forgetful `

David felt tired, something that shocked him as soon as he found himself able to identify. As though he had been stretched to his limit, the male rubbed at his cheek, letting out a breath. “This isn’t the field,” he said lowly, glancing up at Matt, “It doesn’t do me any good to get angry.” In fact, it seemed that showing any strong emotion at all these days was played poorly against him. “I’m getting another lawyer, we meet next week. My alibis fell through, but–” His fingers clenched, a small break in a facade. “It’s not fucking fair.”  The mention of Lia made him calm, looking back up. “I’m free right now, if you are.”

With her weekends suddenly sparse and available for the first time in years, Shay discovered herself at a loss for how to spend them. After an hour and a half of lazing around her apartment, she finally trekked down to the park to begin sketching, though she nearly lost control of her notepad when a small figure collided with her own. “Hey, are you alright?” Immediately the brunette crouched to check on the girl, pushing some long hair from her features just as the man she presumed to be the child’s father approached. “It’s cool; no harm, no foul. I don’t think she could do much damage if she tried.”

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” David said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If I get mad, it’s not gonna change the fact that everyone’s fuckin’ seen it.” He sighed, “Mav lost his job over it.” The athlete neglected to mention that he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be asked back to his own as a result. Lia was a source of light in his life, something untouched by the nastiness of the world that he seemed oftentimes subjected to. “Any chance I can see her soon?” He lifted a shoulder. “Any chance we can talk properly, too?”

It curled at the corners of her lips a little more, her laugh a little more real this time as she remembered all too well the look on his face as they’d watched the little window tell them what she already knew. Pregnant. He’d been over the moon, she’d been no different, and for a moment there hadn’t been a single worry over what they’d do, their only thought had been the fact that they’d be parents; together. “You stayed with me,” she continued on, “you didn’t even wanna’ leave me to go to class the next day, I had to convince you that I’d be fine.” From day one, he’d worried over her, as if the smallest thing might change their world again; as if it’d all been a dream and they’d wake up from it too soon. “I remember that you stayed up while I tried to sleep. You were..–” She smiled a little more looking across at him as she remembered how eager he’d been, “looking up everything you could about pregnancies and what I should or shouldn’t do, what I couldn’t eat.. I had to pry the laptop from your hands to get you to try sleep, and even then I don’t think you did.” She, on the other hand had been exhausted. Frowning slightly, McKenna paused and held her hand up for a moment as she stood up and crossed the room, pulling out a drawer to dig through a small box of cards, letters, small keepsakes she’d kept until she found a small crumpled piece of paper. “When I woke up you were working on this.” Despite the fact that she had every intention in giving it to him, she hesitated for a moment, the list of baby names in her hand seemed like a silly thing to keep when their own daughter was already here in the flesh, but it was a memory; she’d never loved Matthew more than she had when she’d seen how truly excited he’d been for the next step in their lives, it was how she knew she would have been completely okay with putting her life on hold for a little while. McKenna held it out for him, the paper folded all too many times in the past, “I think this was the third list you made, you had ink all over your cheek and I just..–” The sharp intake of air was necessary as she stopped, lips pursing as she retracted her steps to grab for the bottle of water she’d sat beside her gym bag earlier.

The words flowed of a memory that only briefly returned to him, providing few details in what had been a huge ordeal for the pair of them. A hand curled over his mouth, fingers pressing into his jaw. His eyes didn’t leave her face, focusing on it as the words slipped past her lips. The night they found out they would be having a baby recounted for him. There was a feeling deep within him that told him he’d been happy, unimaginably so from learning that Kenna was pregnant. So why, if he had been that happy, couldn’t he remember all the details of the night? If what she was saying was true, this would have been one of the happiest days of his life. And he could hardly remember it. Nostrils flared from the sudden release of air that had been held within his lungs for an extended amount of time. It had taken years for Matthew to come to terms with the fact that he may never remember all the years of his life, all the cherished moments that he’d lived. But sitting here, listening to such a meaningful moment in both of their lives, it created such an ache in his chest that he wasn’t certain he’d ever get over. For the most part, he’d been listening without reaction, taking in the words hoping to piece together the memory that was struggling to return. But when she stood up, his hand dropped away from his face, Matthew stirring to stand up. Only to be halted by her return, the crumpled paper in her hand. Brows crashed together, confusion apparent in his features. His gaze shifted from her own to the paper within her hands, until she was holding it out to him. Fingers gently took it from her, eyes dropping down to what was unmistakably his own handwriting. There was an inhale of air, teeth catching at the insides of his cheeks. Baby names, both male and female, were scribbled on any visible surface of the paper. He recognized a few of them, jotted down from family members that bore the same name. “We didn’t even choose from the many that I’d written that night,” he spoke hesitantly, eyes still dancing across the page.

