Haven't We Met Before?

ALEX

I stand frozen as my husband of fifteen years disappears into the kitchen. I knew he was frustrated with my illness and didn’t find me attractive anymore, but this… I’m at a loss for what to do next when I hear a soft creaking on the stairs. I look up to see Nena standing there, her face a tearstained mess.

“Are you okay, Mom?”

I rush over to her, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Dad’s just stressed from work. He didn’t mean it.”

Nena lifts her head, looking at me with sad eyes. “Yes, he did, Mom. I heard him talking about you on the phone earlier.”

A sharp pain pierces my chest. I knew Bart was struggling with my illness and my change of appearance, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.

I cradle Nena’s face gently in my hands, planting a warm kiss on her forehead. “Don’t fret about it, honey. I’ll ask Grandma if you can stay over at her place tomorrow, and if that would be a problem, which I doubt, you’ll just tag along with me.”

Nena gives me a skeptical look, her eyebrow arching. “I could just stay home by myself. I’m thirteen, Mom. I’m not a little kid anymore. I can handle being alone for a night.”

With a smile, I plant a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “Yeah, well, I beg to differ, sweetheart. Now off to bed!”

I linger until I hear the soft click of Nena’s bedroom door, then head to the car, my stomach twisted in knots.

As I drive to the hospital, my anger toward Bart intensifies. Who the hell does that jerk think he is? It’s not like I chose to have cancer!

Walking through the eerily quiet hospital corridors, I make a firm decision. Bart can go to hell. If he thinks he can find someone prettier or who will take better care of him somewhere else, then he should just go.

EDWARD

My head throbs, and hurts, like it has been hit against a brick wall again and again. In the dark, I frantically search for the nurse’s call button, cursing myself when I can’t find it fast enough. I desperately need pain relief. After a few moments, I finally find the small device and press the button, silently praying for a quick response.

Carefully, so as not to aggravate my headache, I turn my face to the window. It is pitch black outside and yet, despite the pounding headache, I cannot help but wonder what time it is.

The sound of a door opening catches my attention, and I turn my head too quickly to see who it is. A stab of pain shoots from one side of my head to the other like a bolt of lightning. I wince and groan, closing my eyes in the hope that the pain will go away.

Suddenly, a cool hand rests on my forehead. Cautiously, I open my eyes to see who it is. Relief washes over me at the sight of my little night owl, and I try to smile at her, but I can’t.

“Hey, Edward. You called?” Her eyes sweep over my face. “A lot of pain?” Alex’s voice is tinged with concern, something I would normally find annoying, but from her it’s not bad.

I nod slowly. “Yeah. The pain is unbearable.” I don’t care if I sound weak or dramatic. I’ve experienced a lot of pain in my life—broken ribs, legs, even a skull fracture—but this pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

Alex gives me a brief nod. “I can see that. I’ll get you something. I’ll be right back,” she says, and off she goes.

Just as quickly as she left, Alex returns. I extend my hand to take the pills, but she shakes her head and pulls back my blanket to reveal my thigh. “This will work a lot faster,” she says, and before I know it, she’s giving me a shot in my leg. Once she’s done and has pulled the covers back up, she sits down next to me on the edge of the bed.

“Have you spoken to the doctor yet?” Her serious expression is endearing, and I can’t help but smile slightly.

“Yeah, I have. He came by this afternoon, but to be honest, I don’t really remember what he told me.” I shrug apologetically at my night angel.

A lopsided smirk appears on her face. “I get it, you’re probably still groggy from the anesthesia. Just remember not to make any sudden movements with your head. Also, you can’t go to the bathroom alone, and you won’t be able to shower for the next two days.” Seeing my bewildered look at the bathroom comment, her grin widens.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be in there with you while you’re using the toilet. Just call me when you’re done.”

The relief on my face must be evident because she starts to chuckle softly. The sound is so sweet that I can’t help but grin in response.

My gaze drifts up to her headscarf. It’s a light silvery gray silk with white, irregular curls at the edge. I squint to get a better look.

