Anterograde Read online

  “Eli, I…” His voice breaks, and he has to try again. “I’m so—”

  “Shh,” Eli cuts in quietly as he stands again. “You don’t have to say anything. Turn around.”

  Calden does, and those same marvelous hands that scrubbed every inch of his front now rub against his back, ever so tender. Finally, Eli’s hands still, then come around to encircle Calden, much like they did in the park. Eli’s mouth presses to Calden’s back.

  “I love you,” he whispers. “Just don’t forget that, all right?”

  Something rocks Calden’s body; he couldn’t say if it’s a stifled laugh or an aborted sob.

  They stay like that for a little while, and Calden is acutely aware of the half-hard cock pressing against his ass. He’s just as aware that his own cock isn’t even half-hard. It doesn’t matter, he decides. He can just lie on his stomach, or get on his hands and knees, and Eli won’t even have to look at it. He’s not sure when it became about Eli, about giving something to Eli rather than trying to quiet his mind. It doesn’t matter either.

  When the water starts cooling down, Calden shuts it off and they step out of the tub together. Without a word, they dry each other before returning to the bedroom. Calden’s nervousness, chased away by Eli’s loving hands, returns stronger than earlier, and his heart stutters as he watches Eli approach the night table and open the drawer.

  “Do you trust me?” Eli asks as he faces Calden again.

  Unable to form words, Calden nods. Then he looks down, and realizes Eli isn’t holding what Calden expected. In one hand, he has a glass of water. In the other, two small, round white pills.

  “Take these?” he requests.

  Calden hesitates for a second—but really, why? Didn’t he just confirm that he trusts this man?

  He swallows the pills without looking at the markings on them, chasing them down with a gulp of water, and only then does he ask, “What are they?”

  Eli takes the glass from him and sets it down before climbing into bed. He holds the covers open, patting the mattress to invite Calden to join him.

  “Sleeping pills,” he says softly. “You’re going to go to sleep, and when you wake up, today will be gone. It won’t ever have happened.”

  Calden watches him for several seconds before climbing in. He lies there, on his back, hands knitted together on his stomach, confused and aching somewhere deep inside his chest.

  “Okay?” Eli asks after a moment.

  “I won’t remember it,” Calden says, “but you will.”

  “I will,” Eli repeats, throwing an arm across Calden’s chest. “I remember everything that you can’t, because I’m your memory now. Anything you need to know, I can tell you. And what you don’t need to remember, I can make disappear. And this? There’s no reason for you to remember this.”

  Calden shakes his head. “How is that fair?” he asks. “How is that fair for you? You get to remember I failed, and I—”

  “No,” Eli cuts in, his arm tightening slightly. “You didn’t fail. You’re human, Calden. I know you don’t like to be reminded of that tragic fact, but I assure you, you are human. And there’s only so much you can demand from your body before it fails you.”

  Calden wants to argue that’s the same thing, but his mind feels slow and he yawns widely. His eyes close. There was something else, though. Something nagging at him. Oh, yes…

  “You didn’t take me to bed,” he mumbles. “I wanted you to take me to bed.”

  Eli’s body shakes as he laughs quietly.

  “We are in bed, aren’t we?” he replies, and nudges Calden until he rolls onto his side, immediately pressing his body along Calden’s back.

  “But… sex.”

  In Calden’s mind, it’s a full sentence, a question, a protest, an offer. Maybe Eli understands because he kisses Calden’s shoulder.

  “We’ll have sex when we both want it,” he whispers. “Now sleep, love. We need rest.”

  Calden drifts off with a word of love lingering on his tongue.

  (next chronological chapter)

  August 15th

  Eli was growing more worried every day.

  For the past two months, things had progressively been getting better. Calden’s memory wasn’t improving one bit, of course not. The odds of that were infinitesimal, and Eli had talked himself out of hoping for a miracle. He’d already gotten one of those when Calden had overdosed; asking for two would have been downright greedy.

