Flashbacks
Tori
"You remember," I blurted out, my voice trembling with a mix of shock and relief.
Jade winced, pressing her fingers against her temples as if my words were physically painful. I instantly regretted shouting and rushed to her side, gently guiding her out of the bathroom and back into the restaurant. Her face was pale, her steps unsteady, and I could tell she was on the edge of something big—a flood of memories, maybe, or another wave of that crushing headache.
When we got back to the booth, everyone was still there—Sam, Cat, Andre, Beck, Robbie—and they all turned to look at us as if we were the evening's entertainment. I could feel the weight of their stares, the questions burning in their eyes. It was only a matter of time before the barrage began.
"What the hell's going on?" Sam demanded, her eyes darting between us.
"Are you guys together now?" Cat asked, her voice full of innocent curiosity.
Andre added, "Is everything okay with you two?"
The questions came at us all at once, and I could feel the pressure building in Jade, like a volcano about to erupt. Her breath quickened, her body tensing beside me, and then it happened—she snapped.
"Shut the fuck up!" Jade shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. The entire restaurant went dead silent, our friends looking at her with a mix of shock and concern. Jade's hand pressed harder against her head, her eyes squeezed shut as if trying to block out everything around her.
"Guys, please," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and steady. "Jade has amnesia. She's remembering things, but it's… it's hard for her. Just give her some space."
The air in the restaurant was thick with tension, and then Beck, who'd been glaring at me since we walked back in, finally spoke up. "Tori, are you sure you didn't take advantage of her condition? You two weren't together before, and now suddenly you are, right when she's most vulnerable?"
His words were like a punch to the gut, and I opened my mouth to defend myself, but nothing came out. I didn't know what to say because, in some ways, I'd been asking myself the same thing. But I knew—I *knew*—I hadn't meant for any of this to happen like it did.
Just as I was about to stammer out a response, Jade stepped forward, her voice cutting through the silence again. "I didn't tell her I had amnesia until today, Beck."
He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I didn't know it was amnesia, but I knew something was off the minute I saw you two together."
Jade turned to face him fully, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, you're so insightful, aren't you? If you knew me so well, how come you didn't see that I was going to dump your ass the second we graduated?"
Beck's face went from smug to wounded in an instant, and I could feel the tension radiating off him. He didn't say anything, just stood there, stunned by her words. The rest of the group shifted uncomfortably, clearly not sure how to react.
I didn't wait for things to escalate further. I could see that Jade was on the verge of breaking down again, her face contorting with pain, and I knew we needed to get out of there. I reached for her hand and gently pulled her toward the door.
"Come on, let's get you home," I whispered, trying to keep my voice soothing, even though my heart was racing.
Jade didn't resist, just let me lead her away from the noise, the questions, the tension that seemed to thicken the air around us. Once we were outside, I helped her into the car, my hands shaking as I buckled her in. She leaned back against the seat, her eyes shut tight, as if trying to block out the world.
I got into the driver's seat and started the car, glancing over at her as I pulled away from the curb. "I'm taking you to your mom's," I said softly, hoping it would be the right thing to do.
Jade didn't respond, just nodded weakly, her head resting against the window. I could see how much pain she was in, and it made my chest ache. I just wanted to help her, to make everything better, but I had no idea how to fix this. I had no idea if it could even be fixed.
As I drove, I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened. The confrontation, the way Beck had looked at me, the way Jade had defended herself, and me. And then there was the way she had suddenly remembered something so specific, so painful. It was like pieces of her were coming back to her, but it was happening so fast, too fast.
I stole a glance at her again, her face still contorted in discomfort. I wished I could take the pain away, wished I could make her whole again. But all I could do was keep driving, hoping that somehow, someway, we'd find our way through this—together.
Jade
The pain was unbearable. It felt like someone was drilling into my skull while my stomach churned violently. I was doubled over in the front seat, clutching my middle as if that would somehow make it better. I could feel the sweat on my forehead, cold and sticky, and all I wanted was to be home. Or maybe just have my mom hold me like when I was little and everything was simpler.
Tori kept the car quiet, the silence broken only by the sound of the tires on the road. I was grateful for that; even the thought of noise made me feel worse. She was focused, her hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping us on the road.
