Chapter Seven
F elix
Felix stood rooted to the spot just outside Autumn’s room as he listened to her sob quietly.
It felt like he was being torn in two pieces.
Part of him wanted to charge back in there, gather her in his arms, and assure her that everything would be okay, but the other part of him wanted to run as far away from the apartment as he could.
Comforting his best friend whenever she was down was something he did as automatically as breathing, but she had no idea who he really was anymore.
Felix’s heart broke a little more each time he thought about it, something he’d managed to do just about every second since he walked into that hospital room.
Every memory she had of him, of their friendship, had been wiped from her mind as easily as he mopped up spills from the bar top.
It was so unfair, and as horribly selfish as it felt to be thinking of himself at a time like this, Felix couldn’t help it.
What if she never got those memories back?
Just when they were going to take things to the next level, they were back at square one.
When the two parts of himself that had been warring with each other finally calmed down, Felix brushed his hand lightly against the wood of her door before stepping quietly over toward the kitchen.
If he couldn’t comfort her with words or with the strength of his arms as they cradled her, Felix could at least make sure she had a decent meal when she decided she was ready to face the world outside her bedroom again.
Autumn had been so brave at the hospital, allowing him to distract her with card games, books, and television, but it seemed that the reality of coming home and not recognizing a thing hit her hard.
Felix couldn’t imagine what it would be like to wake up in a strange place surrounded by unfamiliar people and not know a damn thing about what was happening.
The one bright side seemed to be that she didn’t remember her accident.
The fact that Autumn had walked away with no bodily injuries other than a few bruises and scratched skin was a miracle, though the trade-off of losing everything she knew was a price he wished she’d never had to pay.
Felix berated himself for the millionth time since he’d gotten the phone call.
He should have insisted he go with her, drive her in his car that was far better equipped for the trip and for an accident.
If he’d done that, she might not even be in this mess and the two of them would be planning a date night instead of playing the get to know you game all over again.
Then there was the issue of how much to tell her?
Felix had pulled the doctor aside at one point and asked that very question, only to be told to answer Autumn’s questions about her life as honestly as possible without overwhelming her with too much information too quickly.
Her brain was still healing, and inundating her with everything might make things worse before they got better.
It was a tight rope Felix wasn’t so sure he could walk successfully, but he would have to try his hardest.
Wandering into the kitchen, Felix opened the pantry and searched for anything he could find to put together a meal.
They had plenty of ingredients, but he wanted something that would make her feel comforted as well as possibly trigger some memories for her.
Pushing aside his various bottles of hot sauce, Felix nearly yelped with glee when he spotted the blue box of stovetop macaroni and cheese.
No one in existence hadn’t had this dish as a kid, and it happened to be something Autumn enjoyed well into adulthood as well, Felix often finding her on the couch with a big bowl of the yellow-orange pasta on her lap as she read or watched television.
Grinning at the little cartoon macaroni noodle on the front, Felix went about gathering the rest of the ingredients to make the dish and the rest of the meal complete.
As he chopped romaine and shaved carrots for a side salad, Felix brightened at the prospect of this simple dish helping Autumn gain a little of herself back.
He wasn’t so na?ve to think that one bowl of macaroni and cheese would bring all her memories rushing toward the surface, but wouldn’t it be great if it did?
Felix had always been optimistic, probably to a fault.
Even if this didn’t work like he hoped it would, he would try something else, anything else that might help bring his Autumn back to him so that they could start the future they’d been intent on creating.
Felix had already wanted to try a romantic relationship, and almost losing her in the accident not only solidified that, but made him want to accelerate his plans.
The moment he thought he’d lost Autumn, Felix knew that what he felt for her was the real deal, the kind of once in a lifetime love that makes you buy a ring, get down on one knee, and propose.
The sooner they got her memories back, the sooner he could make that happen.
By the time Autumn ventured out of her room, the living area was dim from all of the clouds that had rolled in and blocked out the sun, the only light provided by the overheads in the kitchen.
The air smelled of butter and powdered cheese, and he desperately hoped that sense memory was real and would help get his best friend back what she’d lost. What they’d lost.
When Autumn peeked out of the door to her room, her pink hair slightly mussed and her eyes still red-rimmed, Felix’s breath caught at the sight of her.
She was still the same woman he’d loved as both a friend and as a potential lover, but the meekness and naked vulnerability evident in her body language were entirely new.
Seeing her cry and comforting her when she was upset were things he had done before, but even during those times of crisis, she retained a gentle strength that was just part of who she was.
In the past, it had always seemed like he wasn’t the one making her feel better, but was more of an accessory to her own journey toward centering herself.
Now, how could Autumn possibly get back to center on her own when she didn’t even know where that was?
Not wanting to upset her with another sad puppy look, Felix smiled and waved her over to the kitchen. Autumn’s mouth ticked up slightly as she hesitantly stepped toward him, her thick, striped socks padding softly against the light hardwood floor as she fidgeted with the hem of her sweater.
“Um, hello.” Her voice shook slightly, the uncertainty in her voice and the respectable distance she kept between them as she stopped at the table was another of what felt like thousands of tiny cuts to his spirit over the last five days.
The foot and a half of space may as well have been a canyon, for the look in her eyes was as distant as it had been just after her accident.
Felix reminded himself that he was still a stranger and that he was lucky she let him stay at the hospital with her, something she could have easily and understandably denied him.
The fear of being completely alone had been written all over her face when she’d agreed to that, and even though it wasn’t the reasoning he would have liked for her wanting his company, Felix had jumped at the chance.
It had been easy to ignore in their little hospital bubble, but now that they were at home, the evidence that she didn’t feel completely comfortable around him as she once had was evident.
“Hi,” he choked out.
Glancing away so she couldn’t see the pain written on his face, Felix grabbed a plate for her, willing his heart to stop splintering at every moment.
It would only make her feel bad and that was not his intention, the furthest thing from it.
For someone as open with his emotions as he was, it was going to prove incredibly difficult for Felix to hide away his feelings, but he would try his best for her.
Pulling himself together, he pasted on another false smile.
“I made one of your favorites,” he explained.
Plopping a heaping spoonful of macaroni onto her plate, he passed it to her before nodding at the salad and water glasses on the already set dining table.
“If you want something other than water, I’m afraid all we have is milk and apple juice.
” They also always had plenty of his cider on hand, but she was under strict orders to not imbibe alcohol, and Felix planned on following her discharge orders to the letter.
Autumn returned the smile he’d flashed her, but like his, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m good with water. Thanks, Felix.”
She shuffled over to the table and sat down in the chair facing the window.
It was the one she usually sat in, and watching her do something that was fairly typical helped settle the tornado of grief and sadness that had been swirling inside him for the last six days.
After plating up a bit of salad for herself, she stared at the bottle of vinaigrette for a moment before shrugging and putting it on her plate.
“Sorry we don’t have avocado,” he remarked as he took his own seat.
“My mom went to the store to get us a few staples so we didn’t have to worry about it first thing when we got home, but I forgot that we were out of them.
” He shrugged and dumped some vinaigrette onto his own leafy greens.
“We can go shopping tomorrow if you want.”
Autumn speared a forkful of romaine and pushed it into her mouth. “That’s okay,” she mumbled around the bite. Chewing thoughtfully, she bobbed a shoulder and stabbed at the salad again. “This tastes pretty good.”
Felix’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “Really?” Autumn nodded and continued to enjoy her salad. “Cool.”