Hope was a fickle thing. One day it could be all you held onto, and the next, you couldn’t find it in the brightest ray of sunlight. While there wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t want Matthew to remember, she’d finally begun to let go of the idea that he ever would. Bits and pieces she could accept — but one of the most defining moments of their life together? It was a kick in the teeth that she could barely breathe beyond it. Frowning, she traced the lines of her long worn coffee table, stained wood from coffee mugs and spilled coffee that almost carved their way into the grains and she wished he’d been wrong. Five years ago, she could have believed that each returned memory would be a gift, but now – after so long, what she’d wanted just felt like a twisted knife in her gut. “We were supposed to go out that night, Tyler’s birthday, I think.” She’d remembered the sound of the football team jeering at Matthew over the phone when he’d called to say they weren’t coming. “I was sick all morning, it woke you up and you stayed in with me all day. You made yourself something with bacon and the smell of it alone…–” She turned up her nose at the memory, the first moment she’d realized what the sickness was. “I knew before we took the test but you.– you wanted to, just to be sure.” His doctors had always told her to be gentle, to let him remember things on his own, but before she knew it the memory fell from her lips like an overflowing sink, her throat catching on the swelling emotion that formed a lump she couldn’t budge. A laugh cut through it all, short and sweet as she pressed the pad of her finger into the inner corner of her eye and brushed away the touch of salted water, “I’d never seen you smile like that before.”

The memories came slowly, bits and pieces infiltrating his sleeping mind, displaying themselves in what he could only imagine were dreams. But he had always been told that one could hardly remember their dreams as the day went on. These details, however, continued to remain. They started to become more vivid, creating a feeling within him that argued against his mind telling him they were simply dreams. It felt like he had lived these dreams, becoming more and more real with each occurrence. Now he sat in McKenna’s living room, listening to her finally confirm that what he had confessed was real. A breath was released, shoulders slumping from the tension that had been eased out of them. His eyes lifted from his clasped hands to her features, shifting over them as he listened to her recount the memory further. Tyler’s birthday, the guys teasing and taunting him; she was filling in the blanks that his mind hadn’t fully been able to provide. Was he finally remembering, after all these years? He remembered Aurelia, almost every moment of her life, but there were still bits that had been displaced from his mind. Like the day they had found out Kenna was pregnant, or the day that she had given birth. Now he could cross one of those off the list of memories he may never get back. “I was...so inexplicably happy,” he spoke hesitantly, brows squeezing together. “I didn’t --- care about anything else, only you and the start of our family.” And he hadn’t. Even if it meant giving up his chance at a football career, he had only wanted to be with Kenna and their child, to start their family.

Another thing to stress about, that was all each new day seemed to bring and despite her concern, she felt something sink in her chest. Would there ever be a day where she could just breathe? Was it terrible of her to want that while he was standing right there in front of her clearly struggling with something. It was beyond her, why he’d come here — it’d been so long since he’d sought out her help, McKenna almost worried, even now, that she’d say something and he’d push her away again. As it finally spilled through his lips, her breathe stilled in her throat and out of nostalgia alone, she brushed the palm of her hand over her stomach, the memory still clear as day in her own mind. Moments passed and she soon shook her head, they couldn’t talk about this on her doorstep. “You should come inside, you can’t stand out here like this.” McKenna said quietly, stepping away from the doorway and waiting for him to come in before she closed the door behind him. Leading him through to the living room, she watched him carefully, the frazzled look that he couldn’t seem to shake made her feel ill — it reminder her so much of the first few weeks he fought against the memory loss, while he still fought to find something solid in his conscious. “Is that what you remember?” She asked gently, gesturing to the couch as she sat down herself. 

Fingers had been tangled in dampened hair when she’d heard the knock at her door and true to her very few moments on her own, she might have even paused long enough to considering not answering at all. The silence of her home not always as comforting as they were right now. Unfortunately, even thinking like that made her feel guilty and so, pulling dark locks across her shoulder she continued picking at the knots as she opened the door to find familiar dark locks and freckles. “Did I miss a call or something?” She thought briefly, her phone lay where she’d thrown it on her couch when she’d gotten home, “What’s going on, you look.. – you don’t look so good, Matty.”

