Thirty Days: Part One (31 page)

“You know why I can’t remember, don’t you?”

Sammy nods.

“And it’s obvious you two know each other well?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers before her eyes narrow with anger once more. Watching her red face and tense body fills me with a sense of panic. One of her heels stomps loudly against the floor as Marcus moves to stand beside me.

“Get away from her. Abigail, get your stuff. We are going home now,” she shouts, warding Marcus off with eyes that threaten the delivery of fire filled laser beams.

“Babe, stop.”

Mosby.

“I won’t stop, Jackson. I’m seething. Why, you arse, why?” she demands, her attention back on Marcus.

He doesn’t answer. He just stands still.

“You, me, privacy now,” she screeches.

“Right this way,” Marcus replies with a sarcastic tone. His finger points in the direction of the kitchen.

“Stay here, Abigail,” Sammy scoffs.

“Like fuck,” I reply.

“Jackson, please.” Her eyes beg him to help, and he offers a nervous half smile in return.

“Abigail, come on, just let them talk this out, okay?” When his hand reaches for mine, I grab hold with every ounce of strength I have left.

“Mosby,” I murmur, trying to keep tears that threaten to fall under control. Before long we hear the slamming of a door I believe to be coming from the direction of the library, and then there’s quiet.

“I can’t breathe,” is all I say before my legs give out and Jackson catches me.

“Come on now,” he murmurs as he cradles me in his arms.

Tears burst from my eyes, and I cry, hard. I fight desperately to stop the feeling of utter doom, but I can’t.

“It’s going to be okay. It will all work out,” Mosby offers in comfort as he lowers me onto the lounge.

“It won’t, Mosby. Apparently, I have no memory of a chunk of my life, and nobody will tell me what in the hell is going on.” I’m so breathless that I suck in noisy mouthfuls of air.

“Come on now, Abs, just breathe. I’ll find you a tissue.”

“Okay.” I snort, trying to clear my nose. Letting my head drop between my legs, I will my breathing to slow.

Jackson returns and sits beside me, rubbing small circles on my back in an attempt to comfort me.

“How about we get those tears to stop and we talk this through some, hey?”

“Okay,” I cry out, opening an even larger floodgate inside my heart.

I’m not sure how long I cry, but by the size of the pile of tissues gathering in my lap, I’d say it’s been a while. Jackson stays quiet the entire time, never resting his hand as he continues the small circles on my back.

“They’re coming this way,” he whispers before handing me another tissue and standing to his feet.

There’s no longer any anger between Marcus and Sammy, and as I turn my head and watch their approach, I notice that their faces mirror each other’s and they both look exhausted.

“Take care of my girl.” Marcus’ tone sounds distant. “I’ll be back soon.”

“God, you’re cocky,” Samantha states.

“If I remember correctly, that’s a quality you once found endearing.”

“Now I’m not so sure.” She smiles wearily before Marcus puts a feather-light kiss to her cheek. “You promised, Samantha. She’ll be here when I get back.”

“And she will be. Now you’d better go, I’ve got this.”

“Okay,” he says before brushing past Mosby, never acknowledging that he’s there.

“Abigail, I’ll be back soon. Everything is going to seem much clearer. I’ll be home when I can.”

I can’t look at Marcus, so I keep my eyes focused on Sammy, my best friend, who up until now I never really thought would betray me in such a way.

Marcus huffs before I hear the front door opening.

“Miss Dermont, Mr. Mosby, here are your bags,” Grady says.

I turn to see him placing their bags onto the floor inside the door.

“Marcus”—his hand gestures for him to come—“we need to go now, sir. They are waiting for your return.” The worried expression on Grady’s face tells me Marcus has probably not done the right thing by returning here.

With hunched shoulders Marcus walks past Grady and then he is gone without another word.

Allowing my eyes to drop to the floor, my head begins to shake.

“Pale pink is definitely not your colour, Dorothy,” Sammy says nervously, trying to break the tension by referring to the shirt I’m wearing.

“Don’t do that,” I mutter.

“What?”

“Don’t act like nothing has happened.” The room goes deathly quiet as I lift my eyes and catch Mosby’s soft smile.

“Well, what do I say, Abigail?”

“You say nothing. Shut your mouth and not say a word, that’s what you do. You were supposed to be my best friend, but you’re not. You’re my worst enemy.” I go to storm off.

“Abigail, don’t speak to her like that.” Mosby comes to her defence.

“Let her go,” Sammy reassures him as I run up the staircase and slam the bedroom door.

“Fuck everyone,” I scream as my body lands on the soft bedding, and I curl into a tight ball.

Ruse

Working up the nerve to exit the room I’ve holed myself up in for over two hours is harder than I first thought. Pacing the floor, my mind runs wild with thoughts of Marcus and our time together this morning. Breakfast in a bra, that look in his eyes as my chest heaved in and out as I ate. Marcus telling me to leave and go back to the Coast outside the courthouse right before I repeated the last words he said to me. Fuck knows when he said them, but he did. Sweet, sweet words. Visions of our bodies naked and entwined together on his bed make my stomach flutter.
“You’re mine.”
Those words were spoken so confidently.
“Do you want to know what else we used to do?”
His wicked smile is embedded in my soul forever.
What do I do now?

