HIM

27. Tell Me About My Life

CALEB'S P.O.V

I don't want to look up from the floor in fear of the expression that might be on her face. Her hand still rests on my shoulder like some sort of weight. I anticipate the angry words, the fall of her hand, the accusation that I'm lying.

But it doesn't come.

"What did he do...?" She asks uneasily as if she's still trying to figure out if I'm telling her the truth.

"Let's just say this isn't the first time that you've been the girlfriend of Henry," I tell her, keeping my eyes on the floor. Not only do I feel extremely bad about telling her because I know she lives in a world that she barely knows, but it's even worse because of the situation that we're in. We're trapped in an elevator, sitting on the floor contaminated with god knows what, and she only has about 9 months worth of memories of me. So basically, I'm a stranger telling her that she's already dated this 'new' guy in her life.

I must sound absolutely insane.

"What are you talking about?" She puts her hand on the floor, taking it off of my shoulder.

"You've already dated and broken up with Henry," I say, still too afraid to look her in the eye.

It seems I have no option but to since she takes my chin and forces me to look at her. "You just reworded the same exact thing you told me to begin with. Please, elaborate."

"Okay," I say, clearing my throat probably in the most awkward way possible. It cuts through the silence like a knife, and makes me wish that we had taken the stairs. "Well, almost...three years ago...wow, that doesn't seem like that long ago...um, Henry appeared at our office in this suit and tie and asked you to go on a date with him."

She nods her head. "okay, and then what?"

"And then you did."

She sighs in slight frustration, the hair that has fallen in front of her face flings out in the breeze that she's created with her sigh. "Could you be any vaguer?"

"I'm sorry!" I put my hands up in defense. "It's just not something I feel comfortable talking about!"

"And why's that? It isn't even your life that you're talking about. I'm sure you've talked about somebody behind their backs. This is the same thing, except you're talking about me to my face."

"Because this is why you left. The small amount of information that I just told you is why the stairs are scratched up. It's why you moved out...why I left, too. But most importantly, it's ultimately why you don't remember anything anymore. "

Her mouth opens as if she wants to say something but no words come out. Instead, she slumps back against the wall of the elevator, staring straight ahead. "So, you're telling me that Henry is the cause of my accident."

"Indirectly, yes."

"Indirectly?"

"He started a chain of events that lead to it."

"Tell me more."

"This is so weird," I say, realizing that I'm telling her a story about her life.

She scoffs. "You think?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Okay, just continue then," She says, turning to me. "Tell me about my life."

I tell her everything that happened from the moment she met Henry to the moment that I found her passed out, bleeding on the floor of her apartment. I tell her the stuff that I've pushed so far back in my mind that it's a struggle for me to even recall the hard details. I inform her about everything that I've tried to forget...about how crushing it was to see her nearly dead. I describe the two years of silence between the two of us...about how we met, what we did to start the business, the different vacations we went on, and I tell her everything that I know about Henry.