Mallory
I stared up at the ceiling of my guest room, wearing the same clothes I wore to Jada's house. When I reached here, I stared at my phone for fifteen minutes, wondering what I should say to Reid.
In our first encounter since the crash, we'd already fought. We never fought before, because there was never anything serious enough to argue about. Or if there was an issue, we resolved it within a day. But our current situation felt so unsolvable. How could you cure this in a mere day?
The wound in our relationship was too fresh. My reward was finding unfamiliar ground; a new relationship that Reid and I were both too tired to fight for. I was aching to let go of the hurt, even if I didn't want to leave Reid. I wanted to stop hurting us.I was desperately ignoring the ugly truth. I needed to break our ties so we could heal separately.
No matter what I tried, our relationship was collapsing. It was changing, malforming into some twisted mess of a shape that I no longer recognised.
Cleo let me stay in her apartment for a few days, so I informed Nick that I wouldn't be there tonight. Cleo and Nick accepted my whims without a word, because they were my rocks during this period of hell. My friends, bless them, supported me through everything. Nina wasn't around much, so I assumed she was with Tony.
I felt guilty about my last encounter with Tony. The last time I saw him was at the hospital, on the day of the accident. I texted him multiple times but he wasn't responding. I knew that Tony hated texting and calling on principle, but that didn't help my anxiety. I was losing control over my own life, and it terrified me.
"Mallory."
I looked up at Cleo, who was framed in the door and looking worried. Somewhere in my mind, I felt bad because I was the reason for her stress. Then I couldn't bring myself to care. I felt too depressed to think rationally anymore. I was too innately selfish to care about anyone.
"Do you want to go out?" she asked tentatively. "We could dress up, get some takeout."
My mood plummeted from just thinking about leaving the room. "I'm sorry, Cleo, but I'm not in the mood."
"Please don't shut yourself away. I know it's really difficult right now, and you want something familiar and you're probably confused and scared, but you're not alone. You really aren't. Nick and I, we're always here for you. Tony and Nina too."
"Really? Then where are they? Why are you the only person here?"
"It's not like that; Tony has to be there for his brother. And Nina has to support both of them."
I laughed under my breath. "I'm really glad for that. So I don't factor in anyone's list of priorities? Great."
Cleo looked visibly hurt by my vindictiveness. Then her expression sharpened, and I knew she was going to give my rudeness right back to me.
"You factor in my list, Mallory, because you're important to me. I'll always have your back. You should realise that soon, because otherwise you're going to really lose us. Don't lose sight of what used to be important to you." Cleo said quietly. She looked at me unsurely and left the room.
I was so disoriented. I looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore my head spinning as I did so. My throat felt like it was closing up, and tears seeped onto my cheeks. I barely noticed them as they fell, because I cried every night after the accident. Call it mourning, if you will.
I used to be communicative with my thoughts, with my loved ones, but it was hard to get a word out now. The problem was the constant fluctuations in pity; one moment, everyone was there, the next it was just me. I was so lost.
I scrolled to find Reid's contact on my phone, and my thumb hovered over the typing line. I was scared, excited and pressured by my own trepidation. What do you say to someone you loved, when things used to be simple?
Then a message bubble appeared, of its own accord. I gripped my phone, watching the three flickering dots warily. Finally, Reid finished up his text. I'm sorry, Mallory. How about meeting at Capulet's at two?
I wanted to believe that we could still work. But I was miserable for too long; anxious and isolated by our plight. I typed out a reply and sent it before I started overthinking again. I needed closure.
I put in more effort into my appearance, hoping I looked saner. Nude lipstick, eyeliner, and a pretty sundress seemed appropriate for a café meet. But when I was standing outside Cleo's apartment, confronted with meeting Reid again, my stomach tightened into knots again. Leaving my temporary bedroom was hard enough, but stepping outside the front door made me feel unreasonably unsafe. A buzzing sensation filled my ears, and everything seemed too bright, too saturated.
"Hey, Mallory." a familiar voice said. I froze, and I was sure my face paled. I turned, and a familiar boy was standing feet away from me, hands in his pockets. His mouth was tipped up at the corner into a crooked smile as his intense eyes found my own.
"Brent." I said, willing my voice not to shake. Thankfully, it didn't. I clutched the hem of my dress unconsciously in my fist, keeping my hand steady. Brent moved closer. I instinctively skittered back from him, my back against the door. My other hand crept to my phone in my purse.
His calm expression changed to something reminiscent of pain. "I'd think you're afraid of me, from the way you're acting."
"I'm not afraid of you." I lied. "I'm wondering why you would be outside Cleo's apartment after two years. She would never invite you after what you did."
