Almost yours

ch-4 Boyfriend Duties

The door opened again.

I immediately closed my eyes.

Not because I was tired.

I just wanted to know what he would do if he thought I was asleep.

Footsteps came closer.

Then stopped.

Silence.

I waited.

Nothing.

Seriously?

I opened one eye slightly.

He was standing beside the bed, staring at me.

I quickly closed it again.

A few seconds later, I heard the chair move.

He sat down.

Still nothing.

What kind of fake boyfriend was this?

At least pretend properly.

Then I felt something being pulled over my shoulder.

The blanket.

My eyes opened.

He froze.

I stared at him.

He stared back.

“What are you doing?”

“The blanket was falling.”

“Oh.”

He immediately sat back.

I watched him carefully.

“You came back.”

“I said I would.”

That answer was strangely simple.

No excuse.

No unnecessary explanation.

Just I said I would.

I hated that I noticed the difference.

My actual boyfriend had made promises all the time.

I’ll call you.

I’ll come tomorrow.

I won’t forget.

Apparently promises were easy when you didn’t care about keeping them.

I pushed the thought away.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did you two fight?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Why would you think that?”

“You both looked like you wanted to punch each other.”

“That’s normal.”

I laughed.

He stared at me.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t know my boyfriend was funny.”

“I’m not.”

“Clearly.”

He sighed.

A nurse entered before he could answer.

She checked the IV and then looked at him.

“Family?”

He opened his mouth.

I answered first.

“Boyfriend.”

His head turned toward me so fast I almost laughed.

The nurse smiled.

“Oh. Then make sure she doesn’t try to get out of bed unnecessarily.”

I looked away.

Oops.

His eyes immediately narrowed.

“You got out of bed?”

“No.”

The nurse looked at me.

I looked at her.

She looked at him.

Traitor.

“She shouldn’t be walking alone yet,” she said. “She was dizzy earlier.”

His expression changed.

“How do you know she was dizzy?”

“Her blood pressure dropped when she stood up.”

I suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.

The nurse left.

Silence.

Dangerous silence.

“You got out of bed.”

“I was bored.”

“Where did you go?”

“Nowhere.”

He stared.

I smiled.

“Why are you interrogating someone with memory loss?”

“You have a head injury.”

“A small one.”

“You were unconscious for almost a day.”

“So?”

“So stop behaving like you’re indestructible.”

I blinked.

That sounded suspiciously like real concern.

He seemed to realize it too because he looked away.

“I mean… anyone would say that.”

“Right.”

I smiled slowly.

“Anyone.”

He ignored me.

Good.

Let him suffer.

A little while later, my stomach made a very embarrassing sound.

His eyes dropped toward me.

I pretended not to notice.

Another growl.

Wonderful.

He stood.

“Hungry?”

“No.”

My stomach answered for me.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Your stomach disagrees.”

“It has always been dramatic.”

He picked up his phone.

“What do you want?”

“Food.”

“What food?”

“Good food.”

His expression went blank.

“That’s very helpful.”

I smiled.

“Boyfriend duties.”

He looked like he regretted every decision that had brought him into this room.

“What do you normally eat?”

I almost answered automatically.

Then stopped.

Right.

Amnesia.

I shrugged.

“I don’t remember.”

His eyes narrowed.

Oops.

Technically, I had said I remembered everything except people.

“Food isn’t a person,” he said.

Caught.

For half a second, panic flashed through me.

Then I frowned dramatically.

“Maybe the accident made me forget my favorite food too. Are you a doctor now?”

He stared.

I stared back.

Finally, he shook his head.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet you dated me.”

He had no answer for that.

He walked outside.

Twenty minutes later, he returned carrying a food container.

The smell reached me before he did.

I looked at the bag.

Then at him.

Then back at the bag.

No.

There was no way.

He placed it on the table.

I opened the container.

My favorite pasta.

Exactly the way I liked it.

Extra cheese.

No olives.

I slowly looked at him.

“How did you know?”

His hand stopped.

“What?”

“That I like this.”

A tiny pause.

“Your boyfriend told me.”

Which boyfriend?

The real one?

Possible.

But my actual boyfriend usually forgot my order even after three years.

This man remembered?

Maybe he really had asked him.

Or maybe…

No.

I was reading too much into everything now.

“Feed me,” I said.

He stared at me.

“What?”

I nearly laughed at his face.

“My shoulder hurts.”

“Your other hand works.”

I lifted my IV hand.

“This one?”

He closed his eyes.

For a moment, he genuinely looked like he was asking the universe why it hated him.

Then he picked up the fork.

I had expected him to refuse.

Now I was the one surprised.

He sat beside me and held out the first bite.

I looked at it.

Then at him.

“Are you trying to poison me?”

“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t waste good pasta.”

I laughed.

A real laugh this time.

Something changed in his face.

He just stared at me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He looked away immediately.

I took the bite.

Perfect.

I hated that too.

“Good?”

I nodded.

He gave me another bite.

Then another.

For a few minutes, neither of us spoke.

It felt strangely comfortable.

Too comfortable.

Then the door opened.

My actual boyfriend walked in.

And stopped.

His eyes moved from the fork in his best friend’s hand…

to me…

and back to him.

For the first time since this ridiculous game began, something flashed across his face.

Jealousy.

Oh?

Well, well.

Look who suddenly remembered he had a girlfriend.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

My fake boyfriend calmly put the fork down.

“Feeding her.”

“I can see that.”

“Then why did you ask?”

I nearly choked.

My boyfriend glared at him.

I hid my smile.

“Why are you back?” I asked.

His attention shifted to me.

“I came to check on you.”

“How sweet.”

He walked closer.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes. My boyfriend is taking good care of me.”

His jaw tightened.

Just slightly.

But I saw it.

Good.

My fake boyfriend saw it too.

Unlike me, he didn’t seem entertained.

He stood.

“I should go.”

My smile disappeared before I could stop it.

“You’re leaving?”

His eyes met mine.

“I have work.”

“Oh.”

Why was I disappointed?

This was ridiculous.

He wasn’t actually my boyfriend.

This entire thing was a lie.

Before he could leave, my real boyfriend’s phone vibrated.

He looked at the screen and quickly turned it over.

Too late.

I had already seen the name.

My best friend.

I smiled.

“Someone important?”

His eyes snapped toward me.

“No.”

Another lie.

My fake boyfriend’s expression hardened.

I leaned back against my pillow.

Fine.

Let them lie.

Every lie was simply giving me another reason not to feel guilty about what I was going to do.

My fake boyfriend walked toward the door.

“Wait.”

He stopped.

I smiled innocently.

“Will you come tomorrow?”

For a second, he said nothing.

My real boyfriend watched him.

I watched him too.

Finally, he nodded.

“Yes.”

My heart did something stupid.

I ignored it.

“Promise?”

His eyes stayed on mine.

“I promise.”

Then he left.

I watched the closed door longer than I should have.

My actual boyfriend sat in the chair he had just left.

The same chair suddenly felt different with him in it.

“You seem comfortable with him,” he said.

I turned toward him.

Was that irritation in his voice?

Interesting.

“I thought he was my boyfriend.”

“He is.”

“Then shouldn’t I be comfortable with him?”

He had trapped himself.

Again.

I smiled.

He didn’t.

For the first time, I realized something.

My boyfriend had created this game because he thought he controlled every piece.

Me.

My best friend.

His best friend.

Even the truth.

But he had made one mistake.

He had given me a fake boyfriend.

And now he was already uncomfortable watching me treat him like a real one.

I looked toward the door again.

Maybe this game was going to be much more interesting than I thought.