Remember Me

9. Someday

I've lost count of how many times I've watched my wife decline phone calls from her mother. Normally, I'd feel bad and insist that she let bygones be bygones but I can't bring myself to do it this time; to suggest that our accident was somehow fated in the stars to wake Maya up and urge her into leaving me. I couldn't forgive the woman for that. At least not now.

Maya yawns beside me and a soft smile tugs at my lips.

After we'd returned home from our disastrous lunch we'd ordered in and sat ourselves in front of the television. I turned on Netflix, let her pick the show and the two of us settled onto the couch for the rest of the afternoon. Neither of us had even realized it had gotten dark outside until she reached forward to assure Netflix we were still watching.

That was hours ago now.

"Tired?" I ask curiously, turning my attention away from our show and putting it onto her. She shakes her head despite the small yawn that tumbles from her lips when she does so. I chuckle. "You can go to bed."

"I know but I don't want to." She sighs, reaching for the remote and pausing the show. Her eyes stay glued to the small device in her hand for a moment and I stare at her curiously, not at all expecting the words that leave her mouth next. "I'm sorry." I furrow my eyebrows at her in confusion. What did she have to be sorry for? She elaborates, "I shouldn't have agreed to meet my mom today, not after the way she treated you in the hospital." I reach for the remote, taking it from her hand and instead wrapping my hand around hers.

"You don't have to apologize for wanting to see your mom."

"I know but-." She pauses, pursing her lips. "If I'd been fully myself, would I have gone?" She asks, turning her head so her sad, blue eyes meet mine. I hate that the question suggests that the woman in front of me is somehow not herself, like she thinks she can never truly be whole again without her memories while in fact, she was just a different version of herself. And I loved her still, more than ever.

"Maya." I squeeze her hand. "Memories or not, you're still you. You're still the woman I choose to be with every single day, over and over again."

She smiles but her lips don't quite meet her eyes like they do when the smile is real and happy. "You didn't answer my question."

I sigh, scooting just a tad closer to her. Despite our kiss today, I don't want to move too fast. I'd give her the space and she could close it at her own pace. "Had the accident not happened, your mother certainly wouldn't be as bold as she's become. She always disliked me passively but now with what's happened she's decided to make her feelings well-known. So, I can't answer your question because the reality is that circumstances have changed. But I'm not upset, not even a little bit. So please, don't feel like you ever have to apologize for giving your family a chance to change."

The smile on her face widens then, into the one I know and love, despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. "You really can't be real, can you?"

I chuckle, chancing to reach up and collect the tears from her cheeks. "I'm real. I promise."

Her eyes gaze into mine as my hand touches her cheek and for a moment it's like we're back in the parking lot, the air charged between us with tension. There's a collective pause between us where we stare with bated breath until finally she leans forward once more and presses her lips to mine.

Unlike this afternoon though, I'm prepared for the kiss. I immediately slip my hand behind her neck to pull her closer and the hands we had intertwined break apart, mine moving to the small of her back and hers reaching up to link around my neck.

I scoot her closer, urging her mouth open with my tongue and when she gives in, allowing me to deepen the kiss it's like a billion fireworks setting off all at once inside my head. She moans, pulling at my hair and the noise stirs something inside of me. A feeling that's been dormant for a month and I know that as much as I don't want to stop, that we need to stop.