Only when guests other than Billie arrive do I become aware of how much a pig-sty my place is. It represents my mental state— With clothing, art supplies, and various other miscellaneous items of a young woman strewn across the squeaky floorboards. I ask Landon to wait outside a minute while I do a quick walk through, kicking things out of the way.

But first, I make damn sure to hide a photograph of the both of us taken back in our junior year of high school that usually lies in my bedside drawer. I give myself a minute to trace a finger over a much younger, brighter us on the bleachers at a school rally. Landon is clean shaven, his hair is short and he’s smiling so wide his cheeks dimple. I’m wrapped tightly in his arms, with my dyed-black hair, scene makeup and lip piercing that’s creased into my duck-face pout. Tears clot my throat and I cough them back down. For now, I stash the sun-bleached photo into the vegetable drawer of my refrigerator under some wilting lettuce, assuming that’s a place Landon won’t peruse.

I carry on, opening my curtains and letting in some light. Why am I so embarrassed by my state of living? This is Landon. My Landon. He doesn’t need this place to be spotless… but I still feel an obligation to present myself well.

I peek at him through the window beside the front door. He exhales, holding his forehead in his hand. I can almost feel him thinking… Remembering… If I could just keep him here long enough, maybe he would remember me.

But do I really want that?

Nothing makes sense since he crashed into my life. His presence has shaken up the snow globe of my boring existence, unsettling the particles of my new life. I’m taking a big risk letting him stay here. For the first time since moving to Baddock, I have no control over my situation and my hands haven’t stopped sweating since his arrival.

The bathroom door opens. Babeen shows his flat, chubby face.

“What are you doing in there, silly kitty?”

I walk to close the door again then realize I haven’t taken my medicine today. Babeen revs a loud purr. “Yeah, yeah. I’m taking them.” I quickly fill up my palm with my prescriptions and move back to the main room. But when I walk in there with my palm cupped to my mouth, Landon is in my living room. The pills clog in my throat. I gag unbecomingly. It doesn’t help that he’s standing there watching me with an amused smirk. I wretch some more.

“Shit, are you okay?” He realizes I’m actually choking and runs to my aid. I can’t answer as the pills spill out of my mouth with a clatter into my kitchen sink. Bitter remnants tinge in my throat. I don’t want him to see me like this but it’s too late now.

“You trying to kill yourself?”

“I told you to wait outside.”

“It started raining. You want me to get you some water?”

“No, go away. Don’t look at me like this. Go make yourself at home. Feel free to kick the cat off the sofa.”

I remain hunched over the sink, keeping an eye on Landon as he approaches sleepy Babeen.

“Hey, little man. You’re a cute lump aren’t ya?” He scratches Babeen behind his ear causing his shiny head to press further into Landon’s palm.

“I’ll be right back,” I say.

In the bathroom, I make my second attempt at swallowing some new pills. They go down successfully and I relax a little knowing their effects will kick in soon. They soften my paranoia and anxiety to a point of welcomed numbness I’ve missed since yesterday.

“Everything okay in there?” Landon knocks on the door.

“Yeah.”

But is it? What am I supposed to do now? My soulmate’s sitting out there on my sofa right now and he doesn’t even know it. What options do I have? I can’t leave with Landon back to Jethrow. That cesspit of crime and deadbeats. If he was still connected to Jethrow that meant he was still connected with his MC.

And Mac… The MC President…

Not only would I never step foot back in that place but anytime I think about leaving Baddock, I freak out. This is my safe zone. I don’t leave. I could Misery him, maybe? Lock him to my bed until he remembers how much he loves me…

“What are you doing, you idiot?” I hiss to myself in the mirror. “Quit remembering what was. He has somebody else.”

My fingers pull at the flaked mascara that has smudged around my eyes. There’s a part of me that wants to cry when I analyze how I look; Cry or scream. I want a release. “Maybe when he remembers, he’d leave her for you…But we can’t be together again, we promised…Lucy! Dammit! You are nothing to him anymore.”

I punch the mirror. It shatters into a cobweb-shaped crack. “Fuck!” I shout and shake my hand out. Luckily, there’s no blood.

“Lucy?!” Landon yells.

“I’m fine! Put the TV on or something!”

Warm, stinging tears stream instantly down my cheeks. I’ve successfully bullied myself into submission yet again, keeping myself from ascending from this purgatory. I’m not allowed hope or happiness. I made that choice a long time ago.

“You can’t leave with him,” I keep whispering. “He doesn’t want you to go with him. He has a new life and you’re not part of it. The club won’t remember you. Jethrow doesn’t want you and you don’t want it. You don’t want to go back there, remember?” My psychotic babble continues as I run a bath to disguise my audible sobs. “You live with this pain…You chose this…You live with it…He’s not yours to have anymore…Just toughen up and let him go.”