I'm not a very social person, well at least I wasn't when I was 23. I'm not sure how I was at this age. Thus spending a week on my lonesome did not bother me at all. I didn't spend the whole time lazing around and doing nothing. I spent time looking through my apartment, researching about who I am supposed to be. So many issues of the magazine that I'm supposedly working at were stacked in a spare room that seemed like an office of some sort that I perhaps used to write for the magazine. I spent majority of my time in the office, rummaging through files of work. I decided that if I wasn't going to gain back my memories rapidly, then I might as well do my research on my career and social life and try to force myself to become the person that I am supposed to be. That way I could go on living my life and hopefully gain the forgotten memories over time. I wasn't going to stop my life over this silly accident. I had to fix myself up on my own.

I threw the pile of files across the desk I was sitting at with a sigh of frustration. I felt like I was back at university studying for a stupid exam. I knew I was pressuring myself into information overload and I knew why. The receptionist from the medical centre that my doctor is at called to ask for myself to visit her to get a check up. I wanted to show Dr Reade that I have made progress since the accident. It has been three weeks since the accident and in reality, three weeks is not long enough for a patient suffering from amnesia to regain some, if not, all their memories but I felt so useless and with only one snippet of memory I have gained, it seemed like it was not enough. It was not enough because there were no results coming out from it. I was still stuck in the same spot as I was almost a month ago. Furthermore, I did not know what to say to her. Just by thinking of telling her that I haven't made much of a progress and that I have cut Tom out of my life sounded like such failure.

I settled myself on the sofa and decided to watch a movie called Pitch Perfect. The DVD was placed on top of my DVD player which obviously meant that I watched it recently and I assume that I was quite entertained by the movie which was why I wanted to watch it. I of course, also wanted to watch it in case it triggered a forgotten memory. As I laid there on the soft leather sofa, I started to wonder if pushing Tom out of my life was the right decision to make especially with the condition I was in. I frowned at that thought which was followed by another thought that rejected the previous one. Of course I made the right decision! I didn't need people to help me remember! It was not their mind that decided to dispose of the memories, it was mine. At that very thought I raised my head from my lying position suddenly and froze in that position. Dispose of the memories, I repeated in my head. Could it be that my mind just got in so much trauma that it decided to permanently delete those memories? No, it couldn't! My eyes widened. It has been three weeks and I only gained one memory, just one. Three weeks was too long of a time frame to have lack of memory retrieval for amnesia patients, right? Of course it was! I was with Tom that whole time and he was the main person I spent my last three years with and no changes was occurring in my memory bank.

I jumped off the sofa and started to pace my apartment as my mind kept throwing thoughts about the same subject that intensified my panic over the situation. Until I realised that I was frightening myself over (hopefully) impossible situations, the movie I was supposed to be watching was halfway through and my legs ached from pacing around too much. I sat back down on the sofa and tried to watch the movie as I silently told myself to calm down. I was just plainly over thinking about the situation. I sighed and shook my head trying to mentally shake off the foolish thoughts and replayed the movie. I was not going to worry about it until tomorrow which was when my appointment was in the morning with Dr Reade.

Cursing. That was all I was doing as I desperately tried to get ready for my appointment with Dr Reade. Nothing was going right. I could not find an outfit that I could successfully pull on with my broken arm in the cast that was so inflexible. After that frustration, I could not find my purse and spent 15 minutes searching absolutely everywhere for it until I found it under a pile of coats on my bedroom floor. The frustrations just kept coming from my hair to make-up to what to eat for breakfast. I blamed the universe and it was not helping my overwhelming anxiety about this appointment.

Finally, after what felt like eternity trying to get ready to expose myself in public I was ready. I hurriedly walked to the front before I halted just a metre from the door when a panicked thought emerged in my already restless mind. How was suppose to get myself there?! I huffed. I had no idea how public transport worked here and I was pretty sure my car was a ride-off so that was out of the question. Glancing at the analogue clock on the wall, I had no time to think of how I was going to get there. I just had to figure out something as I walk to the nearest bus stop or anything that could take me to where I needed to be.

My train of thoughts went off track when someone on the other side of the door knocked it. Being close to the door caused me to jump from the unexpected loud knock. I didn't waste time in answering the door. It was then that I was not sure if the reason behind the panicked, loud and fast beating of my heart was because of the sudden door knocking or because Tom looking all polished and handsome standing at my doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" I asked without thinking.

He didn't flinch as if he was expecting that question and instead replied in such a calm manner, "Your appointment with Dr Reade. I'm here to take you there."

"What? How did you know about that?"

His eyes kept on me, never moving his gaze elsewhere. "Dr Reade assumes that I am supporting you in this situation so she notified me about the appointment."

"Right," I gazed at the floor. "Well, you don't need to take me there. I can take the bus."

He let out a short chuckle, "Love, her medical centre is not near a bus stop."

I pressed my lips together. I wanted to tell him not to call me love again but I couldn't dare myself to. That word rolled out of his tongue so easily and it felt so nice to hear it. "Then I'll catch a cab."

"You mean taxi?" he smirked. "And by the time you do, you will be late for the appointment. Come on," he grabbed my uninjured arm and walked me out of my apartment whilst making sure my front door was locked and closed. "We'll be late if we keep up with this bickering nonsense."

I huffed at him and let myself be dragged to his car downstairs. He looked at me as I huffed, seeing the annoyance expressed on my face and turned around with a chuckle. He just didn't see my secret smile playing on my lips.

So overwhelmed with the response I'm getting with this! Thank you so much!

I apologise for the delayed update I just moved and had no internet.

Also I apologise for the lack of speech in this chapter but I hope it does not bore you.

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