More Than a Memory (19 page)

I
whisper promises
I’m not certain I can keep against the top of her head long after her breathing evened out. I have to remind myself she’s angry and hurt, but her words cut me deep. From what I gather, she got an email that caused the videos of Duncan to disappear.

I could’ve argued with her, showed her my sent mail in my account to prove I didn’t do something like that, but she was breaking right before my eyes and proving my innocence became secondary. Words were said—words I have no hope of ever getting out of my head. My chest aches at the vehemence she used. There was not a trace of the emotion I saw in her eyes two nights ago. It was replaced by hatred and repulsion. I don’t know if there’s a way to come back from that. I don’t know if she’d even want to.

Knowing when she wakes she’ll push me away again has me holding her even closer now. She whimpers against my chest, but I find a shard of hope when she clings to my shirt rather than pushing me away. In my head, I imagine she knows it’s me holding her, when I know there’s a very real possibility she’s in Duncan’s arms in her dreams.

Regardless of what the outcome will be, I know I have to do everything in my power to fix this. Even though the last thing I want to do is leave her right now, I kiss her forehead, whisper words I’ve never spoken to a woman before into her soft hair, and get out of the bed.

Gathering up her shattered computer in the living room, I pray Liam’s roommate is as good at fixing computers as he is playing games.

* * *

“
H
e’s not here
,” Liam’s manic roommates says when he finds me standing in the hallway.

I knew he wouldn’t be here. He’s at the baseball practice I chose to miss to go back to the apartment to try to fix things with Olivia.

“I know. I’m here to see you.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “I charge two-hundred and fifty dollars for term papers, and they no longer come with the guarantee of beating the antiplagiarism system the professors are using. They updated their system and fucked up my enterprise.”

“That’s not…I’m not here for a term paper.” I step farther into the room, holding out the bag with the broken computer even though he sat down and swiveled his chair, putting his back to me.

“We’re in the middle of mid-terms. If you wanted Adderall, you should’ve prepared by hitting me up at the beginning of the semester like the smart ones did.”

I want to argue that if they were in fact smart, they wouldn’t need fucking pills to study, but I need him to help me and pissing him off wouldn’t benefit me right now.

“I’m not here for Adderall either. Listen, man. I need to get the files, videos, and shit off this computer.” I hold the bag out to him, hating myself for actually wondering whether Olivia would recover if they really were gone forever.

It makes me an asshole, but I’ve fallen for a girl who will never love me back, and that stings like a bitch. I don’t want him gone, or his videos destroyed. I just want to be a part of her life, a part of her, and I’m not certain that’s possible since she uses him and the videos as a crutch and a tool to push me away around every corner.

“I can’t put this shit back together. This old as fuck computer isn’t even worth it,” he mumbles as he pulls the pieces out of the grocery bag.

“I don’t need you to fix the thing, I just need the videos, pictures, and shit off it.”

“Dude, seriously, you can just get more porn. I mean, I’d be pissed if my collection was gone, but most of the fun is building it back up again.” He grins in my direction, but his inability to hear what I’m needing is driving me mad.

“It’s not porn. Fuck, it’s not even my computer. My girl got an email, said it was from me. I didn’t send an email, but then her files and shit vanished. I need you to get those files back for her.”

“Just the videos?”

I shake my head. The videos are bad enough, but I’m sure there’s more. “Pictures, videos, voice messages—anything. I need them back.”

He shakes his head. “Not gonna be cheap.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the money. I just need that shit back.” Hope sparks in my chest. I may not end up with the girl, and I may be handing her back the very thing that will keep me separate from her, but her already broken heart shattering before my eyes is not something I want seared into my brain forever.

“Give me an hour.” He turns away from me. “You can leave. I don’t like being supervised.”

“The fuck am I gonna do for an hour?” I was just going to pass out on Liam’s bed since I slept like shit last night.

“I suggest you go get your girl a new computer and a jump drive to put all this shit on once I get it back. Possibly stop by an anger management meeting on the way. Control that devil you got inside you and shit like this wouldn’t get broken.”

