The encounter in the hallway was still fresh in Hunter’s mind as he climbed out of the taxi in front of the music hall. He still couldn’t quite believe how bold Luke had been in offering to cook for him. He claimed they’d just been friends, but Hunter thought he sensed something more. Still, when he’d checked the contacts in his phone there was no mention of “Luke” anywhere.

He was tempted to text his mom and ask her about it, but he didn’t want to stir up anything. Besides, he was never going to prove to this family he could function on his own if he turned to them every time he had a question about something. He was an adult, and he could figure this all out for himself.

Now, however, he had other things to focus on. Like whether or not he was actually meeting someone here at all. In the back of his mind there was the distinct possibility the ticket was actually a fake and someone was pulling a prank on him. He couldn’t imagine anyone who would be that cruel to him, but then again he didn’t remember anyone or anything he might have done to piss them off.

“I figured there was only about a fifty/fifty chance you’d actually show up,” said someone that sounded only vaguely like the voice that had called him. “I’m glad to see you decided to be bold. I guess that blind date line did the trick.”

Hunter turned and found himself face to face with the man he had met as he was leaving the law office. Dashingly handsome with piercing blue eyes.

“So you’re Vincent,” said Hunter, folding his arms. “You could have just said so on the phone.”

“What, and spoil the surprise?” Vincent chuckled to himself. “I doubt you would have come.”

“You never know,” retorted Hunter.

“Why don’t we head inside and find our seats?” suggested Vincent. “The show’s about to start.”

Hunter allowed himself to be led inside the grandiose music hall. He supposed he must have been here before, but right now he felt extremely out of place. Everyone seemed much better dressed and much better off than he was. He could almost feel them judging him as he walked through the lobby beside Vincent.

That feeling only grew worse as the evening wore on. It was enhanced by the fact that Vincent seemed so effortlessly confident. He escorted Hunter to their seats without a second’s hesitation and seemed perfectly content with his companion’s presence.

Hunter found he couldn’t really focus on the musical as it played out before them. Something about people living in Oklahoma, but he wasn’t really following the story.

There must’ve been thousands of people crammed into this room, and it felt like they were all looking at him. He knew, logically, this wasn’t true. Still, Hunter’s heart raced with worry. He felt too warm. His shirt collar was too tight. The chair felt like it was made of stone and he shifted uncomfortably throughout. His nerves were raw, and by the time they paused for intermission he was ready to bolt.

“You don’t look well,” commented Vincent with a frown as he rose from his seat. “I was going to offer to get you a drink, but you look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I’m fine,” insisted Hunter. “I just need some air.” He rose quickly and slipped past Vincent towards the lobby. Once out in the lobby, the feeling only got worse as people crushed towards the bar to get refreshments before the show started again. He clawed his way through the crowd and gratefully threw himself against one of the exterior doors, breaking outside into the refreshingly chill twilight.

He breathed deeply, willing his heartbeat to slow as he looked up at the dimming sky overhead.

A few minutes later, Vincent emerged from the building as well.

“Feeling better?” he asked as he approached Hunter.

“A bit, yeah,” said Hunter, nodding gratefully. “I’m sorry about that. I guess I’m just not used to being around so many people.”

“We should go back in, the show is about to start again,” suggested Vincent, touching Hunter’s elbow.

“I don’t think I can,” said Hunter. “I’m sorry. I just...I’m not ready for that kind of crowd.”

Vincent frowned. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I understand. I don’t want to force you to do something that makes you feel uncomfortable. Since I’d rather not go back without my date, why don’t I take you to dinner instead? Something low-key, not a lot of people?”

Hunter swallowed hard. He didn’t want to take advantage of Vincent’s kindness. After all, he was basically making him waste his theater tickets. Still, the hunger in the pit of his stomach wouldn’t be silenced and the very mention of food was enough to make his mouth water.

“Okay,” agreed Hunter at last. “That sounds nice.”

A thin smile spread across Vincent’s lips as he approached and slid an arm around Hunter’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry,” soothed Vincent in a voice that was thick and sweet like honey. “I’ll take care of you. Everything will be perfect.”

Hunter felt a tinge of disdain and shrugged away Vincent’s arm. “I don’t need to be taken care of,” he snapped. “I am an adult and, despite what happened to me, I’m not an invalid. I don’t need to be coddled. I can take care of myself.” He felt his cheeks flush with anger as he made his way down the steps of the music hall towards the sidewalk.

