Matt

If I’ve learned one thing, it’s to always knock before entering Nick’s office. If Katie is here, they are probably humping like bunnies on the couch. We had an awkward moment once and I do not want to relive it.

I knock on his door extra hard, hoping he’s there—fully clothed—and not downstairs. I need to talk to him.

“Come in.”

I walk in. He is alone and fully dressed, thank God, and typing something on his computer.

“What’s up?” he says without looking up.

“April is in my office.”

“Here? Oh, good. She could use a change of scenery.”

“I was hoping this would help her remember.”

“Okay.” He gives me a quizzical look. “Why do you look like you want to kill someone?”

“It hasn’t. But it has helped me remember, though.”

“Not following, brother.”

“What’s there to follow? She’s a lying, deceitful bitch, Nick. She doesn’t even like martinis. Goddamn it, maybe she doesn’t even like olives. Olives, man! What the fuck!” I snarl, slamming my palms on his desk, causing his cup full of pens to tip over.

“Okay…well, I didn’t know that olives were a deal breaker for you. Odd kink. I’m trying really hard not to judge here, Matt, but you’re going to have to give me more.” He points to the pens on the floor. “While you pick those up.”

I bend down and shove all the pens back into the cup and slam it onto the desk. “Do you know how many dirty martinis I bought her? She said that was her favorite drink. It’s not. Just gave her one, and she gagged. She could not physically bring herself to have a second sip. The lies were deep, man. Fucking deep. How do I move on from that? She’s living in my fucking house. She asked me why I’m always a dick around her. We’re sleeping together every night.”

“You’re sleeping together?”

“Yeah, but as in actually just sleeping. She gets nightmares, and one thing led to another, and…” I wave my hand, dismissing the subject. It sounds crazy even to my own ears. “Whatever. That’s not the point.”

“I think it is the point. You can’t dislike her that much if she’s sleeping in your bed. Why don’t you tell her the truth?”

I slouch forward and throw myself down onto his couch. I think of those big blue eyes. She’s a fucking deer in the headlights. That’s all I can think of. A scared blue-eyed deer. If I tell her she’s a lying bitch, I’ll crush her. She’ll believe me, because she has no other recollection of anything, and then she’ll leave and be all alone. “Dean told me he’d kill me if I hurt her. She knows we dated and that she left me. But that’s about it.”

“Funny, you never cared about threats before. You sure you’re being a decent guy because of Dean? Could it be because you still have feelings for this girl?”

I snort. “She lied to me, stepped on my heart, and disappeared.”

“Yet she’s living with you and you’re sleeping together.”

“Fuck you very much. I see what you’re doing.”

Nick leans forward. When he gets all serious, I swear I’m looking at myself in the mirror. A hairy version of myself.

“Look, you can’t tell her anything. Not yet. It’s not right. I agree that she fucked you over. Hell, she fucked us all over. I should hate her too. But, for some reason, I don’t.”

“That’s because your head’s in all the pussy you’re getting. You’re not focused on what’s important.”

“No, brother, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m focused on my woman. That’s what’s important. Not hate. Hate consumes you. It’s not doing anything to make you feel better.” Nick sits back. “Once she starts to remember and is all healed and you want to unload, go ahead. But meanwhile, suck it up, buttercup, ’cause you’re stuck.”

“I hate you sometimes.”

“Love you too.” He swivels his chair around and throws a bottle of olives at me that I barely catch. “Just in case you want revenge…hide olives in her food.”

I laugh, leaving the olives on his desk, and head back to my office.

When I walk in, she is standing by the window looking out, and this time it’s me who has a case of déjà vu. Except this woman isn’t the confident raven-haired beauty I loved; this is the broken blonde. Her shoulders are slumped forward and her arms are wrapped around her body as if she’s holding herself together. I can see her shoulders shaking. When my door closes, she stands up straighter, and even though her back is to me, I can tell she’s wiping away tears. I never saw April cry. Not once. Not even when we stayed up late watching some tearjerker chick flick she wanted to watch and I almost cried.

“Rum and coke,” I blurt out, and she turns around. Her eyes are puffy. “Let’s try rum and coke.” I walk to my bar and mix a drink. “Vodka tonic is next.”

When I’m done, I hand it to her but she doesn’t move. “Try it. See if you like it. Let’s try to remember what it is that you like, okay? Let’s start over. I’m going to try to loosen up. Just give me some slack. I’m sorry about what just happened.”

“What just happened, Matt?”

“Nothing. I was being a dick,” I say, nudging the drink to her lips. “Yeah? Good?”

“Not bad, but too sweet,” she says in that raspy voice, which is now a little deeper because of the crying.

“Okay, try this.” I hand her the vodka tonic.

She tastes it. “Oh.” Then she takes a second sip. “Better.”

“Okay, so you don’t like too sweet, but not salty either.”

“What are you drinking?” she asks.

“Jack on the rocks.” I hand her my drink.

She takes a sip and smiles. “I like it.”

“Really?” I take it back and add some Coke to it. “Try it now.”

“Oh, this is good.”

“So Jack and Coke. Got it.” We share a taste for the same drink. I wish I’d known that about her. “How about the music? You like this music?”

She cringes, so I know her answer right away. “Well, we’ll try to figure out what you like later, at home.” I shift around to grab another glass when I accidentally spill some of my drink on her.

“Ahhh, you’re getting me all wet.”

I laugh because this is not the first time I heard her say those words. And this time the memory brings a smile to my face.