Bellamy stood in the doorway and stared at the car kicking up the dirt road in a hazy orange cloud until the taillights disappeared. Clarke's last words pounded in his head. The way I loved you. Past tense. It was over, and as hard as he'd tried to prepare himself for this day, the ache in his chest told him he'd failed.
He closed the door and collapsed on the sofa, focusing on the new gift he'd added beneath the tree. Couldn't help but laugh. He was probably the only guy in Alabama who kept buying engagement rings only to lose the woman before he got a chance to propose.
He picked up his phone and punched in her number. It rang several times, then went to voicemail. "Clarke, you should at least hear my side of the story. You owe me that. Once you've heard the circumstances, if you never want to see me again, I'll accept your decision. Please call me."
Once she cooled off and thought things through, she'd give him a chance to explain. Had to. At least he didn't have to worry about her running into Finn's arms. Not until she remembered him, anyway. If she did. If luck was on Bellamy's side, she wouldn't. What was he thinking? This was the worst bad luck day he'd had in a while.
He punched in her number again. One ring this time, then silence. She'd blocked him. He understood. She needed time to sort through things. He could give her that, but considering her injuries, someone needed to check on her. Best choice. Octavia.
After explaining the situation to his sister, she agreed after pestering him for a hour for details. Maybe Clarke's injuries weren't serious, but the bruising looked awful. Bellamy would feel better if she saw a doctor. Especially after this accident coming on the heels of her recent head trauma.
He flipped on the television, and the first thing he heard got his attention. Over 260,000 residents were without electricity in the Santa Barbara area. There was his solution. Leave Rebel with Mom and Octavia, then head to California. That should give her all the time she needed to sort things through, and keep his mind off the chance he'd lost her forever.
An hour later, Bellamy swung his truck into Mom's drive. By the time he unloaded all the supplies for ebel, Octavia sauntered out of the garage to help him carry everything inside.
"Are you sure this is a good idea? Running away will only put this Finn dude at an advantage."
Bellamy passed her, taking the dog crate into the laundry room as he spoke over his shoulder. "No reason for me to stay. It's only a matter of time before she remembers everything, and when she does, she'll choose him." He turned to face her and sighed. "I don't want to be here when that happens."
Octavia put her hand on her hip. "You don't know that."
Bellamy raked his hands through his hair. Compared to Finn, he didn't really have anything to offer. "You didn't see him, O. He's about as opposite from me as you can get. He's basically a boy band type with a sports car. And I lied to her. I don't stand a chance in hell." He fell into the the armchair in the den. "She's done with me, and I have no one to blame but myself."
"At least wait a few days, Bell. She might forgive you."
He shook his head, staring down at his hands clasped together. "No. It's better this way."
As soon as Clarke saw Bellamy's number, she let it go straight to voicemail. After listening to his message, she pulled to the side of the road and blocked him along with everyone else in her family. The last thing she wanted was to talk to anyone who'd been a part of the scheme. An explanation wasn't necessary. She remembered the conversation in the hospital and how she'd locked lips with him the minute she saw him. This was her fault. At least most of it. She'd been convinced Bellamy was her boyfriend. How could her brain play such a dirty trick and why couldn't she remember Finn? And why had he not shown up until now? So many questions, but the biggest one was her identity.
In Atlanta, she had been a different person. Dead end job. Drab clothes. Boring life. Bellamy was right about one thing. For the last few weeks, she'd been happy. But none of it had been real. Except for her feelings for him. Or had they? Had she transferred the relationship from one man to the other?
She pounded the palm of her hand against her forehead. Why couldn't she remember? If her relationship had been so great with Finn, why would she replace him with a stranger? She needed time to get things straight in her mind. She leaned her head on the steering wheel and sobbed. The crazy thing was she didn't know what she was crying about. The lies? Bellamy? Finn? She felt as if she'd been split open and everything scooped clean, leaving nothing but empty space. Thank goodness Gustus and Artigas scheduled vacation during Christmas. Between the bruising and her hollow heart, she didn't feel like entertaining anyone.
She wiped at her eyes and pulled back onto the highway. Ten minutes later, she parked in the alley behind the bar and shuffled in through the kitchen. Artigas glanced up from stacking plates on a shelf, then rushed to her.
"Oh, my God! What happened to your face?"
