My Name Is Vincent Ryan Keller

Chapter Thirteen

Life was so unfair. That moment when Catherine and I had patch things up and even invited me for a dinner at her apartment. I was so excited that I left early to buy her flowers. However, I was not able to come over because I woke up in Brooklyn Bridge! How the hell did I get there? Oh no. I hoped she would not think I stood her up.

I had frequent headaches and losing visions. First time it happened was after I went home from Catherine's party. I remembered I was talking to JT about Catherine kissing a guy at her birthday party. Then I kind of lost my balance and some blurred visions then it went away. I just thought I was too tired and needed to rest.

When I woke up today, I felt nothing different but it still made me worried. Who would not if you woke up in Brooklyn Bridge? JT was nowhere to be found for me to consult with. So, I looked for the sphygmometer to check my blood pressure. Where had JT kept it? It should be here somewhere. I finally found it at the bottommost part of the drawer. I placed the cuff around my left upper arm, inflated the cuff and released the pressure. I did not see anything alarming from the results. My blood pressure was fine. What was wrong with me then?

I was too busy checking my condition that I had not noticed Catherine was there. I startled when she called my name and gave me a worried face when she saw the device wrapped around my arm.

I somehow gave her a cold treatment. I was not sure why. Maybe because my attention was to figure out what was wrong with me? Maybe because the last time I saw her was she was kissing some other guy? Was that even connected? I assured her I was fine though. I apologized for not making it for dinner.

She thanked me for the present I left on her window sill. Funny thing was… she had this look of guilt as she explained the "incident" at her party. That the kiss was nothing and it was just a result of alcohol. I did not want to make a big deal out of it so I told her that she could kiss anyone she liked and she did not owe me an explanation. I was not her boyfriend, anyway. So…

Was that a right move? Or was I the one who owed her an explanation? If there was something between us... if we were… if we had... Okay. Status: It's Complicated. Did she feel the same way? Wait. What was I feeling anyway? Uh-oh. The last and only person I was going to talk to about this was JT. Where was he?

Honestly, I felt guilty on the way I showed my emotions to Catherine. I did not know how to act on the situation. I did not know how to do this. I could not even identify what this was.

Oh, come on. That guy again?

I went to see Catherine to explain my actions this morning. I was not sure how or what would I say but I needed to tell her whatever comes out my mouth. I did not find her at the precinct so I listened to the sounds of police cars. They might be on a case somewhere.

I found Catherine leaving an art gallery near SoHo. A familiar face followed her from behind. Was that the guy from her party? He was walking her towards the car. I heard them talking about who kissed first and who kissed back. I wished I did not hear that.

Why not let her in the car and leave? Why did he had to hang around the car door and leaned and teased Catherine for another kiss? And this Catherine Chandler... was expecting him to kiss her! Okay. I needed to calm down myself. I left the scene when I felt my eyes turned amber.

I had written the results on this notebook from the self-test I did for like an hour or two but the figures did not make any sense. I needed JT to interpret these in details. However, he also could not find a relative explanation. Therefore, he blamed Catherine. The term he used was "I fugue out", that my memory loss started when I saw Catherine kissed some guy. Long story short, JT wanted to conclude that I was jealous. Where in medical history that jealousy could cause memory loss?

I could consult about anything to JT besides my personal interest. Most especially about Catherine Chandler. He hated me for getting involved with a cop. Involved. Was that even the right term?

But I guessed JT knew better how I feel more than I did. Maybe I was in denial. Maybe I misinterpreted our connection. Maybe I was scared or worse… Maybe I was afraid to fall in love with her.