I tried to find some relief by talking, my voice small and weak. "Tori… do you have any idea how long I've been in love with you?"
She shook her head, eyes still on the road. I could tell she didn't have a clue. How could she? I never made it obvious. I never allowed myself to. But right now, with the pain making everything else seem distant and blurry, I just needed to say it.
"Since the day you brought Anya around and came out to us," I whispered. "It was like… it opened my eyes to the possibility that the animosity I felt was more." A sharp wave of pain hit me, cutting off my words and forcing a groan from my lips.
"Pull over," I gasped. I couldn't hold it in anymore.
Tori immediately swerved to the side of the road, her movements quick but controlled. The moment the car stopped, I shoved the door open and leaned out, retching onto the asphalt. The heaving was brutal, each spasm making the pain in my head and stomach worse. Tears stung my eyes, and I felt completely out of control, as if my body was punishing me for daring to feel something as simple as love.
I heard Tori get out of the car, the soft click of the trunk opening. She came around and handed me a bottle of water, her face a mixture of concern and sadness. I took it with trembling hands, rinsing my mouth out before taking a deep swallow. The coolness of the water was a relief, even if only temporary.
I wanted to say something, to thank her or maybe apologize for being such a mess, but I couldn't find the words. I just watched her as she got back in the car, her frown deepening. She was trying so hard to be strong, to take care of me, and I hated that I was making her do this.
Finally, we pulled up to my house, the familiar sight of it making me feel a strange mix of relief and dread. I stared at the keys in Tori's hand, trying to focus through the haze of pain and nausea. But they all looked the same to me. I couldn't tell her which one was for the house.
"Just… ring the bell," I muttered, my voice hoarse.
Tori did, and the moment the door opened, I practically collapsed into my mom's arms. Her warmth, her familiar scent, made me feel like a little kid again, seeking comfort in a world that suddenly felt too big and too scary.
"She's having waves of memories," I heard Tori explain, her voice sounding distant. "And she has a migraine because of it."
My mom's arms tightened around me, and I could feel her worry even as she tried to stay calm. She looked at Tori, then at me, before gently easing me back into Tori's arms.
"Take her to her room, sweetheart," my mom said softly. "I'll be there in a minute."
Tori nodded, guiding me down the hallway like I was made of glass. Each step felt like I was walking through mud, my legs heavy and unsteady. The pain pulsed in my head, making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the burning need to just lie down and make it all go away.
When we finally reached my room, Tori helped me onto the bed, and I curled up into a ball, clutching my pillow like it was a lifeline. I was so tired, so worn out, and all I could think was that I just wanted it to stop.
Tori was so gentle with me, like I was something precious that might break if she wasn't careful. She knelt beside the bed, her fingers working at the laces of my shoes, slipping them off one at a time. Even that small relief felt like a blessing, the tightness around my feet gone, but the pain in my head still throbbed, relentless and cruel.
Next came my clothes. The fabric felt like it was suffocating me, each breath pushing against the constriction. Tori's hands were warm as she carefully pulled my shirt over my head, then unbuttoned my jeans, sliding them off my legs. I should've felt self-conscious, maybe even embarrassed, but all I felt was gratitude—gratitude that she was here, that she cared enough to help me when I couldn't do it myself.
She tried to help me into pajamas, holding them up like a peace offering. But I couldn't even think about that. The idea of moving more, of sitting up, seemed impossible. The only thing I wanted, the only thing that mattered, was for her to hold me.
"Tori," I whispered, my voice shaky. "Just… just hold me."
There was no hesitation. She dropped the pajamas onto the floor and climbed into bed beside me. The mattress dipped under her weight, and then she was there, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me close. The warmth of her body against mine, the steady rhythm of her breathing, it was all I needed.
She held me tight, her arms like a shield against the world, and slowly, so slowly, she began to rock me. It was such a simple motion, but it soothed the storm inside me, made it a little easier to breathe. I could feel her lips press against my forehead, soft and lingering, like she was trying to kiss the pain away. And in that moment, it felt like she could.
I let my eyes drift shut, focusing on the sensation of being in her arms, on the way her hand gently stroked my hair, the way she whispered reassurances that I couldn't quite make out. But I didn't need to hear the words to know what she meant. She was here. She wasn't going anywhere. And that was enough.