His excitement got Gustus' attention, and he came to join them. He raked her hair back and eyed the damage. "We're waiting for an answer. What happened?"
"I fell," she deadpanned.
He knit his brows together. "Are you sure?"
She shook her head so fast a wave of dizziness clouded her head. "Oh, it's not like that. Bellamy would never hurt me. Physically." She had to add that last part because he had hurt her. More than she could say. More than she ever remembered. "I really did fall. During my walk with Rebel, a car got a bit too close."
Gustus stepped back. "I wasn't thinking Bellamy. Some guy came in asking about you, and I got a bad vibe."
"Really? What did he look like?"
"Dark hair. Tall. Clean cut. City boy type."
Finn.
Artigas eyed the duffle. "Why do you have your bag? Bellamy leave town again?"
Clarke's bottom lip trembled. "No. We had an argument. I need to stay here for a few days. If that's okay?"
"Sweetie, the room is yours anytime you want it. For as long as you need it. Have you eaten? How about a bowl of soup?"
Clarke ran her hand across her stomach. She was hungry but didn't think she could keep anything down. "No. Maybe just a cup of hot chocolate."
"Coming right up. You go get settled, and I'll bring it to you."
As soon as Clarke got inside her bedroom, she stripped off her clothes and put on her pajamas, then crawled beneath the covers. Thoughts swirled in her brain like a Texas dust devil. The way she'd acted with Bellamy. Things she'd done. The way she'd gone after him—a complete stranger. Oh God, what he must think of her!
"Clarke? I have your chocolate. May I come in?" Artigas eased open the door before waiting for an answer.
Clarke sat up, stuffed pillows behind her back, and took the cup offered. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it. You want to talk about it? I'm sure the argument can be settled."
Clarke tried not to cry but failed. Tears flooded down her cheeks. "I can't. I'm sorry. I don't know why I can't stop crying."
Artigas sat on the edge of the bed and patted Clarke's leg. "Oh, sweetie. Love can turn us inside out, but whatever it is, I know you and Bellamy can resolve it because if two people were ever meant for each other, it's the two of you."
Clarke set the cup on the side table and sobbed into her hands. An hour ago, she would have agreed. He was everything she wanted. She had opened herself up and laid her heart and soul out bare for him, and it hurt.
Artigas didn't say anything for a few minutes, then offered probably the only thing she could think of. "Tell me what I can do to make things better."
Wiping her eyes, Clarke shook her head. "I'll be okay. Thanks for the hot chocolate."
"You're welcome. If you need us, we'll be in the kitchen taking inventory. We want to get that out of the way before Christmas, then we won't have it staring us in the face when we open on New Year's Eve."
Once Artigas left, Clarke curled into a ball and tried to relax, but every position created a problem. If she got her shoulder eased, then her hip hurt. Shifting to relieve it, her ribs screamed in torture. At this rate, she'd have to stand to sleep. After switching from one side to the other, she pushed pillows under the most severe pressure points and finally drifted into dreamland.
On Christmas morning, Clarke came out of her room for the first time since arriving at the bar. She'd spent the last two days trying to make sense of everything. Finn was still a stranger. The harder she tried to remember him, the more frustrated she got, which made her question their relationship even more.
Gustus stood behind the bar restocking shelves and whistling Jingle Bells. Clarke slid onto a stool, and he turned to face her. "Well, thank goodness and Merry Christmas. I was giving you until noon today before I stormed into your room to make sure you were still alive!" He moved closer, cupped her chin, and turned her head for a better look. "You look a mess. Puffy eyes and this cut isn't much better. Putting anything on it?"
"No."
"Needs some antibiotic ointment. Here, let me get some." He strolled to the end of the bar, opened a drawer, and returned with a tube. After washing his hands, he squirted a dab onto his finger then rubbed it across the three-inch scrape just above her eye stretching down to her temple. "Probably needs a bandage to keep the ointment on, but this will do for now."
"Thanks."
"Want something to drink? Water, milk, tea, shot of whiskey?"
She almost smiled but Gustus' concern reminded her of Bellamy's kindness and her heart squeezed. "No, thanks."
"You need to eat something, baby girl. You've barely had more than a few crackers, hot chocolate, and marshmallows since you got here."
"I don't think I can keep anything down." She rested her arm on the bar and laid her head on it.
