Matt

I’m jogging down the boardwalk toward Lincoln Road for my coffee fix when I hear my name being called. The anger I feel hasn’t subsided, but running helps.

Along the boardwalk there are wooden alcoves with small roofs and benches. At night homeless people use the alcoves to sleep. During the day, they’re full of people drying up after a swim at the beach. But this early in the morning, after the cops have cleared out the homeless and before the beach is swarming with visitors, these alcoves are normally empty. Therefore I’m surprised when a tall man—taller than me and I’m six-one—calls my name again as he stands up. He’s not only tall, he’s also jacked. “Yeah?” I say, looking over my shoulder and slowing to a stop. He looks familiar but I can’t figure out how.

He points to the bench where he was sitting a moment ago. “Need a word with you, Matt.”

“Who are you? Don’t know you, man.”

“My name’s Dean Scott. I work with White.”

“Who?”

“April.”

“Oh, you work with June.”

“April,” he corrects me.

I vaguely remember seeing him talking to June the first night at the club. “Yeah, whatever. April. I’m in the middle of a run,” I say, and begin to jog in place. I don’t want to hear whatever it is he has to say. I’m trying to move on. Sober up. Get my shit together.

“She’s hurt.”

That stops me dead in my tracks. This time I’m prepared to listen.

He sighs and rubs his face roughly with his hand. “One of our snitches was brought up on charges for some other shit he did, and was facing trial. He was out on bond and in his fucked-up head he decided it was April’s fault, even though she did what she promised and his charges on our case were dropped. He caught up to her two weeks ago and beat her with a bat.”

“What?” The blood drains from my body, and I have to hold on to the boardwalk’s wooden railing to keep me upright. I may be angry, but I don’t wish her harm. Not at all.

“She’s in a bad way. She’s at Mount Sinai, intensive care. Can’t remember anything.”

“Jesus.” I exhale loudly. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Don’t know. Survived two surgeries and a medically induced coma, but she’s having issues with her memory. Look, she wouldn’t like it if she knew I was here. But I think maybe if she saw you…I don’t know, she loves you. Maybe that will help with the memories. You had feelings for her once.”

“Fuck.” I shake my head.

“I spent almost two years undercover with her, pretending she was my girlfriend. That shit will make you bond.” A spike of jealousy rises inside of me hearing him say that, and evidently he sees it, because he gives me a thin smile. “Relax. Nothing happened. I’m with someone. And April loves you.” His voice wavers. “She’s got no one, man. You know this.”

“Was that even the truth?”

“She didn’t lie about that. She has no one, and I’ll be starting a new job on the West Coast in a few days. If you don’t go, she’ll be alone in a hospital without a single memory, without anyone.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Mount Sinai Medical Center, room 694.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze and walks away, leaving me completely frazzled.

For the next hour, I wander around aimlessly. Would she even want to see me? Do I want to see her? I don’t know what the hell to do. I run the rest of the way to Panic to talk to the only person who’ll understand what I’m going through.

“Matty!” David calls out when I walk in. I didn’t think David and Geo were still in town. “Nicky’s upstairs grabbing something.”

“Thought you went back to France already,” I say, taking a bottle of water from the bar.

“Change of plans. Geo wants to stay longer.”

“How long?”

“Forever long,” David says, which surprises me.

“Really? Wow. Are you really considering it?”

“I think after everything that happened last year, a change of scenery will do her good. And Katie’s great friends with her. So yeah, we’re considering it.”

I can understand that. Katie is the strongest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. Her positive outlook on life, even though life has shit on her over and over, is damn impressive. Being around her makes you feel better. Makes you feel like you’ve got to live.

“There’s a club we’ve been eyeing; I’m trying to convince Nick to go in on it with me. You too, brother.”

“Well, let me know. I’d love to have you stay close.”

“Hey, Matt,” Nick greets me from the end of the hall. “What’s up? You okay?”

Letting out a breath, I shake my head and sit. “No. I don’t think I am,” I confess, and tell my brother and my closest friend about the conversation with Dean.

“Damn,” David hisses.

“So what are you going to do?” Nick asks.

“I don’t know.”

“You want me to tell you what I think? Honestly?” Nick asks, and I nod.

“The girl’s got a shit deal. Big-time. And I feel bad for her, I really do, being all alone in a hospital. But you’re not doing her, or yourself, any favors going over there and being her knight in shining armor when you don’t care about the chick.”

