Bed of Lies (ON HOLD)

XXXV

Tony is lying. He has to be. How could I have told him to hate me? It's impossible when I consider that all I want is to be loved by him. I can't imagine a world where I would hinder Tony from loving me. His love is why I wake up and wish to breathe every day. I remain tongue-tied, an effect of the stunned state in my head, until it becomes clear exactly what he meant.

Clara.

Even in her death, she still brings me problems like this. She constantly sets up rifts between Tony and me through the veil separating the dead from the living. I can't help but hate her all over again.

"Isi, why are you so quiet?"

I have seconds to improvise. "Do you remember when I told you and Walter I lost my memories?"

Tony replies instantly. "Of course I do. It was a shock for me, as you'd never spoken of such before."

"Yes," I nod, the story taking shape in my mind. "The thing is, I got into an accident riding a motorbike, and—"

"You know how to ride a bike?" Tony cuts in, gaping at me like a fish pulled out of its habitat. It's a cute look on him. One better than his anger, certainly.

"I know how to do many things, Tony. Most of which you'd never imagine I had a clue of." My fingers latch in a claw on my kneecap. Yes, he wouldn't know the many ways I know how to kill a man without leaving a single trace behind.

Tony seems to melt into his seat as he vents a tired sigh. "I can see that now." He comments. "So you lost your memories due to that accident?"

I nod, carrying on with my lies. It's a wonder he believes the words from my lips. Perhaps he's only pretending to. I pause to consider the effects such a development would have. It would be disastrous, but I'm too far deep to retract my statements. I have to soldier ahead at full speed.

Squaring my shoulders, I drag in a monstrous breath and answer his question. "I did. While I didn't misplace all of my memories, I mainly have fragments left as mementoes of some parts of the past."

"Is that so?" His eyes are stuck on the pavement, watching the falling particles highlighted by the car's beams. I join him in gazing blankly at the shower of dust, washing myself in a daze. Eventually, he speaks. "Then I have to remind you of all you said." I wince at the icy tone with which he stated that. It's like a whip's been lashed against my face. It hurts hellishly.

I force my shoulders to jerk in a stiff shrug. "It's up to you whether or not you wish to speak about the past. I can't compel you to do anything against your will."

Tony fixes a vacant look on me after I say that. I feel like I've done something wrong by the intensity of his stare. At a point, it becomes a game of who can rubberneck the other longer. Strangely, I emerge the winner. Tony shifts his gaze back to the windshield.

I breathe slowly, expectation budding and building up as it's obvious he has an opinion to express. "You broke me, Isi." He smiles, a complete contrast to the forlornness he wears. A profound sadness has overtaken him, one so heavy and riddled with agony. "It's bewildering that you don't remember at all what you said that day before you returned to Nigeria."

My chest is suddenly tight, my throat too narrow to let the air in. I swallow hard. It's difficult to imagine what Clara must have said to him. I'm sure it's not something I can take lightly. Otherwise, he would have forgotten by now.

In contrast, the wound inflicted on him seems just as fresh as it always was. I don't know what she did. Worse, I don't know what to do to remedy it.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Tony. I don't know what to say."