I feel quite warm, comfortable even. It has been some time since I slept well. I snuggled in closer to the warmth. Wait a minute, I opened one eye then frowned. I don't recall having a muscled wall built around me so why am I in the embrace of a sleeping giant. When the events of last evening unfolded within me I blushed red with mortification. "That was something he need not have witnessed," I cringed inwardly. He must have thought I was like a child crying out for her mother. I hope he never wakes so I will not have to deal with his judgement.
While remaining within the confines of his arms, he stirred against me. The man was really built like hulk for he completely dwarfed me. "Maybe I should get into what he is doing," I chuckled then dismissed the idea. I felt his hand tighten on my waist alerting me that he was awake. His gaze collided with mine making me turn colours again. "How are you this morning?" he carefully inquired. "I'm well, thanks," came my shy reply. I'm not usually shy however, given that I know nothing of this guy yet he is in bed with me plus that he saw me in quite a vulnerable position last night it's a given. I should probably get up, make coffee or something but my body is trying to rebel keeping me here with him. This is highly inappropriate ; I don't seem to mind. Then Leo's image appears in my mind's eye, the one where he is smiling. This time I don't linger in the warmth.
I watched him come into the kitchen all unkempt yet quite attractive. I ignored that unwanted feeling sipping my morning coffee. The clothes he wore were tight further emphasizing his large physique. This setting is too intimate for someone who you barely know. Although this thought did not even cross his mind for he has made himself quite comfortable here.
"My friend will be here soon," he spoke, " he is going to pick me up." I nodded my understanding relieved he will be leaving soon. "I would like to come back again. Without the injuries of course," he said enthusiastically. How does one respond to that? Do I want him to? I chose to reject his enthusiasm with a question. "Speaking of injuries. How do you feel?" "I'm fine. I don't have much in the way of wounds. I'm used to worse," he expressed. I believe him. He does not seem bothered at all, even though there are bruises on his face and sides. 'I'm used to worse' he said, that makes one think this is normal for him to bear that much pain without even a wince. How do I respond to that? I don't know but I replied with, "Good."
A knock on the door echoed through the space so I moved to answer before Sam shot out his arm to bar me. He stepped up to the door opening it to another equally built man. They exchanged few words and Sam disappeared with a bag into the bathroom. I watched this guy, built like a house, standing near my door frame. This must be the friend Sam spoke of that will pick him up. The man didn't even look my way, like my presence means nothing. That irked me because this is my house and he is being disrespectful. I cleared my throat in attempt to get his attention but even that didn't work. I opened my mouth to speak when Sam came out ruining my chance to do so.
"Hey Amelia I need to speak to you," Sam said in a rough voice. He ushered me away from the door when he began, "I will come back again. Till then take care." He then moved to cup my cheek leaving a light kiss before he left. A sort of a promise that confirmed his words. I got lost in the moment then remembered his question to me not long ago and now he has given himself an answer to that. Me? How I feel about that? Looks like I don't mind. Sigh. How far gone am I for company? It is good that he doesn't know about Leo as well as my guilt.
Sam came back two days later true to his word. This may be odd but we spent the entire week together like it was no big deal. No awkwardness just light conversation and plenty of jokes. He kept me from straying to memories of Leo which added to the benefit of his company. This grew from here between us. He held me every night so that the tears don't come out and even kept the nightmares away. He never spoke of the nights when he found me wailing, no judgement not even curiosity on his part to question what had upset me, this I respected.
I went to the doctors the next morning when Sam left. I force myself to drop by every month to do a check up. The doctor there recommended that I should see a therapist with everything that I went through. He began to explain pros and cons and whys ;all that bullshit about patient care. I just did what I always did, shrugged and promised. Dr Yu usually does my check ups, I prefer him. I was his patient after the accident, he did all the medical stuff doctors do and finally reported that I might have slight amnesia. That my brain may have filtered some information when I complained about everything being in a haze.
I remember Leo's face perfectly, like my brain took a snap shot of that exact moment I found him he was... Anyway I can't remember anything beyond that or before that. I only recall being with Emma then Leo being dead. Nothing about the ride from Emma's, nothing about the crash not even the ride to the hospital. I guess he might be right because for the life of me I wanted to remember out last moments. Did I tell him about Emma's response? Was he happy his sister accepted us ? What was his response? Did he smile or grin or laugh or cry? Did I smile at him? What did he look like that day all dressed up? I don't.. I don't know. Why can't I remember what he wore without there being blood. God! The blood just spreading, gushing out. I can't do this here. Don't break down. Don't cry. Don't show them the guilt. You know it's your fault. The only way he died was because he came with you to Emma's. You were so selfish. If only... Stupid. It should have been me. I should have..die..died..not Leo. Poor Emma, I'm so sorry.
Sam phoned that night saying he had to leave town for business. I don't know what 'business' involved but I didn't pry. He was evasive, dodging that topic for reasons I can't fathom, despite the fact he willing shares other information about himself. He has a way of disarming me with his charm. I do know he lies to me sometimes here and there thinking he's being clever, I let him think he fools me. Why do I encourage this? I concluded I don't care as long as he keeps the dreams away. Anything as long as I don't see Leo staring at me with a blank look with blood gushing out. On some days even the colour of my hair scares me. Red like blood just spilling over my shoulders, makes me swell with hatred toward it, so I just tie it up at the back of my head out of sight. I don't wish to cut or change it because it's the hair my mother had, the only tangible memory of her I have.