THE WAY WE WERE

CHAPTER 8: TOM'S POINT OF VIEW

F--- I did what I had to do. But why do I feel like shit? Why do I feel numb? Why did seeing her cry hurt me deep inside? I don't even know this chick. I mean I guess I do, I guess from what mom tells me I love her. And I admit that my body reacts to her. She's beautiful. I see why I fell so hard. When I was in a coma. I could hear her voice. Talking to me. I lied to her. I said it annoyed me, but it didn't. It made me feel peace. I didn't know where I was. It was dark. I couldn't see anything. My head hurt. My body wouldn't move. I couldn't talk, and I felt alone. Scared. But then I heard her. Talking to me. her voice soothing me. When she talked, I didn't feel scared. When she talked I didn't feel alone. When she didn't talk, when she was quiet, then the being scared came back. Who was this girl? She acted and talked like she knew me, like I knew her intimately. She gave me sponge baths. Her hands so soft, so smooth.

She called me babe or baby. She kissed me. I could feel it on my face. She was gentle when she touched me. She smelled so good. Her hair, kind of like a beachy smell or coconut or strawberries. Not sure but I loved that smell.

She cried so much; it made me feel bad. I wanted to stop her tears. But who is she.

When I woke up. I don't know. I couldn't wait to see who this girl was, and she was beautiful, more beautiful than I had pictured when I was trying to think what she could look like hearing her voice.

But when I looked at her, instead of making me feel good and peace, it made me angry. Because I saw fear in her eyes. I saw hurt in her eyes. When she realized I didn't know who she was. And I was angry at myself. She's beautiful. She's sweet. She's an angel, and I didn't know who she was. How could I not know who she was. I mean she loved me; she told me that, and I didn't know who she was. And then I reacted to that, in anger, and I saw that she was hurt. I saw tears in her eyes. 

And I knew right then right there that I had to protect myself. Protect my heart. I knew that she was talking about our wedding in Vegas, and our renewing our vows in front of friends, and I knew that couldn't happen. Because she would end up hating me. End up resenting me. End up only wanting to be with me out of pity or guilt or because she took vows.

I didn't know her. She was a stranger to me. And when she realizes that she is going to leave me. I'm damaged. I lost a year of my life. They probably won't let me be a cop at least not for a while. I'm having headaches. My balance is off. My blood pressure is too high. I lose my temper.  Doctor said I could get disability short term. To not pressure myself to move too fast to get back to work. That it's a miracle I'm alive and in as good of shape as I'm in.

But I am a cop. I know that with memory loss, they are going to make me take tests, physical but mental ones. And I would fail. I'd let my dad down. My mom down. And this woman who is my wife down.

I knew from her sweet soothing voice, even before I saw her, that she'd be beautiful. But I wasn't ready for just how gorgeous how hot she was. How beautiful. I knew without a doubt that if I let her near me, day after day, I'd fall deeply completely in love with her. And that would only end in heartbreak for me. She would grow tired of me. Not being able to remember. I must not be good enough for her, what kind of man forgets he's married, forgets his wife. I knew it hurt her. I could see the pain in her eyes. And I couldn't live with myself if I had to watch it over and over every day that I didn't remember her, didn't remember us, how we met, how we fell in love, making love to her. 

Since I woke up and saw her for the first time and ordered her out, I've not been able to get her out of my head.  She stayed away, but my mom hounded me relentlessly telling me how much I loved her. I couldn't talk to my mom, tell her that I had to do this. To save myself pain. I've never had my heart broken over a girl, and this girl would rip my heart out, and leave me broken if I gave in. I couldn't give in. And I couldn't bear to see her hurt every day.