Stay With Me

September 28th

Louisa had asked the nurses to help her position herself so that she was sitting up when he came in. She didn't want to look as pathetic as she felt, though somehow that seemed unavoidable. Her parents, or at least who she'd been told were indeed her parents, had told her that someone wanted to see her. Her mother, Josie, hadn't seemed very happy about it.

"Who is it?" She had asked them when they started bickering among themselves about whether or not it was a good idea to let him come visit. Whoever he was.

"It's the man you--work? worked? I'm not really sure what the right word is--for. Will Traynor." Her dad had told her. Louisa tried to recall the name Will Traynor, but didn't have any luck. Whoever he was, she had forgotten him too.
"Well, he wants to come see you--has been staying in London ever since you got hit, actually."

"I don't think it's a good idea," her mother interjected, but Lou couldn't see why it wouldn't be. He was just her employer, wasn't he?
"What if he leaves her again, Bernard?" She said more quietly this time and just to her husband. Lou didn't care. She was determined to integrate herself into as much of her old life as possible with the hope that something would jog her memories back into place. Nothing thus far had.

Lou stared anxiously at the clock. 12:30. He should be here by now, she thought to herself. And almost as soon as the thought had come and passed, the hospital room door opened. Louisa didn't really know what she had expected. A tall handsome man? A short fat one? She didn't exactly get either. Instead, a well groomed and attractive man rolled into the room in a motorized wheel chair. He didn't look at Louisa while he rolled in, the door swinging shut behind him. Lou watched as his fingers moved very slowly to navigate the controls of the chair. Her eyes strayed to his legs that didn't seem to be nervously shaking nor was either foot tapping to non existent music. Everything from his neck down, despite his fingers, was still. That ruled out the affair Lou thought she might've been having with her employer before she lost her memories.
It seemed like forever before the man had positioned his chair just right beside her bed and he finally spoke.

"Clark," He said, his voice cracking slightly. Louisa finally allowed herself to look at his face. At his cleanly shaven tanned skin, his perfect nose, his lovely eyes and hair. He was handsome, Lou thought.
She opened her mouth to respond, then realized that she wasn't sure what to say. By the way he said her name--the affection in his voice and the hurt and love on his face--told her that he was saying far more than just her last name. It was like there was something silent between them. But she didn't know what. And it broke her heart.
"Right, of course," He said, shaking his head. "I'm Will Traynor, you probably don't remember."

Louisa stared at him for a moment, watching his two fingers fidgeting nervously. A stray piece of hair fell out of place and into his eyes and she longed to reach over and fix it for him.
"Should I?" She asked, cautiously. It sounded rather rude, she later thought, but what she had wanted was for him to delve into the story of how they met and what history there was between them. Instead he stayed quiet for a moment.

"Not really. I--you--You worked for me. I just wanted to make sure that you were well before I left," He said, his voice draining of emotion quite similarly to the way his face drained of color. Lou could see how tired he looked. How sad and empty and broken his eyes were. She thought that that's how she was feeling, but one look at this man told her that she had hardly felt anything compared to him. For some very odd reason that she couldn't place, she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around this man and try in whatever way she could to ease his burdens.

Instead, all she said was, "Oh. Going anywhere nice?" He gave her a sad, weary smile and shook his head. Louisa thought that she could see the gleam in his eyes that people got when they were holding back tears that they didn't want to shed-- at least not in front of someone else.

"Not particularly," he said with a small laugh. Lou just nodded, incredibly self conscious and incredibly out of place. She felt like there was something she should be saying or doing, but she couldn't remember. She looked at the man and saw a handsome face with an apparently broken body, but she had no idea how it was that their lives had become intertwined. She had been told she worked for him, but she didn't know what it was that she did. She didn't know if there had been secret jokes between them or perhaps stolen kisses; some type of history that would bring an employer all the way out to London to see her before he left for somewhere.

"I'm sorry that I don't remember," She whispered. He gave her another sad smile, and then she watched as he tried his hardest to lift his hand and place it over hers. It hardly moved at all. Lou found herself reaching over the side of the bed and taking his hand. She held it lightly, not sure if that's what he'd wanted her to do, or if she should even be holding the hand of her employer. He moved his thumb very slowly to brush it over her knuckles, and she felt a single tear drop roll down his cheek and splash on the back of her hand.

"Take care, Louisa Clark," Was all he said when he looked back up at her. His eyes were definitely shining now and they were rimmed red. He grasped at the wheelchair's controls with his other hand and suddenly he was pulling away from her and wheeling toward the door.

"You too, Will Traynor," She called after him. Will looked back at her before he left the room and the door swung shut behind him. Louisa could feel a tug in her stomach, and her heart seemed to climb into her throat. She felt as though she had just blown some test that she didn't know she was taking. And now Will was gone. And she didn't know why it meant so much to her that he had left, and she didn't know why it had hurt so badly. She watched through the glass as his chair rolled past her window, his head down. And she knew that he was crying, regardless of who might've been watching.