“Is there something on my head?” Her question snaps me out of my trance.

“No, but this scarf…” I see her face tense up and she looks away. I don’t quite understand.

“Look, it’s beautiful, but those strange curls… Why are they so random? They seem to be—” To my surprise, she seems relieved by my words, and I furrow my brows. I don’t quite understand her reaction.

She carefully pulls out the tip of the scarf from the wrapped fabric and unfolds it a little, revealing the white curls. My eyes widen as I realize that the curls are not curls at all, but embroidered words along the edge of the scarf. I look at her in astonishment.

“My mother made this scarf for me when I got sick and we found out I would lose my hair because of the chemo. She embroidered a poem on it to give me strength. Even though I have several scarves, this one is my favorite and the one I wear the most.”

I smile and raise my hand to touch her scarfed head, and I see her eyes widen in surprise. I quickly lower my hand. “Sorry, that was inappropriate of me. I was just curious about how the fabric would feel.”

Her eyes scan my face curiously, but then she tilts her head slightly forward so that I can reach her head better. Careful not to mess up the cloth too much, I let it slide along my fingers. It feels soft and smooth, but not slippery, more like thin air.

Then her pager starts to beep. My hand falls as she slowly stands up.

“Sorry, Edward. Duty calls. I’ll come by later to check on you.” And with that beautiful smile of hers, she bids me goodbye.

The painkiller she gave me starts to work. The sharp pain soon dulls to a manageable ache. Relieved, I lean back against the pillow and feel myself slowly drifting off.

ALEX

Halfway through the night, I go to check on my biker. Thankfully, the medication seems to have done its job, as I find the big man asleep.

I step farther into the room cautiously, keeping my small flashlight pointed at the floor so as not to wake him. I examine the bandage that covers a large part of his head and his left eye. I smile. The wound doesn’t seem to be leaking, and I turn to leave the room. A soft moan catches my attention, and I see Edward’s face contort. Damn! I celebrated too soon.

I quickly head to the medicine cabinet to prepare another shot of painkiller.

When I return to the room, I see that his face is still twisted in pain. As gently as I can, I wake Edward up. I know from experience that being woken up in the middle of the night is annoying, but waking up in pain is even worse.

He looks at me with a dazed expression, and I smile. Half asleep like this, he seems less like the intimidating biker.

“I’ve come to give you some pain relief. You’re going to feel another sting in your leg, but the painkiller is going to do his job fairly quickly,” I whisper to him softly.

Edward nods sleepily and gives me a small, crooked smile before closing his eyes again. I stand there in silence, looking at this big, tough guy, astonished at my own behavior and fighting the urge to brush away the strand of hair that has slipped over the bandage. Quickly, before I can reach out my hand to him, I make my way to the door, closing it behind me with a gentle thunk.

***

When my shift ends, I drive home with a knot in my stomach. For the first time, I pray that Bart has already left the house. Even though I don’t really feel like it, I have to confront Bart about his behavior last night.

As I turn into our street and my eyes automatically wander toward our house, I see that his car is not there. I should be angry that he isn’t there, but deep down, I feel lighter. When I get out and open the garage door, I see that Nena’s bike is also gone, and I breathe a sigh of relief. At least he had the decency to wake up his daughter so she gets to school on time.

As I step into the hallway of our house, I sense that something is wrong, but I can’t put my finger on it. With a growing sense of unease, I walk into the living room. My eye immediately catches the large, white wall cabinet that keeps our accounts, but now a couple of doors are wide open, and a number of binders are missing.

I hurry back to the hallway and sprint two steps at a time up the stairs to the second floor. As I enter our bedroom, my heart skips a beat. All his drawers are open and completely empty. With my heart pounding, I walk over to the wardrobe we share and, with a trembling hand, I slowly pull it open. Bile rises in my throat. Bart’s clothes are gone, and there is no sign of his shoes either.

Defeated, I sit down onto the bed, feeling just as empty as the furniture.