Gustus lowered his voice. "Why don't you tell me what's going on. Maybe I can help fix it."
She spoke into the wood. "He lied to me."
"For whose benefit?"
She rolled her head to one side and looked up. "What does that mean?"
"Did he gain anything from it, or was it to help someone?"
"Oh," she paused, considering. "I guess the latter."
"Ah, a tender lie."
"Nothing feels tender about it. And, he's not the only one. Everyone I care about has lied to me."
"What would have changed if they hadn't?"
She took a second to think about that. It was a question she'd not considered. "Everything."
Gustus rested his arms on the bar and leaned closer. "Let me get this straight. You wouldn't be in Arkadia—with a man who adores you—performing for fans who love you. That sound about right?"
"I'm not sure Bellamy adores me. Any man who did probably wouldn't lie over and over again."
"You'd be surprised what a man will do to keep from losing the woman he loves. And he's not the only one. You have plenty of people who love you, or they wouldn't be calling every day."
She jerked her head up and placed her hand on the pain shooting up her side. "Bellamy called?"
"No, he probably doesn't have cell service, but Mr Kane and Wells Jaha have. Octavia, too. I figure Rebel would call if he could."
That got a laugh from her which made her ribs hurt worse. "He's the only innocent party in this situation." Half the town had lied to her. But she couldn't be angry with lies of omission. They didn't really know Clarke, at least not like they knew Bellamy. If she was being entirely honest with herself, she had already forgiven Bellamy. Their families, too. Now that she knew, she recalled all the times everyone had tried to tell her as little as possible so they wouldn't really be lying. It hurt, but they meant well, and wanted her to recover.
"Octavia said to tell you she'd bring him for a visit if you wanted. Or, since Bellamy is gone, you could stay at the house."
A knot formed in her throat. "Gone? Where?"
"California. Helping restore power after the wildfires. That's the reason he can't call."
"Oh, I thought you meant because I'd blocked his number. Why would he leave and miss Christmas with his family?"
"Guess that didn't matter. Speaking of Christmas, why don't you have dinner with us? Artigas' parents and my mom will join us, but we'd love to include you."
She shook her head and hissed at the spike of pain running up her spine. "No, thanks. I don't have much holiday spirit."
He reached out to help her straighten. "Okay, here's the deal. I can tell by the way you grimace every time you move your injuries are worse than you're letting on. So tomorrow, you'll go to the doctor even if I have to hogtie you and drive you there in the bed of my truck. Understand?"
She couldn't argue because he was right. The pain wasn't improving, and neither was the crying. "Okay." Before she could say anything else, someone tapped on the front door. Clarke couldn't help but smile as Gustus flipped the lock and let Octavia and Rebel inside. The dog broke free and ran to her. Fighting the pain, she attempted to stoop to his level but couldn't. She sat back on the stool and scratched behind his ears. "I'm sorry, boy. This is the best I can do right now." Then she turned her attention to Octavia. "Thank you for bringing him."
"You're welcome. I started to wait for you to call, but hey, if I'd stayed home, I'd have to help cook and believe me, Raven in the kitchen is already deadly. She tried to take apart the oven since she believes she can make it cook twice as fast. Roan had to restrain her before Mom got ahold of her for taking apart her kitchen." She smirked, then narrowed her eyes. "I don't want to be rude, but you don't look so good. Are you okay?"
Even the happiness of seeing Rebel didn't stop Clarke from crying. God, she hated herself for being such a crybaby, but tears came without warning. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Gustus appeared behind the bar again and dropped a box of tissue in front of her without a word before disappearing to the kitchen. "No. I keep telling myself to just get over it. I should be used to people lying to me. I've never dated a someone who hasn't, but this is different. My Mom. Marcus. Lincoln. Wells. My whole family." She sniffed, then focused on Octavia. "Even you, right?"
Octavia hiked her hip onto the next stool. "Look, it was only supposed to be for two weeks then you'd go back to Atlanta, memory or no memory. But by that time, just like Bell, we'd all fallen in love with you. Then the way you helped Mom with the baking contest. How you were with Lina." A tear rolled down Octavia's cheek, and she swiped it with the back of her had. "But most of all, for the first time in years, my brother was happy. Really happy. And you did that. I didn't want it to go away, and I didn't want to lose your friendship because I felt like you were the only one who understood how I love Lincoln."
