Still With Me

He was too serious, too tense.

“What did you forget, my love?” she insisted.

“I forget everything,” he fumbled, delightfully surprised by Victoria’s concern. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t know this apartment. I don’t remember yesterday or the day before yesterday or the day or the month before.”

Victoria looked at him for a minute, puzzled; then she shrugged her shoulders. She sat on the couch and began rubbing her hair with the towel.

“Victoria…” He shivered as he pronounced her name. “I think I have amnesia.”

“Oh, come on. Stop it. You and your bad jokes.” She went on rubbing her hair vigorously, her head bowed.

How do I tell her? Is it really necessary? After all, whatever world I’m in, present or future, if they even exist, it’s wonderful because she’s here. So why worry about the past? Twelve months out of an eternity—what does it matter?

But Jeremy knew he couldn’t be himself again without getting back his memory of the last twelve months. He wanted to try one last time.

“I really don’t feel well. I have a headache. And…”

Hearing this, Victoria raised her head and looked at him indulgently. “That must be from the party last night. I’m not surprised after how much you drank!”

Jeremy shivered. A party last night? I drank too much? I don’t even like alcohol, but anything’s possible. That must be it! I celebrated my birthday and got drunk, drunk enough to forget a year of my life…

A weak theory, but plausible and reassuring. So that means I’m really alive. And when my hangover goes away, I’ll get my memory back.

“So what happened?” Jeremy asked, enchanted by the idea.

By then Victoria

had moved on to painting her nails.

“Oh, well, you definitely tied one on. You really don’t remember?” she asked slyly.

“No.”

“I see why you’d want to forget. You almost ruined the party. You told dirty jokes; you confessed your love for Clotilde…It would’ve been fine if you hadn’t punched Pierre when he told you to shut up.” She’d said all this without raising her head, a wry smile on her lips.

Her words bothered Jeremy. How could he behave that way? He was way too shy to act out like that. Could he have changed that much in one year?

“Love for Clotilde? Pierre?”

“Don’t worry about it; they weren’t offended. They know you get stupid when you drink. At the time, it bothered me. But then again, it was your birthday, you were drinking, all that…and anyway,” she added, smiling, “what you said to Clotilde was really flat compared to your confession to me, one year ago today.”

“You’re talking about what I said in the park? But…I had to say it…I’ve said it since then…”

She flashed a brilliant smile. “Yes, of course. Sweet words. Some touching. But no real declaration. Not the kind of thing that brings tears to your eyes…” She paused as if she were looking back on those moments. “You surprised me so much I brutally dumped the man who had just asked me to marry him so I could throw myself in your arms!”

The comment bothered Jeremy. It revealed part of their story and helped to make sense of his presence in her room, but it also revealed a surprising aspect of his personality.

He moved closer and sat down next to her. He took her hands and placed them against his cheeks. “You know, I should say beautiful things to you every day.”

“You’re so serious! Did I upset you, my love?” she asked, frowning.

“No, I just have a really bad…headache.”

She put a hand on his forehead. “It’s true, you don’t look good. You’re pale as a corpse.”

Jeremy shuddered at these words.

He decided to confide in her. She was the only one who could help. “I don’t feel well at all. I don’t remember anything about yesterday—or anything from the last year. It’s a total blank.”