Memories of You Page 3

  Hunter’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. He hadn’t expected a confession like that. It made sense in a way. He’d never stopped to think about whether or not he was in a relationship before he’d lost his memories. But the kind of person that would leave tickets under his door, and invite him out on a blind date, that had to be someone he had been close to before, right?

  “Are we just gonna sit here all night or do you wanna go somewhere?” asked the taxi driver, who seemed somewhat annoyed by the delay. Apparently he wasn’t moved by displays of tragic romance playing out in the backseat of his taxi.

  “Yeah, sorry,” mumbled Hunter. He gave the cab driver the address to his apartment and took a deep breath as he leaned back against the seat. As he watched the city blocks pass by his window, he tried to gather his thoughts and emotions.

  His desire for independence, to prove himself to everyone who wanted to coddle him, had been all encompassing up till this point. He’d never stopped to consider whether or not he’d had someone taking care of him. Maybe his lack of cooking skill was less because of his injury and more because he’d always had someone cooking for him.

  Had he overreacted to what was probably just a simple slip of the tongue? In his desire to prove that he was a capable adult, had he behaved childishly?

  Hunter sighed to himself. Things would’ve been much simpler if he’d just stayed home.

  It wasn’t long before he was dragging himself off the elevator on the fourth floor of his building. He was tired and still just as hungry as he had been when he had left earlier. That’s what he got for running out on his date.

  He stopped short as he approached his apartment. A large cardboard box sat on the floor outside of his door. He eyed it suspiciously for a moment before approaching. It was far too soon for it to be any sort of offering from Vincent, so it must have come from someone else.

  There was no note, but it was taped firmly shut. He glanced around for any sign of who it may have come from, but there was no one.

  Frowning to himself, Hunter knelt down to pick it up. It was heavy, far too heavy to hold and open the door at the same time. Whatever was inside shifted as it was lifted and various objects clanked together. Rather than risk damaging the contents, Hunter set the box down, opened the door, and slid it across the threshold.

  A few minutes later, he had retrieved a knife from the kitchen and was cautiously opening the box. Inside were several Tupperware containers full of food. One had what looked like lasagna, another had salad, there was bread in a third, and Jell-O parfait in another. Tucked in an envelope near the bottom of the box was a small note.

  The handwriting was flowery, almost like calligraphy, and it took Hunter a moment to figure out what it actually said.

  “Just in case you get hungry before your lesson tomorrow. —406.”

  Right, that guy. His neighbor, the one that had offered to teach him how to cook. What was his name again? Leon? Something that started with an L, that much was certain. Either way it wasn’t really important right now.

  Hunter eagerly unloaded the box, dug out a clean plate from the dishwasher, and heated up some of the lasagna. The food was absolutely amazing, made even better by the fact he was ravenous by that point.

  With his hunger sated, there was nothing else to keep his exhaustion at bay. A few minutes later he collapsed, fully clothed, into bed and fell asleep.

  MORNING CAME, ACCOMPANIED by the sound of someone knocking urgently at the door to Hunter’s loft. He was still exhausted and groggy despite the fact that he’d slept for roughly twelve hours straight. He debated just lying in bed and ignoring the door until whoever it was gave up and went away. He couldn’t bring himself to go through with it though.

  Dragging himself out of bed, Hunter crossed the loft and fumbled with the lock on the front door for a moment. He slowly pulled it open and peered out into the hallway.

  “Look, I’m sorry to do this,but I couldn’t just leave things the way they were last night.” Vincent stood in the hallway looking freshly showered and rejuvenated.

  Hunter sighed to himself. “Please, Vincent, just give me some time to process all of this. Everything you said last night is a lot to take in. I’m not sure I can give you what you want.”

  “Just hear me out?” asked Vincent. “I brought coffee and doughnuts. If you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll leave and you never have to see me again. I swear.”

