8. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Jax
W atching Allie eat the homemade macaroni and cheese she used to make every few weeks after finding a recipe for it makes me smile. It never tastes the same when I make it, but she seems to enjoy it.
"It's a recipe you found online," I say, taking a bite of the rich cheese sauce covered noodles.
I used to get so sick of this when she'd make it, groaning when I'd see her pull out the evaporated milk and shredded cheese. But as soon as she was gone, it became the only thing I wanted to eat. It would be the only meal I’d eat for days sometimes.
Using her trick to try and make it more appetizing for me, I added sausage. Not only does it make it a little less rich but it also adds protein. And she could really use the nutrients. The number of deficiencies she has worries me a bit.
"It's good," Allie says.
For some reason, the moment Sage left, Allie seemed distant. I've told her three stories so far, all relating to food, only to be met with a polite smile in response. Part of me wonders if I tell her the right story that it might jog her memory. Be the trigger she needs. Nothing works, though.
"Can I ask why there's a bunch of frog figurines all over the house? Do we have a frog farm or something?" she asks as I take the plates.
I smile and turn to look at her as I set the plates down and lean against the sink. "It's a running joke with our friends. Whenever they come across something frog related, they buy it for you. And you proudly display them around the house."
"Why? The frogs, not why I displayed them."
"We stayed at the lake with everyone—Sage, Benji, Drew, Seth, and Laura—and you found these traps set up for frogs and toads. When you found out it was the cranky old man in the cabin next to us, and he planned to use the frogs for fishing for bass, you lost it."
Her eyebrows lift. "Your fiancée was with us?"
"She wasn't my fiancée then. She was just a friend."
"What do you mean I lost it?" she asks, shifting topics.
It makes me a little uncomfortable that she doesn't seem fazed in the least about Laura and I being engaged. "You got so angry that you went and freed all the frogs. All we saw in the tall grass leading down to the lake was hopping green things. The guy came out, pissed as hell, but you stood your ground. You put him in his place."
"Because he captured the frogs?"
"Yes," I say and laugh. "You told him how terrible it was to trap those defenseless creatures just to go fishing. Oh man, you laid into him. He looked ready to cry by the time you were done with him. God, the look on his face when you hugged him and told him to do better... Man, it was amazing. What did he say to you when you did that? I can't remember. "
Her blue eyes stare blankly at me, and I realize what I just said. "You were the one telling the story, Jax."
"I'm sorry, I was kind of talking more to myself than you with that question. We shared so many great memories that sometimes they blur together," I say and walk to the fridge to pull out a chocolate creme pie. "I saw this in the store, and I had to pick up your favorite dessert."
"Dessert?"
"You love chocolate, even though you'd tell me to limit how much you ate. It's a celebration," I say, trying to gloss over my slip up. "I wasn't sure if I'd have you back here with me, Allie, and you are. I mean, it's a miracle—"
I stop talking when she stands up and turns her back to me, her shoulders lifting as she takes deep breaths.
"Allie?"
"I understand you know me, Jax," she says, turning to face me. "The old me. The person I was before. But I don't know her. I don't share her memories, and I'm not the other half of the couple you want me to be but keep forgetting I'm not. I don't remember you."
The words hurt. I know she's not trying to be mean, but it doesn't make them sting any less. "I know."
"I don't think you do. I get that you're trying to help me remember, and I appreciate it, but it feels like you're trying to overload me with information and make me remember. There's so much pressure to be her, and I'm not. I'm not her, Jax. I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm not the Allie you want."
Setting the pie on the table, I hold my hands up in surrender. "I'm not trying to force you into anything you don't want, Allie, I swear."
"I don't want to hurt you, but I'm not in love with you. I know you're in love with me, but I don't know you. Those pictures, they tell a story of love and companionship.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “That version of me looks like she loves you. She does. But I'm not her, and I can't help but think that maybe this was a mistake."
My heart races as I stare at her. "What was a mistake?"
"Coming here. You want the woman you lost, and I want to figure out who I am. It's really hard to do that when it feels like I'm being shoved into a box that feels too small. You keep forgetting that I’m not the person you knew. Not yet, and it’s overwhelming."
