Dedicated to all my wonderful readers. I love you all

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Do you know that feeling when you hate something only when that thing is in your presence but can't seem to stop thinking about that thing when you're not together? Well that's exactly how I feel right now.

Not that I was finding that particular place appealing or anything but there I was nevertheless and the sad thing was, I liked being there no matter how much I try not to. And that I realise was pissing me off.

I hate feeling weak and defenseless and that place right now was making me feel them both, epically.

It's been two weeks since I last saw Aman and God help me I can't stop thinking about him.

He had left the hospital that day, just as I had requested and also like a good boy, never turned his back again, not once, not even a text message. He had simply disappeared and I can't help the feeling of disappointment that has suddenly enveloped my being.

I don't know. I guess I just expected more from him especially if I remember what we had survived together like he would have tried harder; not his half ass attempts so far, like really truly tried.

But no, he had ran off like the coward he was, like the coward he had always been.

However the most annoying part of it all is realizing I cared, much more than I expected and I found that to be unsettling especially since I can't seem to stop thinking about him all the time

To make matters worse, reading no longer appealed to me anymore. It simply reminded me of him and since I didn't want to go down that path again, I stayed clear of anything that would, even remotely, remind me of him.

And with my memories betraying me at every turn, serving me a daily dose of our good times in lumps like a goddamn blockbluster, what else am I suppose to do?

Maybe if Hanna was here or that I wasn't trying very hard not to think about Jabir, I wouldn't be in this state. But Hanna had visited her grandparents and incredulously as it might sound, there was no network in the village where they lived and Jabir hadn't spoken to me in ten days, since the day I was discharged and he'd brought me home. He had been a bit cold and distant that day too, acting all weird and he didn't even stay behind even though I had insisted and that was a first. Jabir never turns me down. He just never.

I should have known something was up then and insisted he did, but no, I had let him leave, like the fool I was and I couldn't even call him later even though every cell in my body had practically begged me too. I had justified my actions by thinking he was just having a hard time and probably wants to be left alone. But who thinks like that, right? I was his girlfriend, scratch that, his fiancée, I had after all accepted his proposal, and I had let him walk. What a crap load of shit I am.

And he had disappeared the next day, after a single, measly, cryptic text message and just like that I haven't been able to get ahold of him.

Dad wants me home. I'll see you when I get back

And that's it. No I love you or I'll miss you, no nothing, just that his dad wants him home which by the way spelled trouble; his dad had never wanted him home, at least not after he married his stepmom. Something was up and it wasn't a good thing, I was sure of it. I could feel it.

And now in the process of distracting myself from everything that might have possibly gone wrong or happened to him for him not to have called me in ten days, I ended up with Aman and our past, talk about an evil vs more evil. However I don't like the way Aman had a way of consuming me even if it's just his memories. He shouldn't have that much control over me, not anymore.

But then here I was, lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling at eight pm on a Saturday night with my phone rested on my chest with no one to talk to, with no one to even call and I couldn't help but notice how sad and lonely my life had become. I didn't even realise that I had only five names on my contact list until today, three of which were currently not available and I absolutely didn't want to disturb the other two.

Pathetic, isn't it? No wonder I had feared losing my mind; I wasn't living, I had been merely existing.

What had happened to you, Reima?

The accident?

Honestly, I don't know what really happened. I wasn't exactly a social butterfly before my accident but at least I had people all around me, people I had strangely felt kin to. People who had my back and I had theirs. Something had clearly shut down after that. I had shut everyone out or rather my mind had created a defense mechanism to repel anything that could have been a reminder of my time with Aman. Hanna had been spared because she hadn't met him, she didn't even know his name; she knew about him of course, but they have never actually met. She didn't attend Wellspring high, she was sent to a boarding school.

I guess this explains why I had that feeling of being under the knife with Dr Ahmed. He knew, everything. Even what had happened with my dad. God, I can never face him anymore. I don't think I can. With my mom, I can keep acting clueless; she still doesn't know I had gotten back my memories, but with him I know I couldn't hide, he will wrench it out of me mercilessly and forced me to face them. And I don't want to.

Yes, being clueless was better especially if the memories you had forgotten had to do with you having to do something about your dad's death; the man you had loved more than life itself. No wonder ma had been indifferent when uncle Audu had all but dragged me away with him to Katsina. God, I hate myself and Aman more for making me remember. He could have stayed away and I might never have to confront these memories, but no, he simply had to waltzed back into my life and make everything worse again. God, I hate him.

But do you, I mean really, really hate him?

And I realized I don't even know anymore. However whenever I see him, I saw my dad's pained expression and his brokenness. I saw him lose faith in me. And I simply couldn't live with that.

He had been there that day, the day I had confronted Aman about lust being the only thing between us. Apparently someone had sent him a video and tipped him about my whereabouts that day. I still don't know who.

He had only one question for me that day;

"Did he rape you?"

I could have said yes, blame it all on Aman,it had after all started as rape, but I couldn't, I simply couldn't lie to the one person I had always told the truth. And I had broke him that day. It might not be a big deal nowadays but my father was well, religious and conservative, and he had brought me up that way, with those same deep values and I had broken our bond.

I tried to explain to him that it wasn't what he thinks, that I wasn't like that, but he had shut me out, I could feel it. My explanation had suck anyway and even to me sounded lame. Plus I know he didn't want to hear my reasons. He had always said reasons are for before, not after an action had been carried out. Everything else after are just excuses.

"Go home, Reima. We'll discuss it when I get home." He'd said finally

But he never made it home. My accident had happened and a few weeks later, he had been found dead by the roadside on a cold, rainy day. A week after I had made it home. A week after he had told me to always remember that I was his angel and he would always love me, always.

And I can never forgive myself

A/N

I feel very blessed to have all of you, my wonderful readers out there: silent and otherwise, it gives me courage and hope and strengthen my faith in myself.

It's been a long journey, right? Well, we just have three more chapters and it is over.

I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for believing in me.

THANK YOU & GOD BLESS