Stopping, I grab the doorknob and rest my head against the door.

“Are you going to talk to me yet?” Sammy’s saddened voice asks from the opposite side. I picture her in the same position as me.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know if I do?”

“I’m going to tell you what I can.”

“Why does it have to be this way, the secrets?”

“Because it’s what’s best for you.”

“Says who?”

“Says me, the doctors, Mrs. M.”

“Doctors?”
What doctors?

“Come out, Abigail, please.”

“What did Marcus do to me? What did he do that would make me erase him from my memory?” There’s an eerie silence that falls between us and my heart begins beating at a frantic tempo.

“He didn’t do anything, Abigail. It was you.”

My mouth springs open as I let out an exaggerated gasp.

“Come out, Abs, please.”

“I’m scared,” I say with honesty.

“So am I.”

Turning the door handle, I feel physically sick. I’m even worse when I see the tear soaked cheeks of my Sammy before me.

Lunging forwards, Sammy wraps her pale white string bean arms around my neck and holds me so tightly I’m surprised by her strength.

“I love you, Abigail. I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Everybody did what they thought was best for you. Even Marcus. I’m sorry I’ve been keeping this secret, but it’s because I love you. There’s a reason you forgot. It was you who decided it would be this way.” Her blubbery words are spoken so quickly, it’s as if she can’t get them out fast enough.

“But why?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, pressing her cheek against mine. “I don’t know.”

***

The afternoon sun is hot, so Mosby, Sammy, and I pull three of the lawn chairs under a shady tree and stretch out, admiring the beauty of the lake.

“This place is something else,” Mosby admires openly with an ice cold beer in hand. “Who the hell owns it?”

“Marcus said it’s Mr. Sims’ and they stay here when they are in town. I can see why. There couldn’t be a hotel nicer.”

“It’s like something from an olden day movie.” Sammy giggles.

“That’s what I said.”

“So where do we start?” I ask, drinking a pink lemonade that Ginger put together with the liquids from the fridge.

“The beginning, maybe.” Her tone sounds unsure.

“When did I meet Marcus?” I spew out before she says another word.

“Fuck,” she says before I hear her swallow hard. “The day your dad died.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It is.”

“Where, how?”

“I can’t,” she says quickly, turning her body on its side so she is no longer looking out to the river, but to my turned head.

“Why?”

“You need to remember that on your own.”

Huffing, I turn my body to face her, so we are both lying on our sides in the chairs. “Sammy?”

“Yes.”

“That was seven years ago.”

“It was.”

“Before Mike.”

“Yes, you met Mike not long after your accident.”

“What accident?”

“I can’t tell you, Abigail—”

“Because I have to remember it on my fucking own.” I glower.

Sammy closes her eyes and takes a lengthy inhale. “It’s for the best, Abigail.”

“Who’s best, yours?”

“No, Abigail, yours.”

“None of this makes any sense.”

“I know it doesn’t, but I’m trying to tell you.”

“Marcus said that what I remembered today was the last thing he said to me before he left me. When was that?”

“A few days after you woke up and couldn’t remember who he was. It was heartbreaking. You remembered everybody. Me, your mum, our friends, Brussels your mum’s cat, rest in peace, psycho kitty. You even remembered what school you went to, your professors at the university…but not Marcus and not the accident.”

“A few days after I woke up, after an accident…was I in a coma?”

Sammy nods her head.

“How old was I?”

“You were thirty days away from turning twenty when you had the accident.”

“How can you be so precise?” I’m fearful of her answer.

“Because your dad died thirty days before your eightieth birthday, two years earlier on the same date. We thought we’d be losing you forever, too.”

“Hang on, so Marcus and I were together for two years?”

Sammy nods.

“But I have memories in that time, why isn’t he in them?”

“We don’t know. You erased him. You have what they call retrograde amnesia. The doctors think that you erased the memories of anyone who came into your life on the same day as your dad died.”

“Because sometimes we choose to forget the things in life that hurt us the most.” It’s what Marcus said. “So Dad dying from the aneurism hurt me so bad, it was sudden, and we were super close, right? That’s why I forgot Marcus when I had an accident, because it was the moment that hurt me the most in my life and it was the day I met him. I’m guessing at the hospital? Holy shit, the scar.”

“You remember that?” Sammy’s eyes grow wide.

“No, but I know I’ve seen it before, like when it was freshly cut. That’s it. I met him in the hospital when they were stitching his scar. It has to be.”

“Do you ladies want anything from the kitchen? I’m going to get another beer,” Mosby interrupts, causing Sammy and I to burst into a fit of laughter. “What’s funny?” he scoffs as we both bolt upright and turn in his direction.

“I forgot you were here.” Sammy snorts loudly.

“Me too.”

“You two are crazy.” He chuckles before he starts to hike back to the house.

“Has he been there the entire time?” I choke out.

“I think so.” Sammy snorts again.

When our laughter finely calms, I lie back and watch as a contender bay boat chugs down the river. The swirls of the water as it breaks into two, allowing the boat to channel through it, holds my gaze. I have amnesia. I had an accident, so that means I must have hit my head. Ten fingers press against the front of my skull, feeling for any obvious dips or abnormalities, but there are none. I continue this process until every part of my head is examined by touch.