  Still, Calden’s day to day life—and by extension Eli’s—was getting easier.

  The tattoo and diary had helped tremendously. Combined, they allowed Calden to understand and accept his condition in just moments, and Eli didn’t have to rip his own heart out every other day anymore by telling him about it all.

  It also helped that Calden was growing into new sleep patterns that, although unusual, were familiar to him from his work at the hospital, and, more importantly, worked for him. He now usually remained awake for two days in a row before he grew tired and went to bed. Twice, during an extended demon attack, he’d stayed up to four days, although the possibility of hallucinations and worse made Eli deeply uneasy.

  Being back at the hospital and working was the most helpful part of it all. Every time Eli sat and watched Calden as he read his diary, he could tell the exact moment when Calden started to read about his work; the moment when he realized that the one thing he valued above all else was still within his grasp, even if his immediate memories weren’t. That was the moment when his body relaxed, and Eli could read what he imagined was relief on Calden’s features.

  But all the progress seemed to have come to a grinding halt. For the past few days, regardless of whether Calden caught some sleep or not, he seemed to be plagued with hallucinations. He refused to admit it was happening at all, of course. Whenever Eli caught him muttering under his breath or staring at nothing, he claimed he was just talking to himself or thinking aloud. Eli could almost have believed him if his mood had not been increasingly more volatile.

  That very morning, when Eli had come out of his room, he’d found Calden ready to leave for the hospital and annoyed that Eli was slowing him down. Eli was surprised Calden hadn’t run off on his own. He was not, on the other hand, surprised that Calden, as anxious as he was to be on his way, had not deigned to bother preparing coffee for Eli. Some things would never change.

  When they’d first walked into the staff room where Samford was reviewing videos, she’d been all smiles and happy to see them. Or at the very least, she’d been happy to see Calden. Of all the doctors in the hospital, other than Eli of course, she was the one Calden got along with the best, maybe because she’d been close to Calden’s father and Calden had a hard time being actively rude to someone he’d known all his life.

  She’d apparently called Calden that morning to ask if he’d help her review a few videos of surgery that hadn’t had the best of outcomes to see if they could figure out what had gone wrong exactly. After less than ten minutes in Calden’s company, however, her smile seemed a lot more strained. After twenty minutes, she started throwing Eli worried looks.

  It would have been hard for her not to notice that Calden kept hushing some unseen person in the room and berating them under his breath. Eli was debating whether to suggest they go home for Calden to get a bit of sleep—even though he’d only been up for a little over a day—when things took a drastic turn.

  All of a sudden, Calden pushed away from the conference table and jumped to his feet. He seized the notepad he’d been scribbling on and hurled it at the wall, shouting, “Liar! That’s not true!”

  Samford watched him, frozen in her seat, her mouth hanging open. Eli hurriedly stood and moved to place himself between Calden and Samford, both hands raised palms out in front of him.

  “Calden?” he said in as calm a tone as he could muster. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Shut up!” Calden shouted, but the words, like the cup of coffee Calden picked up, we
re thrown at the wall again. “Shut up! It wasn’t my fault! They didn’t tell me you were hurt. I didn’t choose!”

  If Eli had harbored any doubts about whose ghost was in the room with them, they’d have vanished at those words.

  “She’s dead, Calden,” Eli said, taking a cautious step toward him. “She’s been dead for almost three years, and you know it. Think.”

  Calden turned wild eyes toward him. They were circled by shadows deep enough to look like bruises. How could he look so tired when he’d been sleeping so regularly?

  Unless…

  Eli’s throat tightened as he realized Calden must have tricked him. Of course he had. The charade had been good, very good. Pretending to go to sleep in his bed instead of falling asleep on the sofa. Reading the diary every time he ‘woke up.’ Being careful to ask the same questions and not show he remembered things he shouldn’t…

  Only Calden would be so damn clever. And so damn stupid at the same time. Eli didn’t know whether to yell at him or simply roll his eyes.