Clarke started to speak, but Octavia held up her hand. "No, let me finish. I have no excuse other than I was selfish. We all were. Maybe for different reasons, but still, it was at your expense, and I'm sorry. I just hope someday you can forgive me because I intend to marry your cousin and we're going to be family whether or not things work out between you and Bellamy or not."
Clarke didn't know what to say. The thought of things not working out with Bellamy caused a wave of nausea to churn in her stomach. "I appreciate you bringing Rebel. And, I'm not mad at you, Octavia. Or your mom or anyone in your family."
"Even Bellamy?"
"Yeah. Even him. Right now, I'm not sure what I'm feeling. Other than being sick to my stomach, and my body hurting from head to toe, my emotions have been numb for the last couple of days. I'm just… I'm mad at myself. I mean, I see now all the times he tried to actually help me get my memory back, and oh, God, how many times he tried to stop me when I tried to jump him." Her cheeks lit up at the embarrassment.
Octavia mimed gagging. "I don't need to hear about my brothers sex life. Please." She pursed her lips. "Maybe who you are now is who you've always been, or meant to be. It just never surfaced until after your wreck. I don't know how you were before, but it couldn't be that much different. It just seems to be a case of confidence you have now, there's nothing wrong with that. From what I've heard from Lincoln, you're still the same person at the core of it all."
"Maybe," she smiled weakly, grabbing a couple kleenex from the cardboard and dabbing her cheeks. It was hard for her coming to resolution of who she used to be and who she had become.
"I can't even understand why I'm crying so much. But I'm going to the doctor tomorrow, so maybe he can get me back to my old self—whoever that is."
Octavia placed her palm over Clarke's. "I'll take you. Okay?"
"I can go by myself."
"No. I want to do it. Maybe when you're done, we could drive to Polis. Check out some of the after-Christmas sales. Might do you good to get out for a while." She bit her lip, considering. "Or, you could come home with me now and see everyone."
Clarke slid off the stool, stood next to it, and pointed to the fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. "Since I can't control these, probably not a good idea. But, I agree to let you chauffeur me to the doctor."
Octavia leaned in for a hug. "Okay. Text you later." She reached for Rebel's leash.
Clarke looked down at the dog and rubbed his head. "It won't be long until I'm back to normal and then we'll play again. Okay?"
He wagged his tail and nuzzled her hand.
Then she looked back to Octavia. "Gustus said Bellamy is working in California, so I might stay at the house for the next few days."
"Sure. I'll help get you settled after your appointment. I know Rebel will be glad to get home."
"Yeah, me too." Home. Funny, with everything that had happened, Clarke still thought of it that way.
The alarm beeped, and Bellamy wanted to hit the snooze button again, but by the time he ate breakfast and traveled thirty miles to the burn site, he'd be late. Staring into the darkness, he thought of Clarke. This was the only time he permitted himself to think about her. Once he got to work, he needed to be clear-headed.
According to the phone crews, if things went well, cell service should be restored by the end of the day in this area. Once it was, he hoped like hell there'd be a call waiting from her. Who was he kidding? By blocking his number, she'd made it clear talking to him was the last thing she wanted. By now, she might remember Finn and be headed back to Atlanta. No, she couldn't do that because of her performance contract, unless Gustus agreed to let her out of it. Knowing him, he would if she asked.
Bellamy sat up on the edge of the bed and raked his fingers through his hair. Only four days into his two-week commitment. Not enough time to mend his broken heart, but enough to prepare himself to an empty home. Before he left, he had stood in the doorway for the longest time, just staring out into the darkened living room. His house had never really felt like a home until Clarke moved in. His dwelling had been bare, his toothbrush solitary. He missed the random bobby pins that collected around the sink, and her clothes in his closet. His heart had found a home in Clarke, and the silence without her made the place deafening.
With a curse, he ran his hands over his face and wondered how long he'd give himself this daily pep-talk before he admitted to drowning in misery? He'd always considered himself a patient man, but when it came to her, that virtue was the first to go. The way I loved you. Those damn words rung in his ears like lyrics of a bad rap song. If she had loved him, then how could she stop as if she'd flipped a switch? One minute declaring the depth of her feelings and the next driving away. It made no sense. Regardless of her amnesia, if she admitted it or not, what happened between them had been real.
