THE GIRLFRIEND

THE GIRLFRIEND


Angel's Pov

What? Of all the things I expected him to say. . . His girlfriend? Hank wants to date me?

I stare up at him, the words hitting me like a splash of cold water. My mind splutters, stalled between surprise and something else I can’t quite name.

I don’t know what to say.

But I think I know what I don't want to say. I don't want to refuse him. I mean, wasn’t I just wishing for a boyfriend a few minutes ago? And now, here’s someone qualified standing right in front of me. Handsome. Kind. Patient. Someone who’s been looking out for me without being asked.

And yet… a yes doesn't automatically come out either.

There’s nothing wrong with Hank. Nothing I can point to and say ‘this is why not’.

So why am I hesitating?

Hank’s smile, soft at first, begins to fade around the edges as he studies my face for an answer that's not forthcoming.

I think I know what’s holding me back.

It’s apprehension. Because what if there actually is someone waiting for me somewhere? Someone I’ve forgotten, but that wouldn't make him any less real.

What if I already have a whole life? A husband. Kids. A home I’ve built with memories I just can’t reach right now. Wouldn’t that be cheating? Wouldn't saying yes to Hank be the same as tearing that apart?

And if — when — my memories come back, won’t that blow everything open? When I know who I am again, wouldn't that be shattering a part of me? Won’t it turn something that wasn’t broken into a mess I can’t fix?

My eyes flick away from the intense look in his, needing to think for just a moment, away from the piercing green.

The thing is I might have all that, the beautiful fantasy but right now that's all it is; a fantasy. I don’t know when my memories will come back. It could be weeks, months, years even! They've been slow to return so far, sluggish, almost dragging their feet.

And I need a support system now more than ever. As early as literally yesterday.

Yes Andrew was there when I needed him but Andrew also has a girlfriend. The kind who calls him baby, a pet name I thought he wouldn't like.

He was there for me as a friend but when she comes back in a few days, Anna says Andrew will take her out for the whole day so they can spend time together. As it should be should.

He’s able to be this close to me now because she isn’t here. And when she is. I’ll be pushed to the back burner, relegated down on his list of priorities. Which I understand, she’s his girlfriend. That’s how it works.

Besides, just because I have a hunch that people loved me, doesn't mean that it's true. Who knows, maybe I don't have a husband and kids. . . It's heartbreaking to think about.

And Hank. . . Hank is here now. Hank is offering. And that’s what I need, someone who’s here because they choose to be, not because of the circumstance, not because they were forced into it.

It's one of my fears; that Andrew will see me one day as an unfortunate mistake.

I wish he never hit me with this car.

I look up at Hank again. His eyes are steady on mine, and there’s a flicker of uncertainty there now. But he’s still waiting, hasn't turned away, yanking his proposal back, hurt. He knows I might say no but he's going to see it through to the end. He's still hoping. . . because he really wants me.

“Yes, Hank.” My lips lift into a smile I hope looks more certain than I feel. “I will.”

_
Andrew's Pov.

Is that Hank's car? I wonder idly as I walk into the house. What's he doing here?

There's no one in the living room, the TV isn't even on. I start climbing the stairs. Angel probably went up to her room.

Contrary to what I felt when I first saw the doctor’s car, it's good he's here. He could look her over, I think as I walk to Angel’s room, tell me everything’s fine. He'd be thorough too, he wouldn't rush through—

They don't notice me standing there.

They.

Angel's door is ajar, a song wafting softly out of her room. It's coming from Hank’s phone, on the bed beside them, crooning some soft song about birds or something equally gentle. The lyrics barely register. I don’t care enough to catch them.

Because Hank is kissing Angel.

For a split second, my mind blanks. My first urge is instinctive, protective; to storm in, grab him by the collar, and throw him halfway across the room. What the fuck does he think he’s doing?

But then. . . Angel is kissing him back.

She’s sitting in his lap, one hand curled into his hair, her body pressed tight against him. With a start I realize, it's not a a mistake, not some weird moment he misread. She’s into it too.

But even then, the urge to separate them doesn’t fade, doesn't budge. It sits heavy in my chest.

I stand there for another second, the scene blurring at the edges. But I refuse to delve into why this hits the way it does; why I still feel that this is wrong, why my hands won’t unclench.

Not right now.

I blink, turning mechanically and slink away. My feet carry me down the stairs without any real thought. Everything needs to fucking pause, and let me breathe.

I walk straight to the garage and get in a car. The engine turns on at my whim, the low hum steady under my hands on the wheel. It seems my cars are the only things that make sense right now.

I drive out onto the road without even deciding where I’m going. This always clears my head.

I need it. The image of them isn’t leaving my mind's eye. Angel in his lap. Her hand in his hair. His hands around her back. And that damn song,
it's like I can still hear it, faint in my ears.

I grip the wheel tighter and just. . . drive.