“Hunter! Hunter wait, please.” Vincent followed after him, begging for his attention.

“I want to go home,” stated Hunter, barely even glancing at Vincent as he flagged down a taxi. “Please, just leave me alone.”

“Hunter, don’t do this. I misspoke. I just...let me make it up to you, okay?” begged Vincent, stepping between Hunter and the curb as the taxi approached.

“No,” insisted Hunter. He was done arguing. He shouldn’t have even bothered coming out for the evening. He should have just stayed home and read like he had planned. “I’m done for tonight. I don’t want to talk to anyone else. I don’t want to do anything else. I’ve had enough with people trying to take care of me. So please, get out of the way and let me go home.”

For a moment it looked like Vincent might try to keep arguing. Hunter silently pleaded with him to just give up. He was tired and growing more so by the minute.

“Fine,” relented Vincent. “I’m sorry it had to end like this.” He stepped out of the way. “I’m sorry my dumb mouth ruined what was supposed to be a perfect evening. I just wanted to cheer you up after everything that’s happened. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”

Hunter tried to tune him out as he opened the taxi door and climbed in. He didn’t want to hear Vincent’s excuses. He didn’t want to give himself the chance to be talked out of his decision to go home.

“Look, Hunter,” said Vincent, putting his hand on the door to prevent it from closing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Yes, I want to take care of you. Of course I do. How could I not? We dated for so long, and I’m not over you. I wanted to give you space after your accident and let you heal. I didn’t want to confront you with a relationship you didn’t even remember. But I wanted to see you again, so that’s why I bought the ticket and left it at your apartment. I thought that if I could just be friends with you then maybe everything would be okay. But I was wrong. I don’t know if I could ever be ‘just friends’ with you. My feelings are still too strong. So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I can’t restrain my desire to protect you. I don’t want you to feel coddled or inhibited by something out of my control. Just please don’t hate me for it.”

Before Hunter could gather his thoughts, Vincent closed the door and walked away from the taxi.

Hunter’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. He hadn’t expected a confession like that. It made sense in a way. He’d never stopped to think about whether or not he was in a relationship before he’d lost his memories. But the kind of person that would leave tickets under his door, and invite him out on a blind date, that had to be someone he had been close to before, right?

“Are we just gonna sit here all night or do you wanna go somewhere?” asked the taxi driver, who seemed somewhat annoyed by the delay. Apparently he wasn’t moved by displays of tragic romance playing out in the backseat of his taxi.

“Yeah, sorry,” mumbled Hunter. He gave the cab driver the address to his apartment and took a deep breath as he leaned back against the seat. As he watched the city blocks pass by his window, he tried to gather his thoughts and emotions.

His desire for independence, to prove himself to everyone who wanted to coddle him, had been all encompassing up till this point. He’d never stopped to consider whether or not he’d had someone taking care of him. Maybe his lack of cooking skill was less because of his injury and more because he’d always had someone cooking for him.

Had he overreacted to what was probably just a simple slip of the tongue? In his desire to prove that he was a capable adult, had he behaved childishly?

Hunter sighed to himself. Things would’ve been much simpler if he’d just stayed home.

It wasn’t long before he was dragging himself off the elevator on the fourth floor of his building. He was tired and still just as hungry as he had been when he had left earlier. That’s what he got for running out on his date.

He stopped short as he approached his apartment. A large cardboard box sat on the floor outside of his door. He eyed it suspiciously for a moment before approaching. It was far too soon for it to be any sort of offering from Vincent, so it must have come from someone else.

There was no note, but it was taped firmly shut. He glanced around for any sign of who it may have come from, but there was no one.

Frowning to himself, Hunter knelt down to pick it up. It was heavy, far too heavy to hold and open the door at the same time. Whatever was inside shifted as it was lifted and various objects clanked together. Rather than risk damaging the contents, Hunter set the box down, opened the door, and slid it across the threshold.

A few minutes later, he had retrieved a knife from the kitchen and was cautiously opening the box. Inside were several Tupperware containers full of food. One had what looked like lasagna, another had salad, there was bread in a third, and Jell-O parfait in another. Tucked in an envelope near the bottom of the box was a small note.

The handwriting was flowery, almost like calligraphy, and it took Hunter a moment to figure out what it actually said.

“Just in case you get hungry before your lesson tomorrow. —406.”