"I wanted to stop by, see some old friends." Brent said casually. He held his hands up and took a step away from me in compensation. He wanted me to lower my guard, and it worked for a moment.
I exhaled slowly, trying to find the right words. "That's funny. I didn't think you had any friends left in this part of the city."
I was glad to see that got to him. Brent scowled, kicking at the floor. "That's none of your business."
"It is my business if you're here now." I replied coolly, with something of my old sharpness. I felt sad, lost, an empty shell. Surely Brent saw that, even now, I was still miserable. It was a cycle of peaks and troughs of happiness; one day, I was on top of the world. In hours, I became melancholic.
Brent carefully extricated every inch of annoyance from his expression, returning admiration to his face. I always hated his volatility. "You look stunning in that dress. Where are you off to?"
"That's none of your business." I echoed him. He looked furious, ready to explode at my retort.
Things started moving too quickly. Brent forced his way into my personal space, gripping my right arm in his hand tightly. "You still haven't learned, have you?" he gritted out. "You're mine. That never changed, not after we broke up. Not ever."
I struggled, clawing at his hand on my skin. My heart was beating against my chest, fluttering with panic. "Get off me!"
At last, he released his grip and stepped away, panting with exertion. I tore myself away and ran down the street, putting as much distance as I could between us. Alarm bells were ringing in my head. For once, couldn't I have a break from the constant stress and fear? Brent, my manipulative ex-boyfriend from high school, tracked me down. He knew where I was living.
After an hour, I sat down at a park and cried on a bench. Seeing Brent brought back all the trauma from our relationship. That, compounded with my issues with Reid, were too much to handle.
Eventually, I dried my tears and called a taxi, because Reid was coming to see me. Regardless of Brent's assault, I knew that Reid was the only person who could calm me down. Even if Reid didn't know who Brent was anymore.
I sat at our reserved table, watching the people around me in my periphery. Eventually, I heard the sound of a chair scraping in front of my table. I looked up sharply, my heart hammering in my chest. The waiter who tucked the chair in looked at me sheepishly, offering an awkward smile. I returned his smile, then stared at the tablecloth, forcing my breathing to calm.
"Hey." a calm, measured voice said. I looked up, and my breath stopped. Reid was smiling down at me, looking perfect. He sat opposite me, leaning casually in his chair while raking a hand through his hair. It was such a familiar habit of his that it stung me to watch.
"Hi, stranger." I greeted with a smile, but I couldn't mask my nervousness. Reid must have sensed it, but he grinned easily anyway.
"You look different." he commented, looking carefully at my face.
I was intrigued. I ran my fingers through my hair, asking, "Is that a good different?"
His eyes ran over my face, then my hair. He propped his chin on his cupped hand, studying my eyes. "Gorgeous different. Even though you look beautiful every day."
I blushed, forcing myself to ignore the way my heart fluttered for him, calling his name. "You're still a smooth talker."
Reid smirked. "You caught me on a good day, that's all. Right now, I'm nowhere as calm as I appear."
I raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to laugh. "Trust me, I'm the same." I quipped playfully. Reid smiled at my attempt to flirt with him, looking away briefly.
But I wanted the smile Reid used to give me. I tried to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't find mine. "I'd like to know you. I'm sure you already know enough about me." Reid remarked, rolling his eyes.
"I would say I do." I replied quietly. Reid looked into my eyes, and I saw his concern. It unnerved me. So I tore my gaze away and focused on the napkin in front of me, picking it up with one hand. The heavy material was sleeker than cotton, but rougher than silk, so that it crept a steady trail through the crevices between my fingers.
I picked up my menu again, running down the options even though I'd done this about twenty times prior. I didn't look at Reid again, fear seeping into my heart. Everything was regressing from bad to worse in my life. Except for him.
"How did you choose Capulet's?" I asked Reid.
He looked up at me with a smile, explaining, "Tony recommended it. Was it important to you?"
I swallowed lightly. "Yeah. We came here a couple of times. The owners knew us quite well."
Reid's eyes turned downwards. He tried to hide it, but I saw the way his jaw tightened with bitterness. "Right."
We returned to silence. I peeked at Reid over my menu, and he didn't notice. I took the opportunity to observe the familiar lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, which I used to place my hands on whenever we kissed. His eyes were lowered, thoughtfully studying our options.
If I could have told anyone about Brent, it should have been Reid. It was always him, before the crash. Because of our horrible misfortune, he was now the last person I could confide in. I couldn't unload my burdens onto him, not with everything else he was coping with.
Love, elation, terror, sorrow. Just watching Reid's face elicited every possible emotion in me.