  “How long have you been awake?” he asked, but Calden wasn’t listening. His attention was back on the wall. Back on his hallucination.

  “No, I couldn’t have,” he said again, pleading now. When he looked at Samford through those crazed eyes, she gasped. “Say it’s not true,” he demanded. “Say you tried your best. Say I couldn’t have done better.”

  “My… my best?” she stammered, pushing away from the table and getting to her feet. “My best for what?”

  Calden pointed at the blank wall. “Your best to save her. Say you didn’t let her die, Caroline. Say it!”

  He ended on a shout that clearly frightened Samford.

  “Let who die?” she asked, shaking. “I don’t understand!”

  With a wordless cry, Calden gripped the chair he’d vacated and threw it at the wall before Eli could step forward and stop him. Startled, Samford moved back, away from Calden, and doing so she tripped backward and fell. She hit the floor hard, her head striking the foot of the wall behind her.

  Cursing under his breath, Eli ran to her and knelt down. When he cupped the back of her head, he was relieved not to find blood, but she’d surely get a nasty bump.

  “I’m okay,” she mumbled as he helped her sit up. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re going to the ER,” Eli told her firmly, then turned a glare to Calden. “And you are going home and straight to bed before you hurt anyone else, you damn idiot!”

  But Calden wasn’t looking at Eli, never mind listening to him. His eyes were back to the now-dented wall and he was shaking his head, lips moving on the same muttered words over and over.

  “I didn’t. I didn’t know. I didn’t choose.”

  “Calden?” Eli said urgently, still kneeling by Samford. “Calden, look at me. Riley’s not here. I am. Look at me.”

  With obvious difficulty, Calden tore his gaze away from what wasn’t there and looked at what was instead. When his eyes fell on Samford, they widened and he shook his head, taking a step back.

  “I didn’t mean… Caroline, I didn’t…”

  “I’m fine,” she said with a wavering smile. “It’s okay, Calden. But you should listen to Eli and go home. Don’t you think?”

  Calden shook his head again, taking another step backward until his back was to the door. Without another word, he ran out, pushing past the few people who had assembled there when they’d heard the commotion.

  “Calden!”

  Eli’s shout remained unanswered. He started to stand, but hesitated as he considered Samford.

  “I’ll have someone walk me down to the ER,” she said. “Just go. Make sure he’s all right.”

  Eli didn’t need her to repeat it. He ran after Calden, catching just a glimpse of him entering the stairwell. A rush of fear coursed through him when he realized where Calden was going, and he ran faster. Why did they always have to end up on the rooftop?

  He reached the roof seconds after Calden and could have wept in relief when Calden was nowhere near the edge. Instead, he paced back and forth, hands pressed to his ears. He was right in the spot where Eli had found him, two years earlier, his heart already slowing down from an overdose, a syringe next to him, the phone with which he’d called Eli still in his hand. The memory slammed into Eli until he was sure he would be sick.

  “Not true,” Calden muttered. “You know it’s not. I didn’t choose. I couldn’t have, but I didn’t even know. I didn’t!”

  The last was an agonized shout as Calden grabbed his hair with both hands.

  “Calden,” Eli said quietly. “You need to calm down. I need you to calm down. You’re scaring the hell out of me.”

  Wide, bloodshot eyes settled on him. “Eli. Say you believe me, please.”

  “I believe you,” Eli replied automatically as he took slow, cautious steps toward Calden. “I have no idea what she is saying, but I do know one thing. She’d dead. I know that, and you know that. Don’t you?”

  Calden lowered his hands. His eyes were gleaming with tears. “I don’t know anymore. She knows me. She knows everything about me. She always did. What if she’s right? What if I just don’t want to remember she’s right?”

  “Does she know what you decided on June first?” Eli asked, taking yet another step closer.

  A jolt shook Calden’s body as though Eli had just hit him. He became very still and stared at Eli fixedly.

  “How do you know—”

  “Don’t ask me,” Eli tutted. “Ask your sister. Ask her what she knows about June first.”