  Hunter tried to blink away some of the exhaustion in his eyes so he could focus a little more clearly on the figure standing before him. Vincent indeed was carrying a tray with two coffees and a bag of doughnuts. While there was still plenty of leftover lasagna in the fridge, the promise of fresh coffee and doughnuts tugged temptingly at his sleep-laden body.

  “Fine,” he relented, stepping back from the door and letting Vincent into the apartment.

  Vincent made a beeline for the kitchen with a familiarity that startled Hunter a little. He quickly retrieved two plates and carried them to the kitchen table with the rest of his treats.

  “Please, have a seat. This won’t take long,” instructed Vincent as he set out the doughnuts on the plates.

  Hunter warily approached the table. He didn’t know what to expect and he still hadn’t formulated an opinion on how he felt about the previous relationship he supposedly had with Vincent. He lowered himself into a chair and watched as Vincent took the seat across from him.

  “I was wrong to dump all of that on you like that,” said Vincent. He handed Hunter one of the two coffees. “I was frustrated and upset because the evening I planned for you was falling apart. I realize you were uncomfortable, weren’t feeling well, and I just wanted to make you feel better. But because of that I overstepped. I shouldn’t have dumped all of those emotions on your head when I’m still practically a stranger to you.”

  Vincent sighed before continuing. “I mean, as far as you’re concerned, the first time we met was outside of the elevators at the law office yesterday. So it wasn’t fair of me to bring up a relationship that means nothing to you. So, I just wanted to bring this as a peace offering. Despite what I said yesterday, I think we can be friends. I’d like to try at least, because I honestly can’t imagine my life without you in it. Even if that means we’re just friends. I don’t care.”

  Hunter looked away. It was difficult, trying to deal with someone else’s emotions when you weren’t even sure what your own feelings were. Part of him still wanted to cut ties with everyone and leave. Start over fresh somewhere else where no one expected anything of him.

  But that wasn’t an option. Not for someone with no job and no prospects. He had to stay here and because of that these people would remain in his life.

  He looked back at the man sitting across from him. The look of sincerity on his face sent daggers through Hunter’s heart.

  “You need to understand that the Hunter you loved doesn’t exist anymore,” said Hunter, trying to sound firm but kind. “I’m not him. I may look like him, but I don’t have any of the memories or experiences that made him who he was. You can’t put that expectation on me.”

  Vincent said nothing but looked down at his coffee dejectedly.

  “You seem like a really great guy,” continued Hunter. “And I get that you were just trying to look out for me. If you’re willing to be patient with me, then I think I’d like to get to know you a little better. I just need you to understand that I’m not the same person anymore.”

  “And maybe you can understand I might slip up from time to time, and while I know logically that what you’re saying is true, I still look at you and see the man I loved.” Vincent looked up at him slowly, hope shining in his eyes.

  “Then we just take this one step at a time. Okay?” suggested Hunter, reaching across the table and touching Vincent’s hand.

  “Yeah, okay,” agreed Vincent with a smile that drew Hunter in.

  For a moment he understood how his past self had fallen in love with this man. He wondered if that
sort of romance was possible for him now.

  Chapter Four

  Sleep had been elusive for Luke but that was nothing new. He could barely remember the last time he had slept well. Dreams and guilt about Hunter’s accident had been robbing him of sleep for weeks now. Last night’s restlessness was because of something else entirely. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Excitement.

  Luke eagerly climbed from his bed as daylight poured into the loft. He was eager to work, to put his brush to a canvas, and share the hope blooming in his chest.

  The canvas he had worked on yesterday was still sitting on the easel near the kitchen. Its gloomy skyline of the city bled negative emotion like an open wound. Luke hated it even more now than he had the day before. He was tempted to paint over it and start again, but he decided against it.

  Instead, he moved it from the easel and set it against one of the far walls, tucked out of sight behind several other canvases.

  Placing a fresh canvas on the easel, Luke began to paint.

