My first reflex is to snap at Nadine for the insensitive remark. Unfortunately, though, she’s probably right.
“The doctor reassured us and explained there could be several reasons. But it’s a difficult situation, because the things Jo’s forgotten are really essential. She … well, I’m feeling really desperate right now. We just had a fight, and I left.”
“You left? Did you leave her?”
“Leave her? No. I … I left the house because I felt like I needed to be alone.”
“Oh … That doesn’t sound good at all. I did see it coming though, remember? I’ll admit, I feared from the very start it wouldn’t work with the two of you. Because you still have feelings for me, Erik. But you’d never admit that to yourself, because then you’d have to accept the whole thing with Jo was a mistake.”
“No, for God’s sake. I just needed to talk to someone.”
There’s a short pause.
“Erik?”
“Yes?”
“My door’s always open for you, I just want you to know that.”
“This again, really? I love Jo. That hasn’t changed.”
Her voice has an edge now. “You think you love her. But you don’t really. You’re only using it as an excuse because you hope it’ll help you get over the two of us, but it’s not going to work. And she doesn’t love you either, Erik. Not like I do. I’d never forget anything to do with you. Not for a single second.”
“OK. Let’s stop this. I’m going to go back now.”
“Wait,” she says hurriedly. “Don’t hang up. There must be a reason you called me. You were thinking about when we were together, right? How good we had it and how much we loved each other.”
“Come on, Nadine, that’s just…”
“No, listen to what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve been holding it back for more than a year now. Every day I see you at work, and it stings me every time. And the only thing that lets me endure it is the certainty that one day you’re going to realize how much there still is between us. And now you’re calling me because your Joanna forgot some things that concern the two of you. Is there anything worse you could do to your other half than forget the things you’ve shared?”
This call was most definitely not a good idea.
“Think about it, Erik. You really think she’s the right person for you? I don’t.”
“I do,” I say and hang up.
I hope, I think to myself.
It takes me a good fifteen minutes to get back to the house. Outside the front door I take a deep breath, then I step inside. I walk through the hall and into the kitchen. Even before reaching the passage to the living room I see Joanna lying on the floor. I freeze momentarily, then dash to her side. Her head is lying on a pillow, her eyes are closed.
“Jo! What’s the matter?”
I kneel down beside her, see her eyes flutter open, see her blinking at me.
“My God, I thought something had happened.” I put my hand on her head, wanting to stroke her hair, but Joanna groans and pushes my hand aside. “No, please…”
She raises herself up a bit, turns her face fully toward me. It’s only now that I see the swelling. It stretches down from her right temple to above her eye, giving her entire face a misshapen appearance.
“You’re hurt! What happened?”
“I tripped,” she explains, and sits up, her face twisted with pain. “The doorframe. I crashed into it with my temple.”
“Did you ice it yet? Do you want me to get ice from the kitchen?”
“No, leave it. I don’t want to touch it again.” Joanna lowers her gaze. “I think I did it on purpose.”
I don’t understand. “What? How do you mean, on purpose?”
Her eyes fix on me again. She looks awful. “Maybe I wanted to hurt myself.”
Now I get it. Oh no. Not this as well.
“But … If you did…” I shake my head. “How is this possible?”
“I don’t know.”
A thought flashes through my head. I stare at her. “Jo, you didn’t do this because we were fighting, did you? To punish yourself, or me? Something like that?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice is so quiet I don’t really hear what she says, but I can guess at it.
Inside me, the urge to take her into my arms fights against the voice telling me to call an ambulance and have her brought to a psychiatric clinic right away.
“All of this is very … difficult,” I say, and I can hear how weak my voice sounds. What I should really tell her now is that things will surely go back to the way they were and that I’ll stand by her. That we can get through anything together.
But I’m no longer certain. Utter chaos, not just in my head, but in my heart as well. Things are no longer like they were six days ago. Yes, I love her. I want to love her. Despite everything. But I’ve got no idea if I’ll have the strength to do so much longer. And if it’s my presence that’s making her do all this—
“How would you feel about me checking into a hotel? Maybe for a couple days? So you get a chance to straighten yourself out? Maybe you’ll remember me again if you don’t see me every single day?”
I’m completely aware how idiotic that sounds, but I don’t have any other ideas right now. The look in Joanna’s eyes changes, but the swelling makes it difficult to read her expression.
“Don’t do that, please. Not now.”
“I get the impression I’m only making things worse for you right now.”
“No. When you showed up here five days ago I was scared. But right now I feel safer when you’re here with me.”
“I didn’t show up five days ago. I’ve been living here for more than six months. With you.”
“Yes, OK. Still, for me you’ve only been here for five days. Come on, it’s not my fault. Erik…”
“What do you want from me, Jo? For days you’ve been telling me to go away. And when I finally realize, after these five shitty days, that it would probably be the best thing for me to do, all of a sudden you’d prefer it if I stayed. I can’t deal with this constant back and forth anymore.”
She reaches for my hand. I’m suddenly aware it’s the first time she’s done that since the start of all this. Is it because she really wants me near her? Or does she have an ulterior motive?
“Stay. Please. Let’s talk to each other. OK?”
“How long for? Until you tell me to go away again? I promise you one thing—the next time I will. For good.”
19
He stays. And if I’m being honest with myself—I wouldn’t have known what to do if he had gone. Apart from, maybe: call an ambulance. Have myself committed after all, but I’m still afraid of that option. I don’t want people feeding me pills to keep me under control; I want to know what’s wrong with me.