  Calden didn’t say a word, but he turned his face slightly to Eli’s left, his eyes focusing on nothing.

  “She knows,” Calden said brokenly. “How does she know? I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell you. Did I tell you? How do you know?”

  “I don’t.” Eli raised a hand and curled his fingers around Calden’s wrist. “I have no idea what you decided on June first, because you wouldn’t tell me. You said if you couldn’t tell what was real or what wasn’t, I should mention that date. You said if whoever you saw knew about it, it proved that person was nothing more than a product of your mind because no one else knows. So now you tell me. Is your sister really here?”

  Calden looked at Eli, looked at the empty space next to him, then looked at Eli’s hand on his wrist, right below the tattoo exposed by his rolled sleeve.

  “Eli, I think I need to go home,” he said, trembling.

  Eli let out a shaky breath. “Yes, yes, you do, you idiot. Let’s go.”

  Eli didn’t let go of Calden’s wrist as they went down and retrieved his jacket. He had to let go in the car, but he held on to him again as soon as they arrived home. Only after closing the door behind them did he truly let go and say, “You’re going straight to bed. Up you go.”

  Calden’s answer was a shaky nod. He hadn’t said a word since the roof, although he sometimes mouthed words or shook his head. Eli followed him up to his bedroom. He stood by the door, arms crossed and staring at his shoes as Calden stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed.

  “How long?” Eli asked then, walking over to the window to close the curtains.

  “Nine days,” Calden murmured.

  Eli clenched his fists twice. “Why?”

  He knew the answer, but he needed to hear it.

  “I just had to know,” Calden said blankly. “I needed to know how long I could function.”

  Eli snorted. “I don’t call this functioning, Calden. You’ve been seeing her for days, haven’t you?”

  Calden was silent for so long that Eli thought he’d fallen asleep.

  “I could ignore her at first,” he finally said. “I knew she wasn’t there. But then. I miss her. I wanted her to be there, even when she said horrible things.”

  “And because you wanted her there, you couldn’t ignore her anymore,” Eli finished for him. “And you still didn’t think to yourself, ‘hey, maybe I should stop pretending and actually sleep.’”
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  “No. I told myself it was worth it if I got to remember a little longer.”

  Eli sighed. “Remember what, Calden?”

  “You. Remember that you live here now. That you… you take care of me. Even when I’m an idiot.”

  The words were unexpected. Calden resented being ‘taken care of’ with a passion. He allowed it because he understood it was necessary, but he was vocal in expressing how much he hated it. And now this…

  “You are an idiot,” Eli said gruffly as he walked to the door. “Sleep now.”

  “Could you…”

  Eli paused and looked back. Calden was little more than a shadow buried under the sheets at the far end of the bed.

  “Could I what?”

  “Stay? It’s easier to ignore her if you’re here.”

  After a second of hesitation, Eli walked back over, toeing his shoes off and sitting on the bed with his back to the headboard.

  “I’ll stay until you’re asleep,” he said quietly. “And then you’ll have a nice, long rest. And when you wake up, I am going to yell at you until I lose my voice, and it’s going to feel so, so very good.”

  Calden shifted under the sheets, turning to face Eli.

  “You’re going to yell at me for something I won’t remember?”

  “I most certainly will. And once you’re sufficiently chastised, I’ll make you write about it in your diary so you won’t play that stupid game ever again.”

  “Why not do it now?” Calden asked. “Get it over with.”

  “Because I don’t want to have to compete with a ghost for your attention. And because you should be sleeping already. Now shut up and close your eyes.”

  Calden did close his eyes, but after only seconds he was speaking again.

  “Threaten to leave,” he murmured. “If you want me to take you seriously, just say you’ll leave if I try this again.”

  Eli opened his mouth and closed it again without uttering a word. Was this it? The ultimate weapon against Calden’s stubbornness? A threat to leave him to his fate? Eli could never do it, but could he lie convincingly about it?