I don’t even argue with him about his misconceptions. All I heard was it’s only going to take an hour for him to give me Olivia back.

Taking part of his advice, I leave campus to get a computer for Olivia. The bookstore sells computers, but even the shitty ones they carry are overpriced. Once inside the electronics store, I find the smartest looking guy in the computer section and have him help me find the best computer money can buy.

“Do you need it for gaming?”

I shake my head. “No, just like getting online, watching videos, maybe Netflix and shit,” I tell him as my fingers graze the keys of a ridiculously expensive laptop.

“You don’t need that one then, dude. It has too much stuff you won’t use.” He directs my attention to a different computer.

“I need something with an awesome firewall. Something that prevents email hackers from getting in and ruining my life, destroying everything I’ve spent weeks building up.”

He narrows his eyes at me, trying to get a read on what I’m saying. I clamp my mouth shut, feeling like a fucking idiot.

“They got your porn stash, huh? That fucking sucks, man. This one,” he says, pointing to a sleek black and gray laptop, “will work best for what you need it for.”

“It’s not for porn,” I correct, exasperated, “just watching videos.”

He winks at me as if he doesn’t believe me, and I roll my eyes, giving up on the fight. “This one comes with a great firewall already in place. If you don’t feel like it’s enough, we sell programs that will lock your shit down like Fort Knox.”

“I’ll take both, please.” On the way to the register, I grab a handful of jump drives, because only having one isn’t going to be enough.

An hour and a half after leaving the psycho roommate, I’m back in the dorm room.

“Please tell me you were able to recover them,” I say as I walk in, not bothering to knock.

His face is somber when he turns around. “I was certain you were hoping to save your porn, man. I only opened one video, dude, I swear. I know I shouldn’t have, but fuck.”

I cross the room, wanting to strangle him, just knowing he watched the video of Olivia masturbating with Duncan—the same video I stroked myself to when I heard it from the other side of her door.

“You motherfucker.”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I remember watching that shit live when it happened.”

I stop in my tracks. The suicide video, not the one I was thinking of.

He swallows hard, his neck bobbing in effort. “That shit was all over campus, man. I don’t let shit like that get to me, but Liam and I were roommates last year as well, and that guy doing that shit fucked him up. He hasn’t been the same since. I take it your girl is the one the guy is talking to?”

I nod my head. “Yeah, she is. Were you able to get them all?”

“I think. I mean, I don’t know how many there are, but I got everything that was on there.”

I try to hand him a jump drive, but he holds his hand up and rejects it, offering over five instead. “I made copies, just in case.”

“I appreciate that. How much do I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Not a dime, man. I’m just glad I could save that stuff for her. This is the email address the virus
came from.”

He hands me a slip of paper. “I mean, that’s my email except for the extra period.”

“That’s how they get people to open it up. That shit hasn’t been around since the year two-thousand, but technology has changed so much since then, it’s no longer as detrimental as it used to be.”

“You sure I don’t owe you anything?”

He shakes his head before turning back to his computer and pretending like I was never here, and for that, I’m grateful.

I slide all five jump drives into my pocket as I leave the dorm and get into my truck. I spend the drive back to the apartment wondering how my arrival is going to be taken. Even doing this for her, she may still ask me to leave and I’d have to at some point. I can’t forcibly hold her against my chest forever. Eventually, she’ll call the damn cops on me.

Walking back into the apartment, I realize she’s still sleeping. I quietly place the new laptop and jump drives on her dresser and crawl back into bed with her. Smiling softly when she nuzzles against my chest, I hold her tight, knowing this may be the last time she’ll ever be in my arms.

T
he heat
of his body engulfs me and I stiffen in his tender embrace, unsure why he’s even here. The horrible things I said to him…the lies I spewed from my mouth when I was upset and angry.

“Please don’t,” he begs, his warm breath gusting over my unruly hair.

“Why would you do something so terrible?” I ask, thankful my back is to him so he can’t see my lip quiver.

Silent tears fall from my eyes and dampen the pillowcase. My entire body aches, not unlike the way it did the day Duncan passed away.