Right, that guy. His neighbor, the one that had offered to teach him how to cook. What was his name again? Leon? Something that started with an L, that much was certain. Either way it wasn’t really important right now.

Hunter eagerly unloaded the box, dug out a clean plate from the dishwasher, and heated up some of the lasagna. The food was absolutely amazing, made even better by the fact he was ravenous by that point.

With his hunger sated, there was nothing else to keep his exhaustion at bay. A few minutes later he collapsed, fully clothed, into bed and fell asleep.

***

MORNING CAME, ACCOMPANIED by the sound of someone knocking urgently at the door to Hunter’s loft. He was still exhausted and groggy despite the fact that he’d slept for roughly twelve hours straight. He debated just lying in bed and ignoring the door until whoever it was gave up and went away. He couldn’t bring himself to go through with it though.

Dragging himself out of bed, Hunter crossed the loft and fumbled with the lock on the front door for a moment. He slowly pulled it open and peered out into the hallway.

“Look, I’m sorry to do this,but I couldn’t just leave things the way they were last night.” Vincent stood in the hallway looking freshly showered and rejuvenated.

Hunter sighed to himself. “Please, Vincent, just give me some time to process all of this. Everything you said last night is a lot to take in. I’m not sure I can give you what you want.”

“Just hear me out?” asked Vincent. “I brought coffee and doughnuts. If you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll leave and you never have to see me again. I swear.”

Hunter tried to blink away some of the exhaustion in his eyes so he could focus a little more clearly on the figure standing before him. Vincent indeed was carrying a tray with two coffees and a bag of doughnuts. While there was still plenty of leftover lasagna in the fridge, the promise of fresh coffee and doughnuts tugged temptingly at his sleep-laden body.

“Fine,” he relented, stepping back from the door and letting Vincent into the apartment.

Vincent made a beeline for the kitchen with a familiarity that startled Hunter a little. He quickly retrieved two plates and carried them to the kitchen table with the rest of his treats.

“Please, have a seat. This won’t take long,” instructed Vincent as he set out the doughnuts on the plates.

Hunter warily approached the table. He didn’t know what to expect and he still hadn’t formulated an opinion on how he felt about the previous relationship he supposedly had with Vincent. He lowered himself into a chair and watched as Vincent took the seat across from him.

“I was wrong to dump all of that on you like that,” said Vincent. He handed Hunter one of the two coffees. “I was frustrated and upset because the evening I planned for you was falling apart. I realize you were uncomfortable, weren’t feeling well, and I just wanted to make you feel better. But because of that I overstepped. I shouldn’t have dumped all of those emotions on your head when I’m still practically a stranger to you.”

Vincent sighed before continuing. “I mean, as far as you’re concerned, the first time we met was outside of the elevators at the law office yesterday. So it wasn’t fair of me to bring up a relationship that means nothing to you. So, I just wanted to bring this as a peace offering. Despite what I said yesterday, I think we can be friends. I’d like to try at least, because I honestly can’t imagine my life without you in it. Even if that means we’re just friends. I don’t care.”

Hunter looked away. It was difficult, trying to deal with someone else’s emotions when you weren’t even sure what your own feelings were. Part of him still wanted to cut ties with everyone and leave. Start over fresh somewhere else where no one expected anything of him.

But that wasn’t an option. Not for someone with no job and no prospects. He had to stay here and because of that these people would remain in his life.

He looked back at the man sitting across from him. The look of sincerity on his face sent daggers through Hunter’s heart.

“You need to understand that the Hunter you loved doesn’t exist anymore,” said Hunter, trying to sound firm but kind. “I’m not him. I may look like him, but I don’t have any of the memories or experiences that made him who he was. You can’t put that expectation on me.”

Vincent said nothing but looked down at his coffee dejectedly.

“You seem like a really great guy,” continued Hunter. “And I get that you were just trying to look out for me. If you’re willing to be patient with me, then I think I’d like to get to know you a little better. I just need you to understand that I’m not the same person anymore.”

“And maybe you can understand I might slip up from time to time, and while I know logically that what you’re saying is true, I still look at you and see the man I loved.” Vincent looked up at him slowly, hope shining in his eyes.

“Then we just take this one step at a time. Okay?” suggested Hunter, reaching across the table and touching Vincent’s hand.

“Yeah, okay,” agreed Vincent with a smile that drew Hunter in.

For a moment he understood how his past self had fallen in love with this man. He wondered if that sort of romance was possible for him now.