Page 11 of Forget Me Not

Even if Kade never does come back into my life, things have changed. I no longer trust myself. If all it took was one good-looking enigma of a man to fracture my walls, then clearly, they weren’t strong enough in the first place.

I’m a doctor and I believe in all forms of medicine. That includes taking care of your mental health. I’ve seen therapy work wonders for people. I’ve also seen it do practically nothing for others. I’ve seen therapists before, and they all tell me the same thing. I avoid my problems.

Avoid is probably too light of a word. I lock them in the deepest corners of my mind and throw away all the keys is more like it. Then I drown the locks in cement and layer my walls thick to avoid anyone or anything breaking through them. I’m aware it’s unhealthy. I’m also aware that nobody I’ve ever seen has been able to help me fix the issue.

Possibly because subconsciously, I don’t want to fix the issue myself. Of course, there’s a part of me that wants to open up to people. To open the floodgates of my mind and let all my secretsflow out like molten lava. But the larger part of me fears who or what would get burned to ash when I do.

Therefore, my coping mechanism of choice is avoidance. It has been for as long as I can remember. I’m great at it, except when Kade is around, apparently. I groan at the fact that the man is plaguing my inner thoughts. I pull myself out of bed and to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and making myself look less like a zombie, I walk out to the kitchen where I’m assuming Demi is.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Demi says, not bothering to lower her voice as I adjust to the world of the living. I love the girl, but I swear she doesn’t have an off switch, or at least I haven’t found it if she does.

“Morning,” I mumble, heading straight toward my lord and savior. The Keurig. I swear the people that are any good to the world before drinking some form of caffeine have superpowers. I am unfortunately not one of those people.

“How was work last night?” she asks. Moving from the couch that is within view of the kitchen, she plops down on one of the kitchen barstools at the island. She leans both her elbows on the counter, dropping her chin into her hands to give me her undivided attention. It’s one of the things I love about her, she always makes everyone feel like they’re really being heard.

“It was a long night.” I sigh as I stick a K-Cup into the machine and wait for it to brew. “I kind of lost my shit on Ryan.”

“It’s about damn time,” she says, sitting up straighter in her seat with a smile on her face. Demi knows all about Ryan and his endless attempts to sleep with me. She has been encouraging me to take a firmer approach with him since the second time he asked, claiming I have to shout it in his face so he can hear it over his inflated ego. She may have been right.

I’ve never been a shouter though, and years of dealing with people who are have left me with more patience than most.That’s not to say I let people walk all over me because I don’t. I have no issue speaking my mind or putting people in their place, I just prefer to do it calmly.

“Well, I guess now that I’ve finally put your theory to the test, we will see how long he can go before convincing himself I do want him, again,” I say, internally hoping it’s forever. I grab the creamer from the fridge, pouring it into my mug until the liquid reaches the brim.

Putting the creamer back in the fridge and grabbing the cup of liquid gold, I make my way over to the counter where Demi is sitting. I set the cup down to let it cool and slide onto the barstool next to her, angling my body to face her.

“Are you okay, though?” she asks hesitantly. “You’re not a yeller, and I know you well enough to know that something had to have caused you to react that way.”

I can tell by the look on her face that she’s concerned. Demi knows more about me than anyone else. She knows about my past life in Florida. She knows about the shooting. She knows about Lennox and the years following it. The only thing she doesn’t know is how Lennox died. Although I’m pretty sure she assumes, and her assumptions would be correct. I’ve never come forward with the information, and she’s respectful enough to not push me to tell her when she can tell it’s something I’m not comfortable sharing.

“I’m okay.” I pause. It’s not that I’m uncomfortable telling her about Kade, but I never told her about meeting him at the bar, which I already know she would yell at me for. Plus, it seems stupid to explain how he affected me when I don’t know that I’ll ever see him again. If I do, I can address it when the situation arises. Running into each other twice seems like enough for this lifetime though. “Just a stressful workday.”

With the way that she’s looking at me, she knows I’m hiding things from her. She’s not dumb, but she doesn’t push me to giveher anything else. Nodding her head, she accepts the answer as I give it. “You worked a late shift last night, right? How was it?” I ask.

“Dreadful.” She sighs, slouching back down into her chair. “I swear the new manager lives to torment me.”

I laugh at her dramatics, and she glares at me.

“I’m not kidding,” she yells. “She scolds me every chance she gets and always makes sure to double-check only on my tables as if just waiting for me to screw up so she can yell at me some more. It’s not my fault her boyfriend stares at me every time he comes to visit her.”

“Sounds like she’s got a shitty boyfriend,” I say.

“Exactly! Dump his ass for being a pig, don’t take it out on your sweet, innocent employee. Girl power and all that shit.” She pouts. “Anyway, today’s your day off? What are you doing? I wish I could hang, but I have to be at work by three.”

“Yeah, it is, and it’s all good. I’m still physically and mentally exhausted from the week, so I think I’m just going to spend the day resting,” I say. “Also, I have work at eight in the morning tomorrow, so I don’t need to be running myself down even more.”

“Well, that sounds boring. But whatever tickles your pickle, I guess.” I don’t even question the phrase. She gets up from the barstool and moves to walk away before abruptly turning around. “Oh, wait! My half brother is coming for dinner tomorrow, please tell me you’ll be here. It’s the first time I’m cooking for him, and you know we just recently started getting closer, and I need your moral support.” She starts to ramble.

“Demi, calm, breathe,” I shush her. “I’ll be here. I get off work at five and will head straight home, I promise.” She audibly sighs at my response.

“Thank goodness. I told him seven, so that should give you plenty of time to get home and change. I think he’s bringing hisfriend or coworker or something too.” She pauses for a moment as if thinking. “I can’t exactly remember, I got so excited he said he was coming I sort of blacked out for the rest of the conversation. But oh well, the more, the merrier.” She smiles big.

“Sounds good, Dem. I’m sure he’s going to love everything and anything you cook.” I smile softly at her.

“Thanks, Lo. I hope so,” she says. The hope and desire for her big brother’s approval evident in her face. “Alright, I’m going to go mentally prepare myself to deal with the she-devil,” she says, referring to her manager before turning and walking toward her bedroom.

I don’t know much about Demi’s brother other than they share a dad and have different moms. I know their dad left her brother’s mom when he was young for Demi’s mom and they’re still together. I also know the siblings didn’t grow up together and just connected recently.

Demi doesn’t talk much about her family or what her life was like growing up. Something I can understand due to my own circumstances. Because of that, I know not to push better than anyone. If there was something Demi wanted me to know, she’d tell me.

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