It had taken a while for him to figure it out, but the way she looked at him—touched him. None of that was fake. But was love enough? It didn't save Roma, so it might not salvage his relationship with Clarke. Did he still have a chance? A future? He wanted answers. Needed answers.
If she'd just give him ten minutes to explain—remind her of how he'd tried to keep his distance. Avoided getting intimate. Get her to see the situation from his perspective. If she could see beyond that one big lie, then maybe she could forgive him. But dammit! For that to happen, she had to be willing to talk to him. He shook his head, dragged his way to the bathroom, and turned on the shower. No reason to torture himself anymore, it was over.
Clarke spent most of Christmas day watching sappy holiday movies. Bad mistake. They only fueled more tears. She thought after days of crying the waterworks would stop, but every puppy dog, soda, and Subaru commercial had something in them she found weep-worthy. At least her appetite had returned. Well, it had always been there. She'd been hungry, but the thought of food made her sick. What an evil trick of physiology—when craving her favorites turned her stomach. She'd done her best to overcome that. Right along with the sentimental flicks, she'd binged on junk food, only to puke later. That's what she got for mixing popcorn, moon pies, and jelly beans.
A dozen times she'd compose a text to Bellamy, only to delete it. With over fifteen hundred miles between them, it wouldn't do any good to say how much she needed the comfort of his arms. She considered Facetime. But with the way she looked, not a good idea. No, until she had her head straight, better to leave things as they were. Any day now, she could remember Finn, and that might change everything. Especially if she was in love with him.
She stared at the ceiling, then glanced at the clock. Two hours before her doctor's appointment. Plenty of time to get ready. She'd not heard any activity in the bar, so Gustus and Artigas were probably sleeping in. Well deserved. They worked hard, and since she'd been performing, the crowds had grown to the point they needed to hire extra help.
Sliding to the edge of the bed, Clarke held her breath, then swung her feet to the floor. For the first time in days, she didn't feel much pain. A good sign. Hopefully, by the time the bar reopened, she'd be as good as new. Since it hurt to get in and out of the tub, showers had become her new best friend. She made her way to the bathroom and kneeled to rotate the spigot. Lord, she longed for the day she could soak again and wash her hair.
If Bellamy were here, he'd solve that problem. Damn! Why couldn't she stop thinking about him? Easy answer. In spite of everything, she still loved him. At least she thought she did. Or did she love him because she thought he was Finn? Or, did Arkadia Clarke love one man and Atlanta Clarke love the other? Without her full memory, she couldn't be sure who she was or which man she loved.
She massaged her throbbing temples. All the confusing thoughts brought on another surge of nausea. Since she'd not eaten anything, at least she wouldn't vomit. She was losing her mind. She'd have to go back into therapy. Today, at her appointment, she'd ask Dr. Nyko for a recommendation. A psychiatrist could explain if the love she felt for Bellamy was real or imagined. Sure felt real. Heart-stopping, blood-boiling, body-shaking real.
She took her bottom lip between her teeth. Adrenaline surged through her like an electric current spreading heated arousal from her face to her toes. She closed her eyes—drew a long breath in through her nose, then released a whispered oh. This was crazy. Even with the pain and queasiness, the mere thought of him turned her on. She really was losing her sanity. Yep. Head doctor, here I come.
A half hour later, when Gustus called Clarke into the bar, she found Monty waiting instead of Octavia.
"What are you doing here? I thought Octavia was taking me to the doctor."
He widened his eyes. "She got up sick this morning. Puking her guts up. Too much Christmas turkey, I guess, and Raven was up half the night with Charlie. Anyway, I volunteered to fill in for her. You ready to go?"
"Yeah, and once I'm done with the doctor, I thought I'd stop by the children's ward if you have time. It's a shame they have to be in the hospital during the holidays. Maybe some silly songs will brighten their day." Clarke pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed a stray tear. She'd have to get those under control if she expected to cheer up other people. "Let's stop at the Quick Mart so I can get some candy canes."
Monty smacked his lips. "Great idea. I wouldn't mind having one myself."
Upon arrival at the hospital, Clarke learned her appointment would be delayed due to an emergency, so she visited the children first. Seeing their faces light up and eagerness to sing along lifted her spirit. By the time the nurse called her, she felt like she might not need that shrink after all.
