What A Year

Her, Guadalupe's pov

The first thing I notice as I wake up is the soft bed beneath me.

Then—a beeping to the right.

The air I’m breathing smells like wet grass.

I don’t open my eyes, yet I can see where I am.

A hospital room.

The scent in the air is coming from a man sitting in the only chair here.

Panic bubbles inside as I try to recall some memory of him.

As my breathing increases, a new sound comes from the machine and the man opens his eyes.

Finally, I open mine. His eyes—light hazel—seem to swim with emotion, though I’m not sure why.

“Hi,” he says, cheerfully walking over to me as I sit up.

Then, a pull on my heart— but not because of him, I can tell that much.

“Do you know where you are?” he asks.

I look around. “A hospital?”

He sits at the edge of the bed, facing me. “Yes, and do you know who I am?”

I tilt my head, hoping to find something in this empty brain.

“No. I don’t know who you are—but,” I look down at my hands, away from his intense stare. “I don’t know who I am either. There’s nothing,” I whisper.

He stands and turns, but not before I see something in him break. “Is there anything you do remember?”

Closing my eyes, I push through thick fog. Finally, something, “I only remember hearing ‘Guadalupe’. Am I Guadalupe?”

He nods his head and goes to sit.

Part of me wants to go to him—comfort him—but, something deep inside says I shouldn’t.

As I run my fingers through my hair, memories suddenly rush forward—me and him.

Moments of us, together. They feel familiar, but misplaced.

Not sure how I got these images, I picture myself walking up to a door and turning a key.

The flood stops.

And how do I even know how to do that?

Just as I go to ask a question, a petite woman walks in and stops.

She’s not breathing. Does she know she’s not breathing?

He closes the door and taps her shoulder, and she comes to life.

“Do you remember anything?” she demands.

I stare back at her and shake my head no.

Who is she?

“I think I’ll go down and check on Lola while you two talk.” He vibrates with emotion.

Almost like he can’t decide to leave or stay.

What’s he running away from?

“Victor, please be careful,” she calls out as he leaves.

Victor.

The name scratches something in my mind, something I can’t quite grasp.

Strangely, being alone with her isn’t uncomfortable. “And who are you?” I finally ask.

Her brown eyes flash violet—just for a second—then change back.

Something presses against my thoughts, another scratch.

“I’m your mom, Tonya.” She says with a big smile that softens her features.

She then points to her head, “And that was me trying to read your memories.”

My memories?

I swing my legs over the bed— a feat in itself now that I feel stiffness in my bones.

Without thinking, I pat the space next to me, inviting her to sit. When she does, I lay my head on her shoulder.

This feels nice. She sighs and rests her head against mine.

Can I read her memories?

Her phone vibrates, and she answers a text. When she finishes, I lift my head. “What happened to me?”

As she’s about to answer, my heart flops in my chest—someone knocks.

I reach out to stop her. Whoever is behind that door, the tugging on my heart is for them.

She pats my hand. “It’ll be okay.”

The smell of ocean breeze fills the room when she opens the door.

“Sebastian, what can I do for you?” she asks.

“I know she’s awake, Tonya,” he’s saying. “Can I see her, please?”

His voice, like a warm hug.

She glances at me, her eyes flashing again, then lets him in.

He’s a little taller than Victor, and as we lock gazes, something clicks into place.

Why wasn’t he the first person I saw when I woke up?

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you two, Guadalupe. I just had to see for myself that you were truly awake.”

Tonya taps furiously at her phone—clearly unimpressed.

When he says my name, I know it was him I heard earlier.

“Apologies, Tonya. Please continue.” He says.

Her face softens a little as she speaks to me. “Victor Delacruz, who was in here with you earlier, is your boyfriend, your mate.”

Mate? What is that?

She briefly looks to Sebastian, “And your other visitor here is Sebastian Hernandez—a friend of yours.”

A friend? That’s it?

A phone rings in his pocket. He ignores it and stands.

“I have to leave, but I’ll be nearby, should you need me.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

My body aches to lean into it—but again, something in me holds back.

He leaves, taking the ocean air with him.

Tonya stares at me. “What was that?” She asks, confused.

As she speaks, another tickle brushes my mind. Ignoring it, I ask, “So I’m guessing we’re magical or something?”

She nods. “What did you say Victor was to me?”

“Your boyfriend and mate. The one person who holds the other half of your heart.”

Again, a very faint scratch at my brain, followed by a very subtle click.

Closing my eyes, I visualize a small bag in my hand and toss it into the air.

Quickly, I build a brick wall around myself—mentally—solid and impenetrable.

“What just happened?” she asks carefully as I open my eyes.

Not revealing too much I say, “Just a headache. It’s a lot to process.”

She comes to hug me and I don’t pull away. “I’ll bring you something light to eat.”

When she leaves, I lie back on the bed, letting it all replay.

I have no memories. I feel something for someone who isn’t mine, and nothing for the one who is.

I feel like I’m missing so many important pieces.

Suddenly, the room fills bright with lights and a tall woman appears.

Her long hair moves from a breeze I can’t feel. Her silver eyes bore into me.

Her presence doesn’t scare me.

Instead, it feels familiar.

She’s speaking without moving her lips, but I hear her:

“Guadalupe Jimenez, a magical debt has followed you through time and is here to take payment. Who is with you and who will rise at your downfall?”

She fades as Tonya enters the doorway. “I brought you some soup and Jell-O. You’ll want to take it easy on your stomach.”

I expect her to say something— anything— about what she just walked into.

“Tomorrow, around lunch, Victor and his uncle will stop by,” she continues.

I sit up to eat.

All too happy to ignore what I just encountered and not reveal anything to her.

But, I do have questions.

“If Victor and I are mates, shouldn’t I remember him? Or at least feel something?”

She stares off at something I can’t see and stays quiet.

Taking my now-empty tray, she says softly, “We’ll find all the answers tomorrow—together.”

She tucks me in and kisses me good night.

I drift off to sleep thinking of silver eyes and the ocean air.