  Smatterings of greens and browns began to form a grassy hill and the wood chips that were scattered around a playground. Slowly, the base of the playground itself began to emerge. This park was one Luke and Hunter had visited often, and it sat only a few blocks away. On sunny days, children and their parents flocked to the playground. Musicians, dancers, and mimes would vie for attention and tips at the fountain nearby. A food truck and an ice cream cart would set up shop along the sidewalk. People walked their dogs, threw Frisbees, and enjoyed the outdoors. Those walks to the park with Hunter were some of his fondest memories.

  Hours slipped by and if it wasn’t for the sudden angry growling of his stomach, Luke may have kept painting all day. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon. He had a few more hours before he was supposed to give Hunter his cooking lesson.

  The painting was coming along nicely, but it was still far from complete. His usual work, the stuff he’d become famous for, was less focused on the details and more about capturing the feeling of the city as a whole. Critics had often commented they could feel the vibe of the city without ever actually having visited it themselves. This ability to capture things in a way other people could easily understand was one of his best qualities they told him.

  This one was different. In fact, he’d already decided, the entire gallery show he was painting for Allen would be full of highly detailed pieces that captured the nuances of the city. They weren’t picture perfect representations, but instead he wanted to capture the feeling of a trip to the park on a sunny day. The feeling of walking alongside your loved one on a perfect afternoon. If he could do that, he believed he would transcend his previous work and grow as an artist.

  As he dug through the refrigerator for sandwich supplies, his mind began to wander away from his work. He needed to mentally prepare himself to spend time with Hunter. What was he going to say? What was he going to teach him?

  They could start off easy. Spaghetti was simple. He had all the ingredients already. He’d actually taught Hunter how to cook spaghetti once before. It hadn’t gone well actually. A smile touched Luke’s lips as he built his sandwich and recalled how frustrated Hunter had been when he’d tried to strain the water out the noodles and had ended up dumping them all into the sink. He would just have to make sure to have a colander on hand for that.

  He ate his sandwich while glancing through the cupboards for ingredients. He had a box of chocolate cake mix, and while it wasn’t as good as one made from scratch, it was simple. If Hunter’s sweet tooth was the same as it had been, then a cake would definitely go over well.

  Luke checked the time again as he set his empty plate in the sink. He had about four hours left. Plenty of time to get a little more work done on this painting.

  As he picked up his brush again, he did a little mental calculation. If he managed to do a new painting every day, he’d have about thirty of them done before the end of the month. The gallery had enough room for about fifty paintings, less if he worked on a larger scale. He could call Allen up later and tell him to plan the gallery opening for about two months from now. That would give him plenty of time to get everything done and still have time to dedicate to renewing his relationship with Hunter.

  Luke worked feverishly on the painting. It had been a long time since paint had flown this easily from his brush and he revelled in the feeling of it. It was satisfying to see the image taking shape on the canvas.

  Layer after layer of paint built up on the surface. The warmth of a summer afternoon radiated from the image and grew stronger with every brushstroke.

  All he needed was a little more.

  A knock at the door startled him from his work. The easy stream of consciousness ground to a halt as he glanced at the time. It was already almost six.

  Swearing under his breath, Luke set aside his brush and made his way towards the front door. It was only after he’d opened it that he realized he’d never gotten dressed that morning and was standing in his boxers.

  “Oh, sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t...I’ll just...” Hunter blushed a deep red at the sight of the barely clothed man in front of him.

  “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I lost track of time.” Luke’s alpha personality was deeply satisfied he had been able to make Hunter blush so easily. “Let me throw some clothes on and we can get it on...” Luke winced and rushed to correct himself, “That is, get on with the cooking lesson.”

  “Yeah, n-no problem,” Hunter said as he shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. “U-um, so my place or...?”

  Luke glanced over his shoulder back into his apartment. Dozens of canvases painted with Hunter’s face stared back at him from their various locations across the room.

