After what I did to him as a child, I always hoped he would hate me. It’s easier. But I'm not sure he knows about my role in his capture. In those years of isolation. That is why I hate Liz and why we buried her. For closure.
I am Blesk. I want to move on as if she'd never existed, wishing the guilt would disappear with her and with him but here he is. With his warm chest pressed against my back, his scent all around me, and his face nuzzled in my hair.
He doesn't hate you.
“Blesk?” He moves. When I turn around to peer up at him, I find him leaning on his elbow and staring down at me.
My breath catches. His eyes are sleepy and stunning. “Baby, shit,” he sighs. “I thought I dreamt yesterday.” He searches my face, and I search his. The adrenaline is gone, and I’ve found a memory that was missing.
“Say something, Blesk.”
My mouth moves. I want to say, ‘Hi. Have you had a good life? How was your first day of school? Did you enjoy your high school graduation ball? Did you ever learn to waltz? Were you popular? Was your second kiss as beautiful as your first? How many girls have fallen head-over-heels in love with you? And... I’m sorry.’ All I can manage is, “Morning.”
“Good morning.” He sighs with relief. “Do you like coffee?” He stares at me as if that question has been swirling around in his mind incessantly. “Do you eat bacon?” His voice pitches higher with excitement. “Or eggs? I just have to know. I want to know everything. You like fruit, I remember that. Do you want pancakes? Bacon on pancakes? Blesk, I will make you fucking pancakes if you want, or waffles or?—”
“Konnor.” I hold my hand up to his silly smile and can’t help but grin back at him. “I like coffee.”
He exhales hard. “I like coffee, too. Coffee it is. How do you like your coffee?”
“Black, no sugar."
When he rolls off the bed and walks towards the kitchen, I sit up and try to remember how to breathe. I don’t want to lie to him. What I want is time… Can I ask him for time? To think. I shake my head back and forth as if to say 'no' to the universe. No. This is all wrong.
Breathing hard, my eyes bounce around the room, searching for an answer or exit strategy but then they land on Konnor. He's watching me from the doorway, a cup of coffee in his hand. His brows are level and the excitement that was just in his eyes is gone. When he walks back over and sits down beside me, he says, “Here.” He passes me the cup. “You don’t look happy.”
“I am,” I lie. I think. I don’t know. “I’m just... It’s a lot.”
“Yeah.” He sighs, looking at the ground between his feet. “Yeah... Did you know?”
“No.” I shake my head as I cradle the cup and smell its lovely pungent scent. “No, I mean, sort of. I don’t know.”
“Same,” he says to the floor.
I sip my coffee and eye him. He was happy to wake up next to me. I must look the opposite. Guilt hits me. Hard. Again. IwishI was nothing but happy to see him. Iwishthis meant we could start over, be together, have the life we spoke about for years when we were children. A life we pretended was possible. It’s not that simple, I need time. I need time to think.
About Erik.
“Konnor.” I put my cup on his bedside table.
He looks up at me, eyes determined. “Liz.”
That name hits hard. “Please don’t call me that.”
He cringes. “What should I call you?”
“Blesk! Call me Blesk!”
“That isn’t your name.”
“It is!” I insist, stiffening and edging away from him. “It has been for a long time, and I moved on.”
Konnor winces. “Moved on? Why? Why don’t you want to remember us?”
“I need a shower,” I mumble, evasively.
His brows furrow hard, creating a crease between them. He points at a door. “There. What’s mine is yours.”
Even though I shouldn’t stand and walk away from him, I do. He is not Erik, and I do feel as though I can move in my own rhythm. I slide my legs off the mattress and walk into the bathroom, locking it behind me.