Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Keane

Fuck this is killing me. Not my condition, but my situation.

Ophelia. And from what I’m gathering, we were probably married or something like that. Impossible since again, I can’t see a woman like that giving me a second glance but . . . if she’s mine, I’ll claim her. Fuck him and everyone else.

When she had the nurse bring me to my room, I wanted to tell her not to go with him, to stay with me and keep building something I can cling to. Memories, moments—fuck, even just words. I’d take anything. Do I remember the laptop incident she mentioned? Not a fucking chance. The pizza we shared? I do remember pizza, is that enough? Decker records? Yep, that was my second home while growing up and became part of me when I decided to start a career as a musician.

Can I pinpoint the exact moment I first saw her? Hell yes. Yesterday, in the hospital. And doesn’t that just sum up how fucking pathetic this is? She feels like she’s supposed to mean everything to me, but all I have is a blank fucking slate where my life used to be.

The way she talks about us, though—it’s starting to get under my skin. In a good way. Like maybe I can almost see it, the life we had together. The way her eyes light up when she says something she thinks I might recognize, like she’s handing me back pieces of myself. It’s impossible not to feel drawn to her.

But did I like it when she wished me good night just so she could go with him? Fuck no. That felt like a knife twisting in my gut. She’s mine. Even if I don’t remember her, even if I can’t claim her memories, she’s still fucking mine. He’s said it—made it clear that she’s his world—but I don’t give a shit. I don’t share. I never have, and I’m not about to start now.

If anything, I’ll get better for her. I’ll do whatever it takes to walk, to talk, to fucking live again. Not because I want to—let’s be clear on that. I don’t give a shit about being some inspiring comeback story. I just want her back in my old life, not this weird purgatory where I’m stuck watching someone else take what’s supposed to be mine.

If only I could remember what my old life even was.