I Don’t Love You, I Don’t Remember You, I Don’t Need You

I stayed in my room all day, listening to the noise outside. Amber had the TV blasted so loud the walls shook, walking around in heels on the hardwood, laughing and talking to herself like she owned the place. She even opened Manuel’s expensive red wine to drink with fried chicken. Every single thing she did would’ve made him furious in the past. I remembered the cold stares, the clipped words, the way he’d stop me if I even breathed wrong. And now, I heard him quietly tell her, “Eat slowly. Nobody’s going to take anything from you. Relax, I’ve got it.”

I didn’t leave until dinner. When I got to the table, it was already set with plates of food, and Amber was sitting next to Manuel, grinning like the queen of the house. “Manuel, look at this, I can’t believe you remembered all my favorites! The fried chicken just the way I like it, and this wine, perfect pairing, you’re so amazing.”

“Yes,” he said softly, “I remembered everything you like, down to the smallest detail. I want tonight to be perfect for you. You’ve had a rough couple of weeks and I want to make sure you’re comfortable, okay?”

Amber’s eyes sparkled and she turned toward me, calling, “Sister, come on, don’t just stand there, join us! There’s plenty for everyone. Manuel’s been so thoughtful setting all this up. Don’t you want some too?”

I walked to the other end of the table quietly, feeling like I had wandered into someone else’s life by accident.

I picked up a piece of food, tried to take a bite, and felt my throat itch. I frowned and tried another dish, but the burning, prickling feeling only got worse.

“Sister, what’s wrong?” Amber exclaimed suddenly. “Why are your hands all red? Are you allergic to something? You’re scratching and I can see the rash spreading—oh my God, do you need help?”

I looked down. My arms were covered in angry red rashes. My chest felt tight, my breaths coming fast, and I tried to speak but nothing came out. I barely managed to point to my bag where the emergency meds were.

Amber jumped up, almost knocking her chair over, and ran toward my bag, but she stumbled and spilled a bowl of scalding soup right onto my arms. “Ah! Oh my God!” she screamed. The burning pain shot through me, and tears ran down my face before I even realized it.

I saw Manuel moving quickly, but not toward me. He was holding Amber, checking her hands like she was the most precious thing in the world. “Did you burn yourself? Fuck! I told you to be careful! How could you be so careless?”

My vision blurred. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was him carrying her away.

...

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The nurse was changing my IV drip. “Your allergy was so severe you could have died. You also have second-degree burns. And no one has come to see you in four days. Why hasn’t anyone come for you? Does your family not know?”

I opened my mouth, but then heard whispers outside.

“I heard President Davenport booked the entire floor?”

“Yes, all because Miss Moore got burned. He’s spoiling her so much, if I’d come a little later her wounds might have healed by now. Can you believe it?”

“She’s so lucky. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I had someone do all this for me.”

I closed my eyes slowly. “I… I have no family.”

The nurse hesitated for a second and then quietly left.

The ward had been quiet for a while when my phone buzzed. I fumbled to answer it, and a frail but strong voice came through.

“Rora it’s me, Grandpa.”

I froze. The Davenport patriarch, the only elder in my diary who’d ever been kind to me, was on the line.

“Rora I know what’s been happening lately,” he said, his voice tight with worry. “You’ve been through too much. Now that Manuel has married you, he has to treat you right. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one mistreats you.”

I felt a tingle in my nose and my chest ached in a way I hadn’t felt in years. I almost cried. “No need, Grandpa, I’m fine.”

“You’re heartbreaking Rora” he said, sighing. “You’re supposed to be this young lady from a rich family, and yet look at you. Abducted as a child, ignored by your own parents, while they spoiled their adopted daughter instead. And Manuel…” His voice faltered for a second, thick with frustration and sorrow. “You’ve done everything for him. Learned every massage technique he liked, hunted down rare tea sets from cities away, stayed up for days when he was hospitalized, handled his mother’s funeral on your own. And he treats you like you’re nothing. He’ll regret it, I swear.”

I stared blankly at the white ceiling. None of it made sense anymore. I didn’t remember any of it. But hearing him describe it, the way he had been cold, the way I’d given everything, my chest ached like someone was squeezing it.

“Alright, Grandpa’s checking out now,” he said finally. “Remember, if you need anything, just call me. I’ll be there.”

The call ended, and moments later the ward door opened. Manuel appeared, every bit as immaculate as always, sharp suit, cold eyes, and that faint air of superiority.

“You had an allergic reaction, tried to kill yourself, and then went running to my grandfather for comfort,” he said, voice low and mocking. “Besides threatening suicide and calling Grandpa, do you have any other tricks up your sleeve to get my attention?”

I wanted to explain, but his eyes made me shrink. I whispered, “I didn’t mean to commit suicide… I just forgot I’m allergic to peanuts.”

“Forgot you’re allergic to peanuts?” he sneered, stepping closer. “Why don’t you just tell me you forgot who you even are?”