Page 69 of Forgotten
Except.
Except.
First, it’s Ford.
Then, it’s Sydney and Darshi, who have come back to England after their travels in India and according to Thanny, I spend way too much time with them. Why? Am I not happy at home? Thanny cries one evening and begs me to stop seeing them, so that I can spend more time with him, all my time with him. So for a while, I do.
Until Sydney shows up at my door one day, pounding until I let him in.
“What the actual fuck, Ash? You disappeared. Darshi thought you died, she’s losing her mind. And Ford hasn’t heard from you either. What the fuck?”
Thanny is not home that day but I’m scared he’ll come back anytime. So instead of inviting Sydney in and explaining to him that yes I’m okay, yes I’m alive andhappy and oh Lord, Darshi should really stop worrying. I tell Sydney that he needs to leave.
And Sydney puts up a fight. He pushes past me and sits on the orange couch in the living-room, insisting I talk to him. “I didn’t stay friends with you through puberty only to be dumped when I’m about to become a father for the second time. If Darshi was here right now she’d beat your stupid arse, and you know it. What the fuck is happening, Ash?”
At that, I stop. Darshi is pregnant again? Where have I been, how could I have missed this?
So that day I tell Sydney about Thanny, I finally admit how jealous he gets. But I add that it’s only because Thanny loves me and he wants to protect me and spend all of his time with me.
Sydney gives me a look but doesn’t comment. “I’m worried. But I trust you, Ash. Just don’t disappear okay? We want you to be in our lives.”
I nod and for the next year, once every month, I sneak out to meet them and their babies and I try to be the best uncle I can. Every week I text Sydney and Darshi letting them know that I’m alright, I’m happy.
Although, I’m not quite sure I’m happy.
Writing a PhD is a full time job and keeping Thanny happy is another full time job. The only difference is that Thanny is never giving me a break. He’s never done; period; next chapter.
We celebrate New Year’s Eve together, cheering for 2022. Thanny kisses me at midnight and I tell him that I love him, but deep down I know I don’t really. I don’tlove him when he tells me what to eat. I don’t love him when he says that Preston is hotter than me, that Morgan should lose weight and I don’t love him when he pushes me to go back to my parent’s house and speak with them. Thanny kisses me at midnight and he tells me he loves me but does he really? Does he love me when he holds my hip so tightly it bruises just because I chatted with the waiter? Does he love me when I get home late and he gives me the silent treatment because he was lonely? Does Thanny love me when he says I’m everything he’s ever dreamed of but I should cut my hair shorter, do push-ups more regularly and stop reading so many stupid books?
The next day I leave the house for a walk. It’s the new year and I’m thinking about becoming a new person. And as I’m lost in my thoughts in the centre of Sheffield, something unprecedented happens.
“Ash?” Someone calls my name from a distance.
I would recognise that voice anywhere.
“Ford?”
In January 2022 we’ve been living in the same city for over a year and a half and incredibly our paths have never crossed.
Until now.
TheI love youfrom last night echoes in my mind and when I see Ford, I remember why I don’t love Thanny. How can I love someone who is not Ashford Hale?
Ford appears in front of me in a thick winter coat and a beanie and I want it gone. I need to see his red curls, I need to feel them between my fingers again. Hisbeard is cut short yet his dimples aren’t showing. He’s watching me with a serious expression, almost angry. He’s alone, hands shoved in his pockets, and from the white sky, snow starts falling.
“Hey,” Ford says and I follow one snowflake until it rests on his shoulder. I wonder if he’s gained more muscle or if the coat is that thick.
I must be quiet a little too long, because Ford comes closer and clears his voice. “Hey, are you okay?” Placing a hand on my arm, Ford shakes me softly.
“Yes, yes. Hi. It’s been a while,” I respond, and Ford smirks, revealing teeth and dimples and lines on his face that were not there last time I saw him.
“That it has. I was starting to think you’d moved away.” He teases as the snow starts falling more heavily. His beanie is crowded with snowflakes and I want to count each of them singularly.
I shake his hand off my arm and take a step back. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“We haven’t talked in months,” Ford says and that’s an understatement. It’s been over a year. I have missed him so much, I’m sure there’s a Ford-shaped hole in my chest. But while Sydney has come around my house and fought for me, Ford has simply disappeared.
And no matter how cold it is outside, a heat rises in my chest to my cheeks, painting them red. “Oh, I thought you didn’t notice.” I snap at him, unsure why.