“I do care about her,” I protest, almost defensively.

David clears his throat. “I’m going to say something that’s going to make me sound like the biggest pussy ever, but after what I’ve been through…Geo could fuck half of Paris, lie to me, lose an eye, whatever—she could do anything, and still I could never think of another woman.” He gives us a half smile. “Don’t tell her that, though.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not,” Nick argues. “I know what he means. I just can’t imagine being with any woman other than Katherine. It’s true. I can’t think of a single thing she could do that would make me start sticking my dick into any wet hole.”

“I haven’t been sticking my dick—”

They laugh as if I’m telling a joke.

“There’s been no one since April,” I explain.

They laugh again. “Yeah, right. Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Matty?” Nick says.

“I haven’t.” Now I’m getting pissed.

“I saw you leave with that bartender a few weeks ago.”

“She was drunk and I took her home. Nothing happened.”

“And the hostess, and the—”

“No one!” I repeat angrily. “I wouldn’t lie about this. What would be the point of lying to you two?”

“Well…” David says, sounding surprised.

No one speaks for some time. At last Nick asks, “So you’re saying you haven’t gotten any for over a year?”

I roll my eyes.

Nick sighs. “Okay, so never mind what I just said a minute ago. I didn’t realize you were still in love with her.”

“I’m not in love with her. I’m pissed. I told her I hated her.”

“You aren’t pissed,” David says reasonably. “If you were pissed, you’d have fucked your way up and down Ocean Drive. I mean, you are pissed, but more than that, you’re heartbroken.”

“Aw, how cute,” Nick teases. “My brother’s heartbroken.”

“Fuck you very much,” I snap.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here talking to us. Go be with your woman,” David continues. “Don’t you know the saying? There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

“I’m still mad. She fucked up my life.” I turn to Nick. “Our life. You should hate her too.”

“She lied to you, that’s true. But she didn’t fuck up your life. Dad fucked up.” He pauses for a second. “And you said some pretty nasty things to her. Let it go, and fix things with her.”

As I’m about to respond, Katie and Geo come in. Geo is looking better and better with each passing day; her hair has grown back where it was partially shaved. After they say hello to all of us, David pulls Geo toward him by the waist and buries his face in her neck. “One moment we’re getting married, the next I thought she was dead. Life changes in a blink of an eye, Matt. You don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow. Don’t let your anger or your pride get in the way of happiness. Trust me, it’s not worth it. That bat could’ve done more than screw up her memory. ‘I hate you’ could’ve been the last words you ever said to her.”

He’s right. I need to go see April.

The hallway is pastel green. I try not to focus on the smell of disinfectant and the beeps of the machines. I admit, I’m a nervous wreck. I wish I was a better man, able to shake off the anger that still poisons me. But I can’t forget that for nearly five months of my life, I was living a lie, a delusion. Betrayal is a heartless bitch.

I want to understand. I want to move on—with or without her. But the thought of the lies sets off a rage inside me that consumes every neuron in my body. Which means I can’t move on. I can’t forget it. I can’t forgive her. I’m just treading water, not moving forward, just stuck in place.

I have so many questions. So many emotions. How could I have been so stupid? Was everything she said a lie? I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore, yet here I am, about to visit her. In my thirty-four years, the only time I was in love was with June—fuck, April—and the thought of her hurt…well, it hurts me. I don’t want her to be hurt. And that alone makes me angry. I should want her to hurt. I should want her to feel the pain I feel. But I don’t. Not at all. And that makes it harder for me to hold on to my rage.

Two armed men are standing in front of room 694. My brow furrows and the hairs on my arms stand up; she must be in more trouble than I thought. “I’m here to see Ju—April,” I say to one of the police officers.

“Name?”

“Mateo Moreno. Or maybe you have me under Matt.”

He pulls a clipboard out and scans the names. He points to something and shows the other man, who then nods. Thinking I have the okay to go in, I take a step forward, but the one on the right extends his arm, blocking the door. “Gotta pat you down, and we’re gonna need some ID.”

“Uh…yeah, sure.” First I hand him my license, and then, unsure what to do, I lift my arms up and the other man pats my legs and my torso. “Okay, go ahead,” he says after he’s done. The other guard hands me back my license.

I take a deep breath and apprehensively open the door.