As I lay there, wrapped up in Tori, something clicked into place inside me. It was like a light had been switched on, illuminating all the dark corners of my mind that had been shrouded in confusion. There was no doubt left, no hesitation, no fear. What I felt for her… it was love. It had always been love. And in this moment, I let that love be my anchor, the thing that held me steady while everything else spun out of control.
I buried my face in her neck, breathing in her scent, and let myself relax fully into her embrace. The pain was still there, lurking in the background, but it didn't feel so overwhelming now. Not with Tori here, not with the knowledge that she loved me too. I didn't have to remember everything right now. I didn't need all the pieces of the puzzle to be in place. All I needed was this—Tori and the love I had for her. It was enough.
It was everything.
Tori
As I held Jade in my arms, feeling her slow breaths against my chest, I barely noticed the door creak open. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Dr. West—Kat—step into the room. I didn't know Jade's mom all that well, and I definitely hadn't expected her to find me like this, cradling her half-naked daughter, trying to soothe her to sleep. I froze, unsure of what to say or do. The last thing I wanted was to out Jade before she was ready, to cause her any more stress than she was already dealing with.
But then Dr. West looked at me, really looked at me, and something in her expression softened. "So you're the reason she came out to me last year," she said quietly, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. I blinked, processing her words, trying to figure out if she was mad or… relieved?
"I—uh—" I stammered, caught off guard. My heart was pounding in my chest as I searched her face for any sign of anger or disapproval, but there was none.
She moved closer, setting down a glass of water and a bottle of pills on the nightstand. "I never thought I'd actually see her with anyone but Beck," she said, her voice almost wistful, as if she were reminiscing about something long past. There was no malice in her words, just a kind of acceptance.
I glanced down at Jade, her face peaceful despite the pain she'd been in just moments ago. "We need to wake her," Dr. West said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Has she eaten?"
"Barely," I admitted, my voice soft. "We had an eventful dinner…" I trailed off, thinking about how everything had gone so wrong so fast. The memory of Anya storming off was still fresh, and I felt a pang of guilt, but also a strange sense of clarity. This—being here with Jade, taking care of her—this was where I was meant to be.
Dr. West leaned over and gently shook Jade awake, her touch tender and full of a mother's love. I slipped out from under Jade, trying not to disturb her too much, and started gathering her shoes and clothes that were scattered around the room. As I did, Dr. West looked over at me, her eyes full of something I couldn't quite place—gratitude, maybe? Or understanding?
"She's going to need you tonight, if you can stay," she said, her tone leaving no room for doubt. I nodded, my heart swelling with a strange mix of responsibility and something much deeper. I tucked Jade's shoes neatly under the desk and draped my jacket over the chair. There was a calmness in Dr. West's voice that put me at ease, like she understood how much I cared for her daughter, even if she didn't know the whole story.
I watched as Dr. West took care of Jade, handing her a glass of water and coaxing her to take the pain meds. It was clear that this was routine for them—Dr. West knew exactly how to comfort Jade, how to ease her back into a semblance of normalcy. But there was something else too, something that passed between us unspoken. A kind of acknowledgment that the comfort I was giving Jade, the way I was holding her, was exactly what she needed right now.
When Dr. West finally stood to leave, she didn't ask me any probing questions or give me any stern warnings. Instead, she just looked at me, a small smile on her lips. "Thank you," she said softly, and then she walked out, closing the door firmly behind her.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I'd never spent time alone with Dr. West before, and definitely not like this. Not as Jade's girlfriend. The word felt strange, new, like something I wasn't sure I had the right to claim yet. But as I looked down at Jade, who was curled up on the bed, her breathing already evening out as she drifted off again, I felt a surge of protectiveness wash over me. This was exactly where I was meant to be, and I couldn't bring myself to regret anything, not even the way things had ended with Anya.
I glanced at the pajamas that Jade hadn't wanted to wear earlier and decided to slip into them myself. The fabric was soft and comforting against my skin, a reminder of the woman I was here for. I climbed back into bed beside her, and almost immediately, Jade shifted in her sleep, wrapping herself around me like I was her anchor.
As I held her close, her head resting on my chest, I knew without a doubt that this was right. I wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring, or how we would navigate the complexities of what we'd started. But right now, in this moment, I was exactly where I needed to be, with the person I needed to be with. And that was enough.
