Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
“Are you saying it’s not.”
“I am! I’m definitely saying that it’s not.”
“So you’re not the reason we don’t have sex?”
“I didn’t say we don’t have it, just that we don’t have it very often and that the reasons are definitely not my fault.”
“So they’re my fault?”
“The truth is Aden, you just don’t like sex.”
“I don’t…”
“You have… issues.”
“Issues!?!?! What the fuck are you talking about?” I roar, there’s no other word for it, I literally roar the question.
“The doctor gave you some medicine, but it hasn’t helped a lot.”
“The doctor gave me…”
“Let’s not worry about it right now. Let’s go get you settled.”
I get out of the car and follow her to the motel. I don’t have a lot of hope things are going to improve. At this point I’m kind of wishing the accident had killed me because apparently I’m a pansy who calls his wife darling. I’m a loser with no job, who lives off his wife, and has a limp dick he takes medicine to shtup his wife once in a blue moon.
Fuck, no wonder I forgot my life. I want to forget it now.
twenty-four
hope
There’s a slight—huge—chance that Daria was right and I didn’t think this through. Not to mention the fact that Aden is following so close behind me as we walk through the front door of the motel, I feel like I’m sitting on a case of dynamite. In truth, that’s a good analogy because this could all blow up in my face anytime.
As he steps in, I reach behind him and close the front door. He looks around for several minutes, not saying anything. He looks as if he is searching for something and I guess he is. My heart speeds up. The hospital was new to him… what if being here…
“Anything look familiar?” I ask, and I wonder if he can hear the panic in my voice. Didn’t the doctor tell me that once Aden was back in familiar surroundings his memory could come back. I didn’t understand all the technical terms concerning his amnesia, but that I remembered easily—probably because it terrified me.
“Not even a little bit,” he sighs. I feel guilty at the disappointment that is etched on his face.
“I’m sorry, Aden,” I whisper, touching his bicep gently.
“I would have thought you hated me,” he responds, and there goes those warning bells again.
“Why, what do you rem—what makes you say that?” I ask, catching myself from opening up a whole can of worms.
“Hope, I forgot you. My wife. I can’t remember anything about our time together. You have to be hurt or upset…something.”
“Oh. Uh… well I mean it’s not like you can help it, Aden. I mean, people do things all the time that hurt others and they don’t do it because they want to punish someone, or because they dislike them, or even because they’re mad at them. You know.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he answers, looking confused.
“Like, a person can be entirely innocent, and it’s just circumstances, or life, that causes the whole problem. Don’t you agree?”
“I must still be having issues with my head, Hope, because I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”
“Oh. I was just saying sometimes things happen and you can’t control them and it doesn’t make people bad or evil. They certainly shouldn’t go to jail or lose their lives because of it. Right?”
“Uh…right. Maybe you should lay down. I think my accident has taken a lot out of you.”
“Oh… no that’s okay. My friend Daria is bringing Jack back soon. I was about to make dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Starved, hospital food really sucks. Do I know these people that are coming by?”
We’re walking to the small kitchen and I stop walking all at once at his question. I stop so suddenly he bumps into me from behind, sending me stumbling a couple of steps before I can finally right myself.
“Oh,” I gasp, holding onto the wall to keep from ending up on the floor.
“Damn, Hope. Are you okay? I’m sorry. You stopped so suddenly.”
“I…yeah I’m fine. It’s just… well I thought of something I need to tell you about.”
“What’s that? Is it bad?” he asks, probably because of the look on my face.
I’m feeling sick to my stomach. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that he was going to meet Jack and have questions. I’m guessing because I’m stupid and I suck at lying.
Ironic since I’m caught in the biggest web of lies in the history of lying!
“Sit down at the table and I’ll make us some food and we’ll talk,” I tell him, glancing at the clock. I should have plenty of time to talk to him before Daria shows up. Now if I just knew what in the world I’m going to say to him.
“You’re making me nervous, Hope.”
“There’s no need,” I lie. He doesn’t answer. What he does do is take a deep breath that sounds ragged and stressed.