Imperfect but mine

Chapter 5

Aina

Sunday, 08:45 pm

The minute I realize the discrepancy between Amaan's accident story and the placement of his scar, a million questions and thoughts flash through my brain. Was it really an accident? Was it a murder? Why were the records wrong? Did the eyewitnesses lie? Why did no one ever point this problem out to Amaan before me ? If the accident story is incorrect, maybe the juvenile home story is also incorrect?

I am so lost in my thoughts that I literally forget to check on the boy who is the real victim in this. I hear a movement next to me which brings me back to the present and I see him sliding his wet shirt onto him. His eyes have an unmistakable amount of remorse and hurt in them. Shit! To be honest, I can't even imagine what he is going through right now. 

He doesn't say anything and motions to get up from the pool chair. But I hold his hand and tug him back. "Amaan, let's talk about this, please!" I can hear my voice shaking.

He nods and leans toward me saying, "I know what you are thinking. And honestly, I have no idea how to comprehend anything right now. I realize that I am living a lie; because I clearly wasn't in the driver's seat when the accident took place. But it still doesn't mean it wasn't an accident and it doesn't mean I wasn't the culprit. I could have fiddled with the controls, even if I was in the passenger seat."

"I have no idea why the records are false, or why no one bothered to properly investigate the matter. I have never been shirtless in public and no one ever really gave a damn about me when I was younger. But I realize that I was so deeply drowning in my own guilt and anger that I didn't see the fallacies myself," Amaan sighs and pulls me closer.

"The problem, however, will never resolve, Aina. Because no matter how hard I try, those memories don't come back to me. I have no way to prove one way or the other, if I don't remember what happened that day. That's what is so frustrating about all of this. I wasn't joking when I told you that I am disappointed with myself. I have so many questions. I have so much that I want to know. But this stupid blankness in my brain just does not go away," he points at his head and I can see tears streaming down his face. 

The hurt and disappointment is so evident on his face that I can almost hear my heart break for him. And for the little boy in the orphanage who had to grow up all alone with this painful and dark past. I wipe his tears and hug him as tightly as I can saying, "I am here for you. Always. That will never change."  

He looks at me with so much love and warmth that I can't help but snuggle closer to him. "I love you, Aina. So much that it freaks me out sometimes," he says.

"I love you too."

"I don't know my family history or my genetics well. And I have a history of losing my memory. But I never want to forget you. I can never live with myself or forgive myself if that ever happens. So, one month back I went to a medical centre and took tests to check for Alzheimer's. Well, the results came back last week and I tested negative. And I want you to know that."

"You did that for me?"

"I am serious about us, Aina. I want the whole marriage and kids thing with you. I just wanted to make sure that my dementia does not affect our future. And I wanted to make sure that I don't transfer this hereditarily to my babies."

I am crying right now. I am not even hiding that fact. I am sure my eyes and nose are red. And snot is probably running everywhere. That always happens when I ugly cry. Ugh! But this man. "Babies? As in, plural?" I hiccup.

"Uh huh! I was thinking of creating our own football team. What do you say?"

"Nope, not happening. Not more than two. That's my number. If you want a team, you need to find someone else."