"Are you ready to order?" a waitress asked, coming over to our table. Reid assented, giving our order after he'd asked what I was having. We returned to silence again. We were never silent. Even in past arguments, our combined stubbornness only lasted fifteen minutes at most. But I had no idea of how to bridge this gap now.
I felt Reid's hand touching mine. I moved my hand away quickly.
"I'm sorry, I should have asked you." he apologised gently. "I saw that mark on your arm."
My face paled. Brent must have left a bruise. "Oh, yeah. That was just- I burned my hand on the stove."
Reid appraised me carefully. He knew me once, and I was wondering how much of that he'd managed to pick up on since the crash.
"Lying clearly isn't your strong suit. That's a bruise, not a burn, so who did it?" Reid asked coolly, his eyes steadily holding mine. I turned scarlet, embarrassed by Reid's perceptiveness. Even now, I could never hide anything from him.
"Reid, it's not serious." I told him desperately. "He just got angry, that's all."
He looked up at me, and I could see anger starting to simmer under the surface of his neutral expression. "So it was intentional."
"It was just my ex-"
That was my fatal mistake. Reid's face went through a number of emotions before it settled. "Right." he nodded slowly, his face the picture of calm. But I knew the little signs too well; the incessant tapping of his foot on the floor, so light I could barely hear it; his eyes fractionally narrowed, darkened. Reid was silently raging. "Brent. I remember him."
I almost stopped breathing. Time slowed as I held Reid's gaze. A storm was brewing behind his eyes. "How do you remember Brent?" I asked warily.
Reid shouldn't have known anything about Brent, unless Tony told him something. According to Reid's current memories, my ex never existed. I didn't exist until a week ago, until I stepped into his new life.
"Tony told me about your ex." he replied, confirming my theory. "Brent was in my class at elementary school, so I'm well acquainted with his shitty attitude. When did he hurt you?"
Reid didn't notice the absolute shock that flitted over my face. He never once told me that crucial piece of information. Even when we were all going to the same high school, he met Brent on numerous occasions during my relationship with the latter. They'd barely acknowledged each other, but their relationship ran deeper than they let on.
I thought I was the only connection between my boyfriend and my ex, but that was a lie. Reid didn't know this was a secret he was keeping from me, but I knew. And it made me uncomfortable.
I couldn't help second-guessing my old relationship with Reid. If he'd known that Brent was abusive, that he had anger issues, then why didn't he let on? Why did he bite his tongue when he saw us together?
What if dating me was his way of getting back at Brent? If he hated Brent so much, then dating his ex might have seemed funny at the time. I was faintly paranoid by nature, thanks to my trust issues, but Reid never made me doubt him before this. It was a complete twist I never expected.
I resolved to find out whatever Reid was hiding. I'd observe what he did with the information I gave him. I kept my expression neutral, then divulged the truth. "Brent was waiting outside of Cleo's apartment before I came here."
"Is he still there? Did you tell anyone about it?" Reid asked inquisitively. The anger in his face died down, but I saw the calculating look slip across his face.
"I didn't know what to do. We broke up almost two years ago, and I've never seen him since. Until today."
"Then staying at Cleo's apartment isn't safe anymore." Reid leaned forwards in his chair. "I know you used to live at that apartment I rented, just outside of Collard. So why are you staying with Cleo?"
I was thrown off by his sudden switch in conversation. "Because I thought you might want to go back there. Don't you think it would be weird for me to stay at your apartment now?"
"Would it?" Reid said with a shrug. "I'm not so sure."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked cautiously.
"I mean that while my memories are gone, my feelings aren't. Every time I see you, my heart feels it. I see you, and I feel like I've known you all my life. Even though we've only met in person today." Reid confessed. His eyes widened with uncertainty as he spoke, as if he was shocked by his own words.
If I was confused before, I was completely bowled over by this revelation. But against my will, a familiar sensation of affection stifled my distrust, overwhelming my senses.
Reid took my hand in his, entwining our fingers. He looked at our hands, then into my eyes. "I don't want to fight with you, Mallory." he said with complete sincerity. "I don't want awkwardness or a forced relationship. I just want you. Here, now, with me. That's all I ask from you."
No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that Reid had changed, this proved me completely wrong. Reid always took care of me before anyone. Even now, with the past year gone from his mind, he was still concerned for me. He wanted me to know that he was fighting in my corner.
And all I could think was: how could I have ever doubted him?
Reid, before or after the crash, was still mine to call. I was equally his, and everything in me was telling me this. Everything I remembered; the fights, the jokes, the conversations I treasured. He was my most precious person. I was lucky enough to have another shot at making it count.
I couldn't put my feelings into words, so I squeezed my hand in his, holding our hands to my heart. I laughed softly under my breath, embracing the joy of this moment taking hold of me.
"Yes." I said.
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