David sighed, raking a hand through his hair. Dark eyes lifted to meet Matthew’s, and he failed to hide the surprise that stained his features. “Yeah,” he responded honestly, relaxing into his stance. “It’s a stupid headline, but I’ve had worse.” His chin tilted up, “I miss Lia.” The athlete let out a breath, “I miss both of you.”

Taking a walk to let off steam felt like a better idea than going back to the gym– after pushing himself that week, his body was starting to feel less like a well oiled machine and more like a sack of sand. Dark eyes lifted, and he caught a familiar figure heading his way. After two days of not talking to Matthew, he had begun to debate just popping by to see Aurelia, a thought of which he had quelled completely. With Maverick no longer speaking to him and half the town back to giving him sideways glances, he missed the solidity of Matt’s friendship. “Hi,” he returned, pausing to shove his hands in his pockets. “How’re things?”

Now that the weekend was upon them, Matthew was finally able to take Aurelia out for the day. Which meant showing up at the park as usual so that she could play with the other kids and run around the structure. It was expected that as they neared the park, his daughter would untangle her hand from his and take off. What was not expected was the woman she pushed past on her way. Hurrying forward towards the woman, Matthew offered up a sheepish grin, “I’m so sorry about her. She gets a little too excited for the park.”

It was a piece of home that she was so sure she’d lost, and perhaps only then did she realize just how much she’d missed either of them. The once broken cavern in her chest a slow and cataclysmic ache now that begged for her to cling to what she’d already let go of. It was toxic, all of it was – while McKenna’s love for Aurelia never once began to fade, she knew who she was, and when she’d made the decision to do everything on her own, she’d known that Matthew’s only real tether to who he was lay in the bright eyes of the little girl in her arms. Leaving had left her permanently bruised, one wrong turn and she felt it all, but for the sake of the man she’d loved it had been just one more sacrifice she’d make for him. The makings of a small smile stretched across her features and though she’d already thanked him, it resonated within her that perhaps they could still find some level ground, McKenna whispering yet another grateful thank you beneath her breath before she stepped back from the door to let him in. “No..– No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to..– It is, it’s still my favorite. I was just..” Making a big deal out of it was selfish, and though it gave way to false hopes, McKenna reminded herself that there’d been almost too many of them with him. “You know, I should probably apologize?” She almost questioned, closing the door behind him to make her way back into her home, “I didn’t realize until this morning that I’d messaged you yesterday.”

Hell didn’t quite cover it, the sluggish feeling that followed her from the confines of an empty bed to her living room couch, the dark shadows of her small home only a mild relief from the ache that throbbed against the inside of her skull. Whatever she’d drank had very clearly been a terrible idea, along with whatever else that might have happened. The gentle knock at her door stirred her from a daze not quite sleep, and in a flurry of limbs she rolled from the comfort of cushion and blankets to trudge her way to the door with a hefty sigh. However little tolerance she might have thought she found disappeared at the sight of Matthew with Lia in tow. Almost instantly, features brightened and she crouched low enough to meet her daughter, “Hiya baby. Oh my god, look how big you are!” She cooed, pulling her close, lifting her up into her arms, the ever familiar moment enough to bring a lump to her throat and a prickle to chestnut hues. Fingers curled into the loose locks of her daughters hair, savoring as much as she could; she’d already missed so much. “You didn’t have to do any of this, Matty.” Her voice broke against her sincerity, pressing a long overdue kiss to the crown of their daughters head. He really didn’t – at this point in time he owed her nothing. Chewing at her lesser lip, she paused long enough to look up at him. “Thank you. Do you..–” Like every conversation they’d ever had, things felt too familiar, so much so that she’d once again almost missed it, “Did you say you brought me greek food?” Unlike last time, she wouldn’t jump directly to a truth within all the memories he’d lost, maybe it was nothing; but the jarring of her heart was almost painful.

It certainly didn’t take a genius to know that McKenna would be feeling it after the festival. The text messages she’d sent were proof enough of that. So while she seemed eager to see Lia, he gave her some time to recover before coming round. And while he was still reeling from the recent information, Matthew was certainly not going to keep his daughter from her mother. With one of Lia’s hands tucked gently into his own, he used his other to knock gently against the front door of McKenna’s place. As the door opened before them, Matt smiled gently while brandishing the bag he’d brought along, “Figured you might still be recovering, so got a few things for you.” He lowered the bag while simultaneously releasing Lia’s hand so that she may go to McKenna, “I stopped by a local Greek place. It’s still your favorite, right?” Brows furrowed for the briefest of moments, wondering if he was wrong in that sense. In all honesty, he couldn’t even remember who had told him this information, or whether they would even know.