CHAPTER 20
KATE
Was it possible for every day to get better and better? I mean, where did it stop? Although perpetual motion was supposed to be a physical improbability, I couldn't help but feel as if my life was the exception to the rule. And of course, it all came down to Liam.
Every day, he surprised me, and every day he made me glad to call him my own. He didn't surprise me with gifts or anything of that nature. He knew that those sorts of materialistic gifts didn't appeal to me, and thus, didn't bother. Instead, he surprised me with his actions.
It was him turning up and surprising me when I thought he was at work, or buying me a book that I had been talking about, or even the free coffee club card he had gotten me for Split Bean. It was the little things that continued to remind me that I had hit the jackpot.
Sometimes, I would wonder what my life was like before I had gotten amnesia, and then I would stop myself. I was actually worried that I might remember. Isn't that funny? I was scared that I might wake up one day, remember my old life, and then realize that this one I was living was all a dream. There was no way it could have been better than now, so why try and prove the fact?
Instead, I lived in the moment. When Liam was around, I showered him with my love, and he ate it up by the bucket load. And when he wasn't around, I did what he told me, and that was to sit down and write.
That day that we spent together, after our fight, he told me about the ten thousand hour theory. He said that he couldn't consider himself a good doctor until he had spent ten thousand hours on the job. Even now, he hadn't reached that mark. That was how long it took to master something. As crazy at it sounded, it also made perfect sense. But it also made me realize that I was dangerously behind my ten thousand hour mark. I endeavored to catch up as quickly as I could, and that meant putting the work in.
My life had reached a nice little routine that I was really starting to become a fan of. Every day, I would wake up and go for a brisk walk through the park. It wasn't done as a means of exercise so much as it was a means to clear my head and get my creative juices flowing.
After the walk, I liked to head to Split Bean for my coffee. Sometimes, I would have it to go, and others, I would sit in and watch the morning crowd. On this particular morning, I had chosen to take my coffee on the go. I wasn't in a rush, but I was in the mood to write, and I always found that when I was in that mood, I needed to take advantage.
So, with my coffee in hand, I hurried across the park to my apartment so I could enact the second part of my daily routine–to write. I was unemployed at the moment, but even still, I was doing okay. It turned out, I had enough in my savings account to cover my expenses for the next few months. Thank you, pre-amnesia me.
So on that front, I was fine. And Liam assured me that anything else I needed he would cover for me. But I hoped that never happened. The way I saw it, I had two months to find my voice and write something spectacular.
When I entered my apartment, I was surprised to find that the window to the fire escape was open. I didn't think I’d ever actually opened that window before. Just because the fire escape isn't exactly a romantic balcony, and the wind can get a bit chilly. No matter though. I crossed the room in a few short strides and closed it. It must have been the wind.
I was about to pull up my laptop and get started when I spotted something on my bed. On closer inspection, it was one of my journals. Usually, that wouldn't bother me, except that I hadn't so much as thought about my journals in weeks. I definitely didn't get them out of the drawer.
Picking it up, I flipped it over, as if half expecting it to tell me what it was doing on my bed. The only conclusion I could come up with was that I had thrown it there when getting something from the bottom of my dresser. Although what it was, I couldn't recall.
I sighed, giving my head a shake. Being a writer meant a lot of isolation, and perhaps that was getting to me. Sure, I saw Liam almost every day, but that was always at night. I spent a big chunk of the day alone, and clearly, it was starting to take its toll.
It was curiosity more than anything that saw me sit down and open the journal. A part of me didn't want to read it. I had no desire to open up paths into the past. I was happy in the present. But despite this, I opened and read nonetheless. It wasn't any passage in particular. Just the first that my fingers found.
He didn't even bother calling this time. Usually, he calls. Usually, he makes the effort to at least let me know that he won't be home. But lately, he's been getting worse and worse. I don't want to be that naggy, cliché girlfriend that you always read about. I've seen the movies and know where that leads to. But still, I would like just a little warning.
I told him that I was going to be making his favorite dinner tonight. Nothing fancy, spaghetti and meatballs–but with the meatballs cooked in coconut oil, just the way he likes them. I told him that, especially so that this wouldn't happen. But an hour later and he hadn't turned up. Two hours later, I called Clint to see if he was with him, and of course, he was.
"Just blowing off some steam, Kate. Just blowing off some steam?" What does that even mean? I understand that his job is tough and takes it out of him. But why doesn't he want to blow off steam with me? What's wrong with me. Okay, there I go, being that whining girlfriend again.
I've been telling myself a lot lately that it’s only a phase. And then he tells me how one day he'll open up his own practice, and we won't have to worry about the hospital anymore. And when he tells me that, I let out a sigh of relief because I want to believe it. I want to believe that he is telling me the truth. But now, I just don't know.
I'm going to give him another chance. One more. If he does this again, I'm going to have to sit him down and tell him that I'm not happy. I'm sure that if I do that, he will be perfectly–actually, I bet it won't even get that far. I bet that this won't happen again.
Seriously Liam! Why do you make me act this way! I hate how you do it to me! I also hate how much I love you.
Kate out
I re-read the passage again, feeling an odd sense of confusion. That passage was one of the last ones in the book, and by the looks of it, was written shortly before I stopped writing journal entries. Evidently, Liam didn't change, and evidently, we broke up because of it. But that wasn't what had me concerned.
The mention of Clint was the first thing that sent a wave of panic down my spine. What were the odds of that Liam knowing another Clint? I had only met his friend Clint once before, but he seemed nice enough, and there was no indication of him knowing me. At least, he didn't act that way.
And if that was the only thing, I would have been fine. I'm sure there are a dozen Clint's in the city working as doctors. But it was Liam's favorite meal that got me. Spaghetti and meat balls, where the meat balls were cooked in coconut oil. I knew that Liam loved spaghetti and meat balls. He had told me on several occasions. But he was yet to mention whether or not he liked them cooked a different way.
Okay, I had to stop myself there. There was no way that what I was thinking was possible? It was all just one big coincidence. It was a very spooky coincidence, but one none the less. Even if the parallels were clear, there was one glaring difference that I could not overlook, and that was that my Liam, the one that I loved, never put the hospital first. He always called me when he was going to be late and had yet to ditch me to blow off steam.
I stood up from the bed, shaking my head again. I was just being stupid. The only other possibility was that Liam was using my amnesia to get close to me again. It sounded ridiculous, and I even forced a laugh out of myself as I threw my journal back in the bottom drawer of my dresser.
Then, with somewhat of a clear head, I grabbed my laptop and opened it up, preparing to do some work.
As I worked, I did all I could to push thoughts of Liam and some devilish scheme to trick me into dating him again, out of my head. But, even so, I made a subconscious note to double check with Liam how he liked his meatballs cooked. Just in case.