trust me. I am NOT letting you go.”
“You’re right, I didn’t believe you, at first. When you came barreling into my hospital room like a maniac! It doesn’t take a brain injury patient to be wary, anyone with any common sense would be. But after the initial shock, I was all in. I was so all in I was ready to marry you. Jez! And I still would’ve. Until I became the thing you hate most. And you were just so ready to believe it all.”
“Noemie, please understand, it’s a grudge I have. I couldn’t get over it at first.”
“And now?” I throw my hands up, what else is there to say.
He sighs, “You’re not that person.”
“But I might as well have been, Jez. Where we stand with my memory, you’re just a stranger I used to know. And I’m the girl who hit you with my car.”
“We’ll get your memory back. I remember it, I remember it all. I can help you. I’ll remind you every day,” he says clasping his chest, like his is hurting him too. And it takes every ounce of strength I have not to run to him, and hold him. Because it will just make it harder to leave in the end.
“No. I can’t. I want to. God knows, I want to be with you so much, I’d almost give it all up for you. Lose myself in you. Live through you.”
“So, come, be with me!”
“No, maybe I would’ve before, but I can’t now. I let my injury dictate so much, so much that I was willing to believe something I knew I would never have done. That’s not who I am. I don’t want to exist just as someone you fell in love with, and you’re trying to recreate. I need to find out who I am.”
“Don’t do this. I just got you back, Emmie.” His voice catches, cracking as he calls me by my nickname. It springs tears to my eyes.
“That person doesn’t exist, Jez.”
“You’re not your brain injury.” He catches my hand and presses it to his chest. “You exist in here as well, Emmie. And you exist as this living breathing person in front of me.”
If words could make everything alright, those would be it. But it’s not as easy at that. I gently extract my hand from his.
“But I’m not whole.”
“You don’t have to be. Remember how you once said you wanted every jagged, broken piece of me?”
“I still do, I always will,” I say, hoping at least he will remember that. That this was never about how much I wanted him.
“Then let me do that for you.” His eyes fill with a desperation I know too well, felt too well, just a few months ago.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I… I need to find out who I am, not just try to regain who I was. Maybe now it’s your turn, to forget you ever met me.” I reach up and touch the side of Jez Petrescu’s face one last time before I turn and walk towards my house.