Retrograde Amnesia

*Let me know if it's worth continuing

Author's Note

This is not a love story with heteronormative standards. This is not where the woman gets rescued by her manly Prince. This is not a typical love triangle story.

While there is depth and passion, I refused to conform to the unquestioned story lines where the female character relies heavily and solely upon the male character. Hopefully, my readers will find respect and inspiration in all characters, equally, given their different point of views and stories.

Prologue

When I found out my ex girlfriend was placed in a mental institute, it struck my inner nerve quite personally, and I was consumed with rage and a burning desire to stab something...or someone. Where was that goddamn husband of hers?

One might say I have extreme anger issues at the best of times, to which I will not deny.

My love, Victoria. I knew the whole junk deal with doctors and hospitals - they were all a deceiving bunch of BS. They never once cared about their patients, only their patients' money - and let me tell you, Victoria's family was loaded.

Where was Mr. Lee in all of this? The one I lost her to given the fatal accident of 2016? I knew he never truly cared for her. I suspected that even though Victoria was lovable in every conceivable way, that he only felt bad for her retrograde amnesia. It had to be a pity marriage - had to.

Either way, I needed to get her out. My Victoria never belonged anywhere but in my protective arms - I mean, her home and family. As long as she was safe, the world was content... And thus far, the world has suffered fifteen years of discontent.

I needed the help of her father; her only family member I knew. I would've much rather asked for help from her mother, except for the fact that her mother decided to slowly escape her life and end her misery on these purple antidepressants amidst the chaos and notion of her daughter's severe state. Like I said, the world was happier with Victoria happy, safe and healthy to which point she was neither of these things.

You don't belong there, my sweet, Victoria. I will get you out, but most importantly, I need you to get yourself out.

Victoria

I despised art galleries, but out of love, I was driven to go. My boyfriend, Ezra Steele, had an art show in the Hamptons. As much as I hated art galleries, he hated rich people, so neither of us were that thrilled to be going to the Hamptons. Either way of course, he would be getting paid which would mean one step closer to a new house in LA.

I had just gotten off from Merchandising class, one crisp, Thursday evening when my phone buzzed in my Versace bag (a gift from the generous owner of my part time job). It was Ezra.
"Hey," I exclaimed, scanning the streets before I JAywalked across. I checked my watch - five hours until his show.
"Hey love," he purred. His voice was tranquil and jovial, and not at all sounding nervous. I raised an eyebrow.
"What's going on,lah?" I continued, opening the door to my Volvo.
"The Hamptons is great! Don't know why I ever doubted this place," he mused excitedly. "I can't wait until you get here. I found this really cool ramen restaurant just blocks away from our hotel... It'll be perfect, Tori." At that point, I couldn't help but smile at his young boy enthusiasm.
"And I can't wait until I see you. It's been two days," I sighed, putting my phone on speaker while placing it on my lap. I revved up the engine, ready to pull out from my school's parking lot.
"You just started driving?" He asked with a slight chuckle.
"Yup. I'll end up being an hour early if all goes well on the highway," I calculated while driving past my busy college. "Anyway, I'll see you later."
"Bye love," he murmured before hanging up.

It was already dusk midway through my trip. Fatigue began to slowly creep up on me, as well as hunger. There were no road signs indicating fast food stops. The sky was a combination of navy blue and dark purple. Driving alone gave me a sense of calm and serenity; peace and content to my own mind. I allowed myself to ponder on my life. I was twenty and attending UD, with an above minimum wage, part time job on the side. I was lucky, and I was happy. The world, for once, was working in my favor. I had loyal friends, and an amazing boyfriend whom I had known since I was fourteen, and he was sixteen.
Ezra dropped out of college after his first year due to money issues and pressuring parents. They wanted him to have a job rather than receive an education, which in my mind and my parents' minds was ridiculous. Yet, Ezra found success in a small, Japanese art studio located in Soho. There, he experimented with abstract forms on anime. One could call him a nerd - but he was my nerd.
We both aspired to live in Los Angeles, a dream we shared since we started dating in high school. Neither of us particularly wanted to stay in New York, since we found it not as great as California (lame reason, I know). However, this was a manageable goal if we worked hard to raise enough money for that kind of life.