Sorry for not updating – life wasn't easy in the last couple of weeks. Well, moving furniture is not a good idea while still healing – even after a year, the scar left by the abdominal surgery still hurts.
I'm trying to update more regularly again - a few chapters that will come at a later date are already finished, but the next few are just causing problems. I know where the story is going, but it's hard to get there.
Chapter 12
The day at the precinct, surrounded by people who knew her past, who knew things that Kim had forgotten, had simply been very exhausting. Again. And the evening with Kevin, when Kim had voiced her worry out loud - Kim was glad when she closed the door to her apartment behind her. It was a place she was familiar with. There were no secrets here. Everything was still okay here. Technically.
But what she saw, this chaos, reminded her once again of the biggest mistake in her life - forgetting.
Kim somehow didn't dare to tidy up this mess in her apartment, to look again at all the things she had pulled out of her cupboards. Only to be disappointed because none of these things brought back her memory. The chaos in her apartment reflected the chaos inside her.
However, it wouldn't really bring back her memory if she continued to sleep on the sofa just because her bed was full of clothes that she had torn out of her wardrobe. Just like the things she had lined up next to the bathtub – shampoos, lotions, towels, a second toothbrush - used. Or the books that were no longer on her shelf. Chaos didn't bring back what she had lost. What she thought she had lost. A memory.
Kim slowly walked into her bedroom, leaning against the doorframe and staring at her bed. Once again, she tried to imagine how she might have lain here in the arms of a man. Or how she had enjoyed hours together with a man. Making love.
A man who she at least knew hadn't been Adam Ruzek. But then who had it been? Maybe it had been her boss? Hank Voight.
In any case, Hank had denied that anything had ever happened between them. But a bit of doubt lingered in Kim's mind. Who knows, maybe there had been something? But if they had had a relationship, why wasn't Hank honest with her? Why did he lie to her? Was he ashamed of himself? No, Kim couldn't really imagine that. Her Hank would never lie to her. Her Hank was a-
Wait, her Hank. How had that thought occurred to her? Yet it had felt so right to think of him as her Hank. For a brief moment, it had felt like . . . Kim had had such a wonderful feeling for a moment - like butterflies in her stomach. It had been a good feeling. But it hadn't been a real memory. Not one that brought her closer to what she had forgotten.
Kim sighed.
She should stop trying to force herself to remember. Maybe Dr. Reese and Dr. Charles were right. At her last appointment, Dr. Charles had advised Kim to do something. Well, something he wanted her to do - to stop pushing herself to remember. After all, it could be that something had happened, something terrible, so that her brain wanted to protect her from the memory. At least that was the theory Dr. Charles had put forward.
Kim didn't know. She didn't know what had happened in the past. She only knew that she hated the uncertainty. That she hated herself for not being able to remember. And that she hated Hank a little for the fact that he was obviously keeping something from her. He was hiding something from her. What was it?
She should stop thinking and go to bed and try to sleep. In the morning, the crime of Chicago would be waiting for her again. Tomorrow she would get back to the task at hand in her life - being a cop. And later, there would be time to hunt for her memories.
Little did Kim know that she would hardly get any sleep that night - and neither would another person. Ever since Kim had been shot, ever since he had decided to lie, Hank had sought solace in alcohol. Most of the time, anyway. Especially on the nights when the bed next to him felt so empty.
Like today.