  “Well, um, yours is fine if you’re more comfortable there,” suggested Luke with a nod as he looked back at Hunter. “I’ve got everything we need, so I’ll gather it up and be over there in five minutes tops.”

  “Okay, yeah that’s fine with me,” said Hunter as he began to withdraw. He seemed both reluctant and eager to leave Luke’s presence. “See you soon,” he added quickly as he spun on his heel and rushed back to his apartment.

  Luke smiled to himself as he withdrew back inside. Knowing he had at least some effect on Hunter still was reassuring. Even if it was aided somewhat by the fact that he was practically naked.

  Smiling to himself, Luke quickly set off in search of clothes.

  “SO WE’RE JUST GOING to bring the water to a boil,” instructed Luke as he stood back and let Hunter turn up the heat on the stove.

  Standing in Hunter’s kitchen again felt almost irreverent in some way. Luke glanced around the interior of the loft, his eyes lingering on various locations where pictures of them together once hung. He felt a momentary pang of guilt when he caught sight of the blank wall where a large painting had once made its home.

  “It’s weird, right?” said Hunter, catching sight of Luke’s stare. “You’ve been in here before, haven’t you? Do you remember if I used to have a painting there or not? It feels like there should be one.”

  “Yeah, I think you did,” said Luke slowly nodding. “Maybe you got rid of it?”

  “I guess,” said Hunter with a shrug. “I don’t know. It just keeps bothering me. I feel like something’s missing.” His expression turned sour for a moment before he forced a laugh. “I guess I could say that about a lot of things actually.”

  “I know you’re probably tired of sharing your story...” began Luke.

  “But you want to hear it for yourself,” finished Hunter with a sigh. “I mean, I don’t blame you for being curious. I probably would be too if I were in your position.” He shook his head slowly. “What the hell, I mean I’m probably going to have to tell this story to every new friend I make for the rest of my life anyway, right?”

  Hunter leaned against the kitchen counter and looked down at his feet. “I obviously don’t really remember what happened. I just know what my mom and the doctors told me. It was back in
October. There was a cold snap. I guess I was in a hurry and slipped on a patch of ice on the sidewalk outside. The doorman saw everything and was right there calling 911 as soon as I hit the pavement.” He took a deep breath and looked up again. “I didn’t wake up for several days. Apparently it was pretty touch and go there for a while. When I did wake up I didn’t remember who I was or much of anything really. I could barely even talk. I had a month of therapy just to learn how to walk again. Everyone was taking really good care of me, but it was stifling, you know?”

  Hunter’s expression changed to one of determination. “I mean, it was already incredibly frustrating to not know anything about anything. I was basically this blank slate. I still struggle with things like basic math and, obviously, cooking. But then I’ve got doctors, nurses, therapists, and my mom constantly hovering over me trying to take care of me. Telling me not to push myself too hard.

  “I couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the bubble they were trying to put me in. How am I supposed to relearn anything if I can’t go out and experience it? So I pushed myself. I taught myself how to walk again. I practiced talking. I read everything I could get my hands on. I basically forced myself through the first seven years of childhood education in two months just so I could get my mom to let me move back into my own apartment.” Hunter clenched his fists and sighed.

  “Sorry, I went off on a tangent there. So many people ask what happened, but they don’t actually want to know what I went through. They just want surface details. ‘I bumped my head, forgot everything, but I’m back now.’ That’s what they want to hear. I’m tired of not being able to tell anybody what I’ve actually gone through. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear...” his voice trailed off and he suddenly looked uncertain of himself.

  “No, it’s fine,” reassured Luke. He desperately wanted to pull Hunter into his arms and kiss his forehead. He wanted to whisper into his ear that everything would be alright. But this was reality, not some fantasy land. He was a stranger to Hunter and he needed to remember that. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me all of that. I’d like to think we were pretty good friends before, but I don’t want you to base how you feel about me on a relationship you don’t even remember.”