Machines and tubes are everywhere; there’s a constant beeping. I walk closer and see a blond woman with her eyes closed, a yellowing bruise on her left cheek, the skin around her left eye so swollen I wonder if she can even open it, and a cut along her upper lip. She’s unrecognizable. My heart tightens like a vise and I have to swallow in order to hold back a sob.

I open and close my fists in order to control myself, because this was not the reaction I expected. I’m supposed to be mad. I’m supposed to hate her. Yet I wish I could take this all away from her. The woman I knew and loved was strong. She was tough. The woman in front of me looks absolutely broken.

I don’t know whether to sit or stand. Whether to try to speak to her or let her sleep. I’ve never felt so lost. I’m pacing around the room, unable to get all my emotions in order, when someone walks in.

“Glad you came.” It’s Dean with a brown bag. He sits down in a chair in the corner, takes out a sandwich, and starts to eat as if this is all the most normal thing in the world. “Living off sandwiches from the hospital cafeteria sucks,” he mumbles between bites.

I nod, then glance back at April. “She looks bad.”

“Yeah, she does. But better today than when she first came in a couple of weeks ago. We weren’t sure if she’d make it.”

“And she’s going to be okay?”

“Hope so. Doc said that the worst of it will probably be dealing with the memory loss, but chances are it’s only temporary. She’s starting to remember a few things, like her name and where she grew up. She remembers everything up until a few years ago. She’s in and out of consciousness, and they keep her doped up for the pain. Her arm’s broken, as you can see. Sonofabitch pussy hit her with a bat while her back was turned,” Dean growls, looking like he could kill someone right now. “Maybe it’s good she doesn’t remember it. Evidence shows our girl put up a good fight, though.”

The our girl doesn’t sit well with me, but I ignore it. “That’s horrible. Where’s the guy now?”

“In prison. Won’t be seeing the sun ever again.”

“How can something like this even happen?”

“He was pissed and stupid. Needed to blame someone.” Dean tips his chin toward the bed. “And now he’ll die in jail paying for that.”

“Shit.”

“Yep.” He tosses the bag away and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I leave tomorrow and might be really busy for the next week. I’ll text you my number but I may not be able to call you back right away. I’ll also text you my girlfriend Lori’s info. She’ll try to help, but she’s in California, so that may not work too well, either.”

“What do I do with her?”

“Your call. But I hope you make the right decision. She doesn’t deserve to be left all alone. She’s a good woman, been through hell.”

“Okay,” I say, because what else can I say? I don’t know what to do here. I’m way out of my depth.

“You can’t upset her, man,” Dean warns.

“This is such a fucking mess.” I grip the back of my neck. “I’m fucking pissed off and now I have to help the person who fucked up my life. Tell me why I should do this.”

Dean looks at me but doesn’t say a word, and it’s because I know the answer to this. Staying is the right thing to do. The human thing to do. To top it off, I have to pretend I’m not mad at her. Because I can’t upset her. How the hell am I going to manage that?

“If I didn’t have to go, I’d stay. I wouldn’t leave you with this. But I also know that even if I was here, she’d need you. She’ll be glad you came. When she remembers, that is.”

I’m not so sure about that. I said some pretty mean things to her. Not to mention I’m still angry and hurt. Things are in no way mended. But seeing her broken this way…I can’t leave.

“Wait—look, she’s moving,” I whisper to Dean just as he’s about to leave.

He walks over to the bed. “She does that sometimes.” He takes her hand and squeezes it. “April? April, honey, you awake?”

She turns her head, her eyes still closed.

“Honey, why don’t you try to wake up, drink some water? You have a visitor.”

She moans softly and moves her head side to side as if she’s battling something deep within. Finally she slowly opens her eyes, blinking a few times, before they settle on Dean.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.” He smiles at her and pushes away some of the hair from her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great. Head hurts.”

“I know. Remember Dr. Parker said that you would be experiencing some pain for a few weeks,” he reassures her, and she nods slightly. “You remembering anything? My megawatt smile? The name of your cat?”

She laughs weakly. “You said I didn’t have pets.”

“Good girl. Guess you remember what I said. Hey, I want you to meet someone. His name is Matt.”

She turns her head slowly to me, and I move forward. Her eyes—God, her eyes are so intensely blue. But the way she looks at me, with absolutely no recognition, is like a slap in the face. How the fuck am I supposed to be mad at someone who doesn’t remember who I am, or what she did, or even who she is?

“Remember him, April?”

She squints and looks me over, but there’s not even the slightest inkling of recognition. “I’m sorry. I don’t. Should I?”