NYSSA
The door to a penthouse opened, revealin’ the large livin’ room with many pictures hangin’ on the walls. Some of them had me in them and some, Kazmir who I turned to look at. “You have a beautiful home.”
Yeah. A beautiful home I can’t recall. Not even one piece in the house is recalled. Why did I not run away? I questioned myself, takin’ a seat on one of the plush couches I admired already.
Everythin’ I set my eyes on – except of course things I had seen before now, looked new to me. The penthouse – its livin’ room and even pictures of myself, looked new to me. “It’s your home. Our home.” The voice of my ‘husband’ – a man I was not yet used to, rang in my head. “I’ll prepare a bath for you.” He added and left the space, leavin’ me in the grand livin’ room.
What happened to ‘im takin’ me to my room? Or was it safe to say ‘our room’? Since we are married even though I didn’t know, I should be taken to a room we once shared that I know nothin’ ’bout.
The next time he showed up, he was smilin’. “Come on, baby,” he called out to me, who got on my feet. “Come, it is time for you to take a warm bath and have the meal I prepared in advance for your return to our home and my arms.”
I didn’t know how to react to these words. Like a sheep, I obediently followed Kazmir into a room I didn’t recognize. It looked like a room for two and on each side of the bed were tables with each our pictures hangin’ on them.
It was convincin’ enough, and I believed at this point that I must work towards gettin’ back my senses. “Thank you, Kazmir,” I grabbed the towel from ‘im and watched ‘im walk to the door. “How long have ‘we’ had this apartment?”
He turned around.
“It’s been a year and some months, honey. Would you love to see the document? It was written in our name. We bought it a few months after our weddin’ and moved into it as soon as payment was made.”
“No-” I shook my head, strippin’.
The look on his face at the sight of a woman, ‘his wife’ goin’ naked, looked as though he wasn’t likin’ the sight of it. Was I no longer his wife? I thought as I covered myself with the towel. I continued.
“I don’t want to see the document, Kazmir. I believe everythin’ you’ve said – I’m only lookin’ for ways to get my memories back. Nothin’ more.”
I was in the grand bathroom, lookin’ in the mirror. This isn’t my life, not for one moment. But how can I prove this when there is nothin’ like proof to back up my thoughts?
Later, after my bath, I sat up on one of the chairs in the dining area of the penthouse. A lot went through my mind but it was cut short when the aroma of a well-prepared meal came into my nostrils. “Food is ready, darlin'” My husband walked to the table with a tray in his hand. “Did I forget to ask you to walk around the house? You can’t stay in a place for so long, you know.”
“I just got back,” I said. “I’m tryin’ to adjust.” I ate the soup that was served, lookin’ up and smilin’. “Did you make this?”
“Yes,” the man gave a nod. “I run a restaurant in the city, just in case you have also forgotten.” He ate from his plate and looked up, still smilin’. “Do you like the meal, darlin’?”
I could not lie – not ’bout this meal.
“I love it, Kazmir,” I confessed and looked back at the plate. “Thank you,” I added and sipped the last drop of soup from the spoon. “I would love to have another bath before sleepin’, do you mind?”
“No, I don’t,” the man said. “Why do you act as though you are my maid? You are my wife, Nyssa. You own many rights to burn this apartment if you choose to. You know?” He was on his feet and takin’ the tray from my side. “From tomorrow, you’re free to cook if you want to, and whene’er you feel I should do it for you, let me know. Do you understand me?”
I gave ‘im a nod.
Days later, I was used to livin’ in this penthouse. The livin’ room no longer looked strange, and neither did the house. Kazmir was good to me, in all ramifications. He brought back goodies whene’er he came from work, and asked how my day went, includin’ if I wanted somethin’ while my usual response was ‘no’.
It was the weekend, so we spent some time in the livin’ room, our gazes fixed on the screen of the large television. I turned to look at the man who was my ‘husband’, watchin’ ‘im meet my gaze also. “What is the matter, darlin’?”
“I wanted to talk with you ’bout somethin’,” I let out. “It has to do with recoverin’ myself and senses – bein’ able to recall what used to happen in my life before the accident.”
“Oh, no,” Kazmir said. “What ’bout it, darlin’?” Seein’ the conversation was goin’ to last a while, he paused the program on the screen of the television. “You are thinkin’ too much again, aren’t ya?”
“Not really, Kazmir.”
What did he expect?
That I was not bothered ’bout everythin’ goin’ on. “Take a look at you, babe,” I started. “You have all your senses intact, unlike me who cannot recall a thing. What would you have me do? Be calm ’bout it?”
“I’m not askin’ you to not be calm, darlin’,” the man smiled as he flinched closer. “I’m only askin’ to let life take its course. You know what I mean? What do you suggest we do if not that?”
What was he sayin’?
“You-” I stuttered. “You said we can work on this when we get back home. And this is home, why haven’t you done what you promised to do?”
He heaved a sigh. “Oh, that.”
One reason to not trust ‘im.
“Yes, that,” I let out. “It was a promise you made, Kazmir – why are you not keepin’ to your words?” I was hurt, uncertain, and regrettin’ everythin’ startin’ from the accident down to the fact that I should have run away from the hospital the night I had the idea.
“You have every reason to not believe me, darlin'” he began. “But you must also know that I have been doin’ so much research ’bout amnesia – startin’ from how to regain memories that have been lost and up until now, I’m workin’ on it.”
I felt better but didn’t show it.
“I still think-” he shifted even closer. “I think we shouldn’t bother ’bout these in the meantime, you know? We have other things to do than bother ’bout memories that will haunt you.”
I looked at ‘im. “What are you try’na say? Is there somethin’ you want to say, Kazmir?” I was on my feet, facin’ ‘im that as gazes were directed at each other. “Tell me ’bout it. I’m certain I’ll recall these things without much stress.”
“I don’t know anythin’, honey,” he joined me on my feet. “I was only sayin’ it’s better we avoid these things than run back to them or don’t you think the same?”
“How can you know nothin’ ’bout me? We’ve been married for over a year according to you and you don’t even know a thing to bring back my memory. How is this possible, Mr. Draven?”
He heaved a frustrated sigh. “I’m afraid you don’t need to know these things, Nyssa.”