Even After Everything

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I screw my closed eyes up irritation at possibly the worst noise you could ever be woken by.

Someone should tell these fucking nurses to put a different sound on the vitals monitor.

‘Turn it off,’ I mumble incoherently, bringing my hand up to the side of my head and feeling a sore lump.

‘Sorry-’ says a male voice in an American accent. ‘It’s just telling me it’s running out of battery.’

That’s nice, they have American doctors…wait, what? My vitals monitor is running out of battery?

‘But what if I die? You have to charge it up again! Or get me a new one-’

‘It’s mine, not yours - and you won’t die,’ the voice soothes kindly.

I think for a moment, puzzled. ‘Why do you have a vitals monitor?’

And more to the point, why is my bed so hard?

‘Huh? It’s my phone Hannah - how are you feeling?’

I snap my eyes open, and everything is white. Pulling them into focus, I see Will looming over me, worry etched onto his face.

‘You’re not a doctor.’

‘Er…no. I’m not.’

I sit up sharply, head spinning, only to find that I’m not in hospital, and it had only been the ceiling which was white. I look round at the walls to find them that soft eggshell blue.

And everything floods back to me as I slump backwards, exhausted. For a second, I think that I might hit my head again on the floor again, but Will’s arms are there, catching me and laying my head in his lap.

I reach up towards his face, eyes welling up, just to check he’s real, really there, and it’s so hard for me to believe I went a year without knowing him - without knowing I knew him.

Then I register a moody looking, but still beautiful black haired woman sitting on the bed, glaring at me. Anger rushing back, I pull one hand away from his face, and bring it back in a stinging slap that echoes across the room.

‘That,’ I hiss. ‘Is for every woman who’s ever been cheated on. My head hasn’t come back to me to the extent that I can work out whether you did it to me before or not, but we kissed yesterday, and you are obviously with her.’ I fling a finger behind my head in the general direction of a woman that looks no more pregnant than I.

His mouth falls open comically. ‘If…I did it to you before?’

‘Yes. I suppose you’ll tell me you didn’t?’ I start crying in spite of myself, and the woman gets up angrily, leaving the room.

‘When before?’

‘When we were together.’

‘You mean…you remember?’

I nod, suddenly wanting to cry, sniffing and rolling into him to bury my head in his shirt as the tears escape. Talk about mood swings.

‘Hannah…we were never really properly together…but I never cheated on you. Ever. Samantha got pregnant before her and I broke up…at least that’s what she said - whether or not she was pregnant, or even is now remains to be seen.

‘I tried so hard to do the right thing this time, not to start anything until Sam and I had ended but it was so hard. I love you, and I never stopped. In the end I…I left her a message on her answering machine. We were never really properly attached - it was just something that happened because of the baby. I tried to fill your place with her. When I found out that you’d forgotten, that I had another chance, I couldn’t just leave it. I hadn’t been happy since you…’

I wrap my arms around his waist and cry harder.

‘I’m - so, so sorry,’ I stammer. ‘For forgetting you. Oh my God! I slapped you! I’m so sorry!’

‘Shhhh…’

‘No, I can’t think how I’d have felt if I remembered some day, but it was too late. I’m falling apart right now, and you’re right here. Thank you….thank you so much for being here.’

He rests his head on my own and I feel him smile into my hair.

‘Do you know how hard it’s been, not being able to just grab you and kiss you, not being able to hold you the way I want to? At first I wasn’t going to come back - it seemed easier on you, but just knowing you were here not hating me…I couldn’t leave it. I had to try at least. I was just going to start over…but what if you only loved me because I was William Beckett? I wanted to be Will to you…only Will.’

I laugh weakly. ‘Like when I told you that you were William Beckett at the concert and you had a go and said you were Will. I was like, alright picky.’

He laughs, and my tears dry up as I roll back onto my back. Putting my hands to the sides of his face again, I pull his head down, pressing my mouth to his hungrily. He smiles, opening his mouth ever so slightly, flicking his tongue with mine playfully before pulling away. He grins widely.

‘Mmm…you taste of Oreos.’