He releases one arm from around me and points toward a bag on top of my dresser. “I had Liam’s roommate recover the files. He made five jump drives with all the things from your computer on them. The email address the virus came from wasn’t mine. It had an extra period. I’d never do something like that to you, Liv. I hated finding you watching those videos, especially after sharing such an intimate moment with you, but I’d never hurt you in that way. I know you need him. I just want you to need me too.”

His words come out in a rush, as if he doesn’t get them all out now, he wouldn’t have another chance.

Relief washes over me as my eyes stay glued to the bag, the need to verify that I haven’t lost Duncan completely burning in my chest.

“I got you a new computer, too. The guy at the store assures me the firewall protection on it will stop this type of thing from happening again, but if it does, your files are all backed up.”

I feel safe in his arms, nurtured and loved, but it’s difficult to let go of the rage and anger I felt earlier. In the deep recesses of my mind, I didn’t believe he could do something so vile, but the proof was right there in front of me. The email wiped all of my recorded memories, leaving my computer and heart useless. The files may have been recovered, and for that I’m eternally grateful, but it doesn’t negate the fact that I turned on him so easily.

Will my whole life be this way? Will I turn against everyone who cares for me, all the while holding onto a man who is gone? The very same man who urged me to move on even though I could see the heartbreak in his eyes along with his insistence?

“I didn’t mean what I said,” I confess, praying he believes me, even though I only seem to speak in half-truths these days.

“I know, beautiful. You were hurting.” His words are soft and placating, but I can’t tell if he actually believes me or is only telling me what I want to hear right now.

I turn in his arms and reach up to cup his face. “I should never have said those things, Bryson. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to believe you’d do something like that.”

His eyes soften just before he closes them and nuzzles his face into my touch. This amazing man, and I seem to push him away at every turn. I swallow against the lump building in my throat when the small band of diamonds on my finger catches the light. Weeks ago, it would’ve felt like a betrayal, seeing Duncan’s ring against the healthy skin of Bryson’s face. Today, however, I’m comforted knowing he’s here, holding me, forgiving me, standing by my side.

“You deserve better than me,” I whisper. “You deserve someone who can love you with their whole heart.”

His eyes open, the dark orbs growing wet from unshed tears. They wreck me, just as they did yesterday when he came home early and caught me on the computer.

“Possibly,” he agrees, and my heart clenches, afraid he’s going to pull away. I know it would be for the best, but still pray he’s willing to settle for less than one-hundred percent of me. “But, Liv, there’s no other woman in the world besides you. I’ll take what I can get.”

“You shouldn’t settle. I can’t give you all of me when I’ll never be whole again.”

He wipes a tear from my cheek and leans in to place his lips on my forehead. “You will. One day, you’ll be unbroken, and I’ll be here every step of the way. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since I woke up, I pull him closer to my chest. His relieved breath warms the skin of my neck and shoulder.

“I can’t let him go completely,” I confess.

“I’d never ask you to.” He pulls his head back, gripping both sides of my jaw in his big hands. “But moving on isn’t the same as letting go.”

Tender lips brush against mine and his willingness to stick by my side even when I’m always trying to push him away seals up one of the tiny fissures in my injured heart, making it just a fraction more durable.

He shifts his weight so he’s lying on his back and I’m splayed at his side and on his chest. I close my eyes as his hand runs up and down my spine.

“Tell me about him.” His words are sensitive and pleading. His request doesn’t feel like a demand for knowledge, but more an opportunity to understand what things were like between the two of us.

I falter for a brief second, unsure if opening this door to him, allowing Bryson into the part of my past is the best thing. I always considered my time with Duncan sacred; precious moments only the two of us shared.

I take a moment to imagine the shoe being on the other foot, how I would feel if Bryson had lost someone he loved so much. I don’t know that I could be as considerate of his feelings as he has been with mine. I can easily admit he’s a better person—stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.

“We met my freshman year of high school, before the first bell rang for class to begin.” I close my eyes as I begin to reflect, giving a voice to the memories that have only been in my head.

