Fortuity

Chapter 25

I left the room.

I couldn't take it.

She doesn't remember me.

She doesn't remember our child.

She doesn't remember anything.

I was gone for three hours, pacing the hospital, and finally, I've gotten the balls to go back, my eyes red and puffy from crying.

I don't enter the room, I just stand in the doorway.

"So what's the exact last thing you remember?" Delaney asks.

"I remember that guy, I forget his name, but he took the house key from our apartment! I went to his house to yell at him. He's...an asshole."

Delaney

I see Tyler standing in the doorway.

"I don't remember anything, Delaney. I have a kid. I'm married. How did that happen? Help me, Del. What's my favorite color? My favorite song? My favorite food?"

"I don't...the only person that know you that well is your husband."

"What's his name?" she whispers.

"Tyler." She says.

She nods.

"The man slut of the school."

"Carmen, you're not twenty years old anymore." Delaney whispers.

"Delaney, I need to know my favorite color."

"You don't have one." Tyler speaks up. "You like pink, but soft pink. You like yellow, but soft yellow. You like every single color, except for brown, but you only like certain shades of brown. You worship aquamarine. You tried to get me to let you paint Emily's room aquamarine, and I was going to let you, but at the last second, you changed your mind and we painted it purple. You hate when people scrape their teeth on your fork. It makes you shudder. You buy jolly ranchers, which is your favorite candy, but you only eat watermelon and strawberry. You give me the entire bag. You're allergic to every fruit except for grapes and strawberries, but you only eat green grapes because you think the red one's are nasty. You favorite song is Breathe my Faith Hill. You don't really have a favorite food. You have a favorite food for every meal. For breakfast, you either like French toast, eggs, or Fruit Loops. You don't like eating bacon with breakfast. You like sausage for breakfast. For lunch, you like making quesadillas and you get mad at me when I take a lot of cheese so you started buying two bags and we run out fast because you use the entire bag every single morning. For dinner, you like chicken cutlets or chicken parmesan."

Silence.

Everyone is dead silent, and she's just staring at me like I'm a crazy stalker.

She gulps.

"Do I still have my after dinner meal?"

I smile.

"Yes. You refuse to call it dessert. You like sweets then. You love chocolate brownies. You don't like when they're bought from the store. You like making them at home and you always put milk chocolate chips in them. If you're not having that, you're having a fresh chocolate chip cookie, or some type of chocolate cake."

She hesitates.

"How do I sleep?" she asks.

"What?" I ask.

"How do I sleep? Assuming we sleep in the same bed, since we're married."

I sigh.

"You sleep on your side when I'm with you because we love cuddling, and when I'm not there, you sleep on your stomach. When you were pregnant, you slept on your left side."