"Hello, Ellen," Caboose said calmly. "Why don't you take a seat?"
I blinked. That was the most normal thing I had ever heard him say. I tried not to stare as I sat down in front of him.
"Um…" I was speechless. "I… I'm a little confused."
He nodded seriously. "This is not unanticipated given the severity of your accident."
My eyes widened even more. Caboose had just spoken in words longer than two syllables.
"I—you're the CEO of Bingle, Ca—Mr. Caboose—right?"
"Yes. I am pleased to hear that you remember that at least. Would you like a debriefing on your reintegration to the company? Our department for the recovery of employees in accidents is excellent and will assist you in relearning your skills."
"Um… I… I don't think…."
"Ms. Church," Caboose interrupted me, frowning. "Do not speak with such a stutter. It is unprofessional."
I jumped with surprise and my face reddened. Caboose had just chastised me. And it had been… daunting. This was so, so wrong.
After Caboose told me firmly what my duties and responsibilities were, I had learned exactly what Wheatley had been talking about. This Caboose was… intelligent. His entire company was a well-oiled machine and was apparently very profitable. My "boss" was filthy rich.
I was still having a hard time comprehending all of this.
After an excruciatingly long day at work (it was difficult to concentrate amid Wheatley and Glados arguing for hours), I finally exited the building and returned to the Bingle parking lot. Just as I reached the truck, however, a figure caught my eye.
A tall figure in a suit.
It was that man again. This was the third time that I had seen him, and he still had that emotionless stare directed at me. He was making me nervous. Why didn't I recognize him? Why did I keep seeing him everywhere?
I pretended not to notice him as I unlocked my car, but I chanced a glance at him as we locked eyes. I looked away quickly, not wanting him to know that I had seen him. However, just as I entered the car, our gazes met again. He hadn't looked away from me. He was still staring and I could feel his eyes on me as I pulled out of the parking lot.
As I drove away from the man, I watched him through the rear-view mirror. He hadn't moved an inch, but I could have sworn I saw him chuckle.
My heart was pounding as I made my way up the building and to the apartment again. It was late enough, and my fiancé was probably home.
The prospect of meeting him terrified me. It was silly, but I was jittery with anxiousness to find out what he was like without the burdens the military had placed on him. I wanted to know what his personality was outside the rules and restrictions and protocol. Here, there was no way that he had a criminal record. He probably had never been to jail and was totally and completely sane.
I didn't even know what my own feelings were regarding the matter, but I avoided thinking about it. All I knew was that I wanted to simply meet him and I'd figure out the rest from there.
When I reached the apartment, I barged in.
"Hello?" I called out curiously.
I received no response. I was still alone.
"Damn it," I muttered, checking the kitchen. The note was still where I had left it and nothing had changed since I had exited the apartment. How long was I going to have to wait here?
I began hunting around the apartment more thoroughly. There were no pictures anywhere in the house of my fiancé, so that didn't help. I started searching through cabinets, looking for pieces of mail that might have his name on them. I just needed to reassure myself of his identity.
As I was digging through the recycling bin, however, I heard the door unlock and I practically ran to the entrance.
"Hey, Ellen!"
A man walked into the apartment. He wore an orange tank top and gym shorts, and he was completely ripped. Every muscle was defined in detail and he was practically bursting through his shirt. I glanced at his finger.
There was definitely a ring on his left hand.
My jaw fell open as Grif approached me.
"Holy shit!" I squealed, almost tripping and skidding on the floor. "I can't marry you!"
The smile slipped from Grif's face and he stopped. "Wh—what?"
Church entered the room from just behind Grif, smacking a palm to his forehead and looking none too pleased with me.
"Wh—this—I can't—" I was stuttering, staring at Church.
"Dexter, don't worry about this," Church reassured Grif, walking toward me. "We shouldn't be surprised that this happened. She just needs time to adjust."
I continued shaking my head. "No. I don't love him. I could never marry him!"
"Ellen, quiet down!" Church said fiercely, dragging me away from a heartbroken-looking Grif. "You're hurting his feelings!"
"Church," I retorted as we entered the kitchen. "I am not going to marry someone I don't love. That's just stupid. I have no recollection of this."
"That's because you haven't even given yourself a chance!" Church said, exasperated. "I see you. Every time I introduce something to you, you pretend like you're taking it in. You pretend like you believe me, and you act like you think this is all true. Listen to me. This is your life. You're going to have to accept that fact one way or another, so don't try to break Dex's heart while you're at it or you'll have to fix the broken pieces of your life before you even remember it's yours!"
The remark I had been dying to emit halted in my throat. There was no use fighting him. I swallowed and nodded, and he squeezed my arm gently before leading me back to Grif.
When I saw my fiancé again, I instantly felt guilty. He looked hurt and worried and hesitant as I walked toward him. There was no way in hell that I was going to marry Grif, but I could at least try not to hurt him any more than I had. When I reached him, I smiled and gave him a hug.
"Do you remember me, Ellen?" he asked worriedly, hugging me back. When the hell had Grif ever worried about anything?
"Well… yes." That wasn't a lie. I did know who he was. Just… not like this. "But… can you tell me more about yourself?"
"I'll leave you two alone," Church said. "Dex, thanks for letting me be here for this. I thought I'd need to come, and I was right." He walked over to me and spoke in a low voice. "I called in to work for you, Ellen. Tomorrow, you're coming with me instead. I'm taking you to a specialist."
I didn't have time to resist this bit of news before Church disappeared through the door, so I just glared at him before turning my attention to Grif and lightening my face so he wouldn't feel badly.
"Come on, I'll make some dinner, and then we can talk," Grif said with a smile. "Man, this place really is a mess, isn't it? I'll have to clean up a little after we eat."
I looked around the apartment, and it didn't look untidy to me. I raised an eyebrow and shrugged, following him to the kitchen.
Over dinner that night—Grif had made salad, steamed vegetables, and organic chicken, to my shock—I learned all about my fiancé. He was a physical trainer. He worked out every day and refused to eat junk food. His daily hobbies included cleaning the house until it shined and staying active.
Active.
My brain was starting to really hurt now.
That evening, once we had changed, gotten ready to sleep, and cleaned the apartment a bit, we both climbed into the bed. I tried to act normally, so I laid still as Grif drifted off.
In his slumber, Grif stretched and put an arm around me, pulling me closer to him. I didn't resist for fear of waking him up, but there was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep like this.
A horrible thought struck me as I listened to Grif snore.
What… what if all that had happened to me—my whole life—had really been a dream? Maybe this really was amnesia.
Is this really my life?