Page 16 of When Forever Stays

Despite understanding his point, I can’t keep the anger from simmering in my words. “I’m not ‘playing stupid.’ I have no memories of who I am, let alone what happened between me and Dana. Believe me, I wish I did. Because then I’d do whatever I could to make things right with her.”

Crew puts the cap on the water bottle and sets it down on the side table. He takes a menacing step toward me. Despite the man’s smaller stature, the look of pure hatred in his eyes has my spine stiffening, and I prepare myself for his wrath.

“Maybe you’re not playing stupid now, but what you did was the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“Tell me what it is so I can try and fix it.” I have to fight the desire to shout.

His jaw ticks, and I can see that he’s contemplating whether he should or shouldn’t tell me. I can hear Dana rummaging around in the kitchen before Crew finally says, “Over the course of a week, you managed to work your way into her heart and break it when you ghosted her.”

“I ghosted her?” I shake my head. Even with what little I know about Dana, I can’t imagine ghosting her.

“Maybe you’re just an idiot. It would explain why you left that girl without a word.” He points toward the kitchen, where Dana is getting me ice, completely unaware of what’s going on in her living room.

The pull I have toward her now, even without memories of our time together, is too strong to ignore. If I spent a week with her, and from what he’s saying, a week where she fell for me, why would I walk away? We’ve been together for less than twenty-four hours, and not a single cell in my body wants a break from her. The mere thought of being away from her brings severe dread. It’s sort of pathetic, but being with her is the stability I need while my life is on unsteady ground.

“I wish I could remember. I really do.”

He stares me down, and it takes everything in me to not shrink away. Even being almost a head shorter than me the guy is intimidating.

“Dana is the absolute best person I know. Any guy would be lucky to have her. If you so much as cause her to sniffle, you’ll have me to deal with.” He pokes my chest.

Before my brain can fully process his words or come up with a response, Dana walks back into the living room and gives me a bag of ice for my side.

Crew sits across from me. His dark glare vanishes when he looks at Dana. Her eyes shift between us, obviously seeing the dissension there.

“What did you two talk about while I was in the kitchen?” she asks.

“Guy stuff,” Crew replies, looking at me with a challenge in his expression.

Considering he and Dana are clearly close, I need to make sure I get on his good side. So instead of telling her that he threatened me, I agree with him.

“Yeah, guy stuff.”

She looks between Crew and me, clearly not believing us shown by the expression she wears but she doesn't push any further.

Crew prays, and the second I lift the pizza up to my mouth and the scent of pepperoni and melted cheese hits my nose, my stomach releases a loud grumble. I practically inhale the first two pieces and eat another two before my stomach feels satisfied. I gulp down my water, then take all of our dishes to the kitchen and load them in the dishwasher.

It’s late and my body is exhausted, but my mind needs a minute to wind down before I can fall asleep. Besides, I’m starting to feel the side effects of my concussion, and sitting helps with the dizziness.

Dana sits between me and Crew and puts on a documentary. After she presses play, Crew rolls his eyes. I have no interest in the history of wheat, so I use this opportunity to try and piece together what little I know about myself and what Crew says happened with Dana. When we drove past the resort Dana says I once worked at, a few scattered puzzle pieces of memories fell into my blank mind. But I can’t put them together. The snippets are there but they’re not enough to make sense of anything. Especially everything with Dana.

If we dated, why in the world would I have left her? Am I the type of guy who would walk away from a good thing just because? Or is there more to the story than what Dana and Crew know? Maybe there’s something I kept from Dana that explains my actions. I’m hoping and praying that I had a legitimate reason to leave—especially without a goodbye.

Hopefully, my memories will eventually come back, but the past few hours have confirmed that remembering is something I can’t force. It’s time to focus on the here and now. I sink deeper into the cushion. Crew’s arm is casually draped across the back of the couch behind Dana, but he doesn’t touch her.

More questions fill my mind: Are Dana and Crew more than friends? Nothing either of them has done makes me think they are, but what would I know? Will Dana ever forgive me for what I did? Will I ever understand or remember whatever it was?

We’re only ten minutes into the documentary, but all of these thoughts and questions are draining me. The more the narrator of this documentary drones on, the more my mind wants to give in to the need for sleep that my body is begging for.

“I really should get to bed,” I say, rubbing my face and standing.

Dana raises her arms over her head and stretches. “Me too.” She gives me a sleepy smile. “This documentary never ceases to put me to sleep.”

“Well, then get out of here, because you’re on my bed,” Crew says, stretching out his legs.

With a severe eye roll in response, Dana disappears down the hall and comes back into the living room carrying pillows and blankets, handing them over to Crew before bidding us goodnight.

“Do you stay here often?” I ask Crew.

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