An hour later, Dr. Nyko ran his fingers down Clarke's ribs. "Well, I guess I don't have to ask if that hurts. Your reaction says it does."
"I know. I keep hoping it'll get better, but so far, not much improvement."
He pressed his fingers against her shoulder, then cupped her upper arm and gave it a slight rotation. "Don't think anything is broken here. Lie back and roll to your side and let me get a look at your hip."
She complied with a groan.
He spread the gown and applied pressure in different spots. "We all missed you yesterday at Aurora's, especially your godfather."
"I know. I'm just not ready to talk to him yet." Without warning, she burst into tears. "I'm sorry."
He took her hand and helped her sit up. "It's okay. Better to cry than hold all the emotion inside."
She gritted her teeth with the movement. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm hungry, but the thought of food makes me sick. I want to talk to Bellamy, but yet, I don't. I just want to crawl into bed and stay there. The only thing that's made me feel halfway normal was seeing the kids. I mean, I should be ashamed because they're sick at Christmas time, and I'm having a pity-party."
"You've been through a lot the past few months. You're still healing both physically and emotionally. You have a lot to come to terms with. Forgiveness isn't easy."
Clarke clutched the edge of the exam table. "It's not even about the lies anymore. It's more about discovering who I am—the person before or after the accident. I have to figure that out to understand everything else. Does that make sense? Or, am I losing my mind?"
He chuckled. "Psychiatry isn't my field, but considering these past few weeks, I'd say it's perfectly normal for you to feel this way after such a life change. Probably intensified by Christmas. It's hard enough to deal with disappointment on a good day, but the holidays are especially difficult. On a personal note, from what I saw between you and Bellamy seemed like love."
Like a bolt of lightning, the meaningless words landed in her brain with such force, she jerked her head toward Nyko. "What'd you say?"
"You and Bellamy. Seemed like the real thing."
She put her hands to her temples and pressed as a barrade of random images slammed into her mind with dizzying accuracy. "Oh, my God. Finn. I remember. Everything. And I don't love him."
"You don't?"
"No. He cheated. I caught him." She widened her eyes. "Oh, my God! I caught him in the act. At his office." She pressed her hand to her throat. "On his desk. I'm going to be sick."
The nurse grabbed a pan and shoved it beneath Clarke's chin.
She heaved and puked up the candy cane she'd eaten earlier.
Nyko moved back to her side. "Are you okay? Mel, get a wet cloth."
The nurse went to the sink, returned, and pressed the small towel to Clarke's head.
Mel smirked. "What a jerk and how cliché. Having sex on his desk with his secretary."
"She wasn't his secretary."
The nurse took the cloth from Clarke's face and refolded it, then held it against her forehead. "Is that better? Do you feel like you're going to vomit more?"
"No. I'm okay. Now I know why I left Atlanta. To get away from Finn."
Dr. Nyko placed his hand on her back. "Do you remember why you came here? To Arkadia?
Clarke bowed her head, then looked up again. "I got lost. I didn't know where I was. I just wanted to get away from him."
"Finn is the last piece to the puzzle?"
"Yes. I mean, I still have questions—like if he was cheating, clearly he didn't love me, so why is he even here?"
Mel stepped back. "Maybe he just did it the one time and wants forgiveness."
Clarke swallowed hard to choke back the bile. "No. The conversation I heard proved it had been going on for a while. Probably from the beginning which would explain a lot."
"As you know, all the memories concerning him might not come back right away," Nyko said. "It could take days or months. My best advice is not to force them. In the meantime, we need to get a picture of those ribs. Mel will take you to x-ray. Okay?"
Clarke nodded.
The nurse picked up a clipboard and flipped through her chart. "Any chance you're pregnant?"
She shook her head. "Not if the IUD has done its job."
Nyko stopped in the doorway and spun around to face Clarke. "Have you seen another doctor since your accident?"
"No. Just you. Why?"
He cocked his head. "Then, your symptoms might not be related to this last incident. Clarke, you don't have an IUD."
okay but who expected that? ;P
next chapters gonna be crazy. be sure to tell me how you liked this one. I'll def need positive reinforcement since I've got court all this week (suuuuuuck fest).
hopefully this stupid two week break crap is over since we're apparently getting a new episode tomorrow.