He holds me closer, urging me on, giving me the strength to continue.

“He was a year older, sitting near the front steps with a group of his friends. They were older, of course. Duncan was always associating with the older kids, almost as if he was too good for kids his own age. That’s the impression I got from him that first day anyway. Couldn’t have been further from the truth. I soon realized he wasn’t hanging out with the other kids, they were hanging around him. His personality, his charm, his ability to care for others was like a magnet no one could resist.”

I laugh against Bryson’s chest thinking about Duncan sitting there with messy hair, braces on his teeth, and acne.

“Even though he was catcalling, acting obnoxious, yelling out, ‘Hey, sweet cheeks, don’t act like you aren’t impressed,’ I was drawn to him. His friends laughed at his playfulness, but when I stiffened at the attention and just walked away, he stopped, which I wasn’t expecting. I anticipated him calling me worse names, sure the goading he was getting from his friends would only egg him on, but it didn’t. When I looked back one last time before going into the school, I saw disappointment in his eyes. I thought I’d been lacking until he apologized later at my locker and I realized he was disappointed in himself.”

I pause, waiting for his judgment, waiting for him to call Duncan an asshole and try to convince me it was an incredibly shitty way to start a relationship, but it never comes, so I continue.

“We were pretty much inseparable after that. We started out as friends—my dad was pretty strict and according to him, boys shouldn’t have even been on my radar—but neither of us dated anyone else. It’s like we knew we were waiting for each other, even though the agreement was unspoken. I was terrified of making a move, even after I knew I was head over heels by the beginning of my sophomore year. He was the one who kissed me after a football game. It was quick,” I chuckle, remembering the shock on his face when he pulled away and I didn’t slap him. “We didn’t discuss it, but from then on, he found many more opportunities to kiss me.

“I started hearing chatter in the halls. He’d told anyone who would listen that I was his girl. We sort of just went from friends to being in a relationship overnight. No one was shocked, though. They could see what we were trying to deny for the longest time.

“He first got sick the second semester of his junior year, not long after we declared ourselves together. The diagnosis was almost immediate. Acute myeloid leukemia.” My voice cracks at mentioning the disease that ripped him from us, but I choke down my pain and continue. “His parents, like my own, are very wealthy. Only the best medical attention for their son. We were hopeful. He started treatments right away. By the end of his senior year, the doctors declared he was in remission—against all odds, they somehow beat the disease plaguing his body.”

I close my eyes and grip his shirt in my hand, needing a break from the pain, yet wanting so bad to speak of him out loud. With renewed strength, I begin again.

“One year,” I whisper, “we had him back, healthy, almost like his old self. He was still too weak to play ball, but they put him on the team anyway. He missed fall semester, but was at every practice. I was in my senior year in high school when he proposed.”

I hear him swallow, his only response to the story so far.

“He insisted it wasn’t too soon. ‘When you know, you know,’ was all he’d ever say. My dad wasn’t as excited. He felt we were too young. The summer between my senior year and first semester of college, he began to grow weaker. Later on, he admitted he’d been feeling bad for a while, but refused to accept he was sick again. I’m so mad at him for that.”

I shake my head against Bryson’s chest. “I
was
so mad.”

“You can still be angry, Liv. Every emotion you felt then, every one you feel now, is completely okay.”

I swallow roughly, knowing that being unable to let go of some of the emotions I’ve clung to for so long has caused problems between Bryson and me. I don’t tell him that, though, I simply placate him with a nod.

“When the leukemia came back, it was so much worse than it had been before. They tried everything—every drug, new treatments, and experimental medicine. Nothing worked. They moved him across the country for the last round of treatments. When the doctors declared him terminal, he finally got to come home. I couldn’t function. Every thought, every action on my part, was for him. I stopped going to class. Nothing mattered but him and his recovery. I wouldn’t listen to anyone when they tried to explain that it was hopeless. I never felt like it was hopeless,” I choke out, barely able to say the last words as emotion overcomes me. I sob into Bryson’s chest, the pain in my heart all too real again as he holds me tighter.