Love Story (A Shawn Mendes Fanfiction)

Chapter 48- Ghost of you

5SOS

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The first week back home came to an end. I was still trying to remember Shawn. It was hard. I still had no idea who he was.

But I was about to find out.

"Do you want some coffee?", he asked me one morning. I was sitting on his couch eating cereal and nodded, expecting him to have a coffee machine (because which normal guy in his mid 20s doesn't own a coffee machine... He didn't).

"Alright. I'll go to the cafe down the street right away. Is it still coffee with milk and cinnamon?"

I furrowed my brows: "I don't know. Can I come with maybe. I might have forgotten what the options are in the cafe", I joked and he smiled gently, helping me up.

"Then I'll show you"

But the second we got out of the condo (which I hadn't left since I got there from the hospital a week ago) I found out what was different about him.

Because we were immediately crowded by dozens of fans, snapping pictures of us, talking about us, to us and trying to hug us.

"Shawn...", I said, trying to get out of the crowd but failing. And suddenly, just like that, everything was coming back to me.

Our first meeting, being hustled by the fans at the airport.

My ex boyfriend, Jackson.

Him having his typical issues.

Then finally, all the big fights, all the tears.

And last, the death of our child.

That's when I started to run.

I didn't know where I was going, I just found myself in front of a nice apartment building on the outskirts of Toronto and when I knocked on the door, Brian opened it.

When he saw me, he was concerned, I knew that. So when I took a step forward to hug him tight  and started to cry into his chest he held me tight and lead me into the house, closing his door behind me.

Shawn's point of view

"Come on Nathalie! Answer your phone!", I tried calling her again, but it went straight to voicemail. I put my hands on my head, falling on my couch, close to a panic attack, when suddenly my phone rang- Brian.

I answered: "Hey man. Now is not a good time. I can't find Nat..."

But he quickly interrupted me: "Don't worry about her. She's here with me. She was totally scared when she got here. But she's fine now, she's sleeping on the couch."

I sighed of relief: "So, can you bring her over when she's awake?", I asked, but my answer from Brian was just an uncomfortable sigh. Then a few seconds of silence: "There's something I gotta tell you. And you won't like it."

I sat up on my couch and grabbed the phone tighter: "What is it?"

"She told me all about the fan encounter. But she also told me about the fact that she remembered you."

"Really!? That's amazing! I gotta talk to her..."

"Listen Shawn, she didn't remember all of it.", Brian suddenly said and I got quiet again: "What do you mean?"

"She only remembered the bad parts. The way she got surrounded by your fans after your flight- she didn't remember that you also got her out of there and that you handled it like a gentleman. The fact that you're the reason she broke up with Jackson- she didn't remember that he was abusive, that you saved her. And all of your fights that you ever had, the problems, they all came back, but the good times didn't. She's been crying for hours because she remembered Skylar...", his voice broke all of a sudden. He was really emotional about it, but I was as well. "I need to talk to her. Please let me see her. I can't lose her.", I whispered, but Brian heard me. He knew me too well.

"I'll ask her when she wakes up. And I'll put in a good word for you. But I can't promise anything, alright bro?", he said gently and I nodded. I knew he couldn't see me, but that didn't matter. He knew...

Nathalies point of view

I woke up on Brians couch 4 hours after my breakdown.
I had no idea what was going on, but there were just way too many people and I just lost it.

Brian has been nice to me from the start. I apparently subconsciously remembered his address and honestly- right now it was the only place I felt safe.

"Hey.", Brian entered the room with two cups of tea and slowly approached me and sat down next to me. "Do you feel better?"

I nodded, looking at him carefully. He wasn't as attractive as Shawn. Not by far. His red hair was short and stood off of his headBut with him I felt the connection that I was supposed to feel with Shawn.

"Do you want tea? I made one for you.", he handed me a cup and I took a sip. The steaming liquid warmed my freezing body and finally I stopped shaking.

"Thank you Brian. I appreciate it. And I'm sorry I just came here without calling you before. I'm sure you had better things to do on a Sunday than taking care of me."
"Are you kidding? I love taking care of you. You're one of my best friends. Whenever you need me, just come over.", he put his arm around me and pulled me against his chest tightly.
"You know that Shawn loves you right?", he whispered and I sat up to look at him.

"He loved me before the accident. And he hopes that I'm still the same person. But I'm not. And I will never be that person again. I can't be.
He can't accept that I'm not the person anymore that he fell in love with. The person that loved him.
I'm seeing the pictures with him and me and we looked so in love. But I just don't feel it anymore."

Brian looked at me carefully. Then after a while he said: "So you're not in love with him anymore? Is that what you're saying?"

I furrowed my brows: "I don't know. I mean, I literally know him for a week now and all the memories I have of him are bad. I know you told me that it's not all of it, but it's just hard.
Every time I think about him I have these flashbacks of him hurting me...

And he's just so complicated. I remember everything about his anxiety. And it's so hard to handle. And when I couldn't remember something earlier this week he completely freaked out on me. Why is he so complicated?", I didn't notice I was crying until Brian wiped the tears of my cheeks and grabbed my face gently. "We'll fix this. I promise."
"I don't know if I want to fix it", I said before he gently kissed my forehead and hugged me again.

Both of us were completely unaware of the person standing in the doorway behind us, the person who heard whatever we said. That one person with tears streaming down his face, his tall figure leaning against the doorframe, before he ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair and turned around, closing the door silently, walking away from us.