Eddy had dreamed of a large wedding. With what little I can remember, I can at least remember him drawling on and on about what he imagined - the two of us, in white suits with bouquets of roses dancing around our feet, with so many petals covering the floor that they went up to our knees and graced the air with sweetness. He imagined everyone being there (of course, without the family that didn't exactly approve of our relationship), eyes glittering as they watched us dance the night away under the night skies of Brisbane.
It was a small ceremony today, with not even ten people. I was in my white suit, Eddy in his; there was a rose tucked into his pocket and one in mine. He grinned as he watched me walk down the aisle, and we held each other as we cried: of joy, not of sadness.
Today was not a day to worry about my dying mind, but tomorrow would be.
The wedding was over, and people were leaving to head home before the sun was even set, but the place was kind enough to let us dance into the darkness like we had originally envisioned. And with that, as the speakers crackled classical music and Eddy was in my arms, I asked him why he invited so little people.
"Figured it would be better." He smiled. "I didn't want to see many of my friends and family anyways."
Somewhere in that smile, there was bitterness. I knew it. I had seen that smile too many times, every time Eddy tried to comfort me when we left the hospital.
I think Eddy didn't invite too many people because he was afraid that it would turn into a pity party. Too many friends and family already knew about my... condition and saw me as something that needed to be protected. On a day like this, those people were the last people we wanted - and, so, Eddy sacrificed his dream.
No, Eddy didn't sacrifice it. I took it away from him with my memory.
Maybe I've said this too much, but I genuinely am sorry, Eddy.
You deserved so much better.
***
Eddy felt like he had fucked up.
The memory of tears in Brett's eyes and the panic that laced his voice was fresh in his mind as he sat in the waiting room, hands folded so tightly that his knuckles were white. He had let himself - himself and his underlying anger at Brett's Alzheimer's - go completely once he felt Brett's shoulders in his palms, finally unable to contain all of his thoughts.
He fiddled with a button on his shirt. I thought I had it under control.
There was a certainty to his mind: he knew that he was afraid of losing Brett. That was the fear that drove him the most. But with that fear came stress and frustration that he had to take out on someone, anyone who was within his reach. With it came a drive to keep Brett in and protected as much as he possibly could, even if it meant Brett had to be reminded of his own vulnerabilities. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
His eyes darted over to the set of double doors, waiting for any nurse or doctor to step out with news about Brett. While Eddy wasn't a doctor, he knew a decent amount about heat stroke (all thanks to the wonderful WebMD) and couldn't keep himself still at the thoughts of Brett. What if there was something wrong with his organs? His muscles? Anything? Everything, maybe? In that case, would it have been Eddy's fault - his fault for falling asleep too deeply after last night and for not keeping a careful eye on Brett? Did he have to do better?
Of course. I'll be better next time, honey.
He continued to fidget, fingers tapping against the plastic chair until the doors swung open with a bang.
*******
-vilopan_
YOU ARE READING
Remember Me
Fanfiction"Even if you start to forget everything about you, I promise I will still remember you." When Brett is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease, Eddy is the only one who can help Brett stay as Brett. Mystery, romance, and lots of sadness. Col...