Taking her hand on instinct, I stare into her eyes for a few moments as I try to figure out how to explain it's not a mistake. That nothing about us is a mistake. "I don't want you to leave."
She breaks eye contact and stares down at our joined hands, but she doesn't pull away. "Jax—"
"I'm going about this the wrong way, I know. I'm... I'm sorry. I think I'm as overwhelmed as you are. Having you here, with me, feels like a miracle and a dream, and I'm scared that I'll wake up in the morning to find you gone. That you were never really here, and it's driving me a little crazy. But I'll back off. Everything we do will be at your pace; I promise. Just... stay."
She stares at our joined hands, but remains silent. I hold my breath, relishing our closeness, if just for a moment.
"If you want me to stop telling you stories unless you ask, I can do that. If you want me to back off and not tell you what you like and don't like, I'll do that, too. I'm just begging you to please not push me away. Please don't give up and leave. I can't bear the thought of you not being here. I know you don't love me, but I love you. More than anything."
Again, she just stares at our hands. I refuse to be the one to break the physical touch we haven't really had yet. It feels like the first real, solid proof she's not an illusion or hallucination that my sad mind has made up.
"If you want, I'll stay in the guest room while you take the master. We haven't really talked about sleeping arrangements, but I have no expectations. My only goal is to make sure you're comfortable, and I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. I just need you to tell me."
"You used to hold my hand like this a lot, didn't you?" Allie asks, finally speaking since saying my name.
"All the time," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Unless we were with my family, we were almost always in contact with each other. There could be a crowd of seventy thousand people, and we could be having two different conversations with different people, but we'd always be close enough to hold hands like this. Always close enough to touch."
Swallowing, she looks up in to my eyes. "I remember the touch. Not... Nothing specific. It's familiar. Like Sage's hug."
My heart races, and I let out a shaky breath. "Please, Allie, can I... hold you?"
She nods, and I pull her against me like I always did. She fits just like she always has, and she even rests her head over my heart like she used to. "This is comforting."
"Do you want the story, or would you rather I leave it be?"
"Tell me."
"When you'd start to have a panic attack, or even when you were just overwhelmed or stressed, you’d come to me and want me to hold you like this. You'd place your ear on my chest and focus on my heartbeat. You said it grounded you. That sometimes you felt like a balloon floating around the atmosphere, and this kept you close to the ground. The only thing keeping you from floating away."
Sniffling, she nods against my chest. "It feels like that," she admits. "It’s calmed my anxiety."
My hand cups the back of her head as the tears fall. "I'm sorry for pushing you, Allie. I didn't mean to, I swear."
"I just need to know we're on the same page. That I'm not the girl you remember."
I swallow and nod. "I know."
"Trust me, I want to be the girl who loves you. Who has all these memories with you, but it's really overwhelming right now. Everyone so far looks at me like they expect the person they know. That just the sight of them should bring everything flooding back to me, and I feel like I'm a disappointment. That I'm disappointing you, and I don't mean to."
"You're not disappointing anyone. We're... we're all going through a period of adjustment. Please be patient with us all. None of us really knows how to do this."
She nods. "I suppose you know as much as I do about how we're supposed to handle this. I can't expect more from you than you can from me."
"Just promise you'll keep talking to me. If you feel like I'm pushing or expecting too much, tell me. I... I don't really know what I'm doing, either."
"I want to remember, Jax. I really do, but I can't make the memories come back by sheer will. Believe me, I've tried. Even before I got out, I tried. But I'll make sure to let you know if it feels like we're not working together. "
"I'm really glad you're home, baby," I whisper. "Even if it's not how it was before. Honestly, the not knowing where you were or what you were going through felt like a horror movie playing on repeat for over seven years. Like it was never going to end."
Her arms tighten around me, and for a moment, it feels normal. "Did you hear anything I told the detectives?"
"No, I didn't. I'm thankful to know you weren't terribly hurt or abused. Well, besides being tied up. I caught that much from Dr. Westmore. It's just really hard to be on this side of it, too, because it's impossible not to question if the person you love is being tortured when you can't get to them. When they've just disappeared off the face of the earth. Every single thing that comes to mind tops the last worst-case scenario."
"I'm okay, I think," Allie says and pulls back to look up at me. "I think we'll all be okay. As long as we work together."
I sure hope so.