CHAPTER 15: FRIENDS YET ENEMIES

The toy

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Suddenly, I regretted why I hid in the closet. I should have jumped out— should have risked breaking my leg.

I closed my eyes, and the taste of fear—metallic and bitter—lingered on my tongue as I awaited my end.

“Ariel,” his surprisingly soft voice called out.

I opened one eye before the other, sizing the huge man before me.

“It’s me, Tony your neighbor.” He scoffed jokingly. “I mean your former neighbor.”

He stared at the knife before tossing it to the floor. “Sorry, I must have scared you. I saw a car packed outside, and I thought it was one of those junkies that come around.”

I was still too stunned to speak; fear was still coursing through my veins.

“Aria” He asked. Noticing I flinched at the mention of the name, he apologized. "Sorry, I thought it was Ariel. Cause of the hair.”

I stepped out of the closet and dusted off the cobwebs draping my outfit. Turning to him, “the hair?”

“Ariel loved her hair long, and you, you know, you loved yours short.” He explained.

I smiled at him sheepishly, not knowing how to tell him. I couldn’t remember him since I lost my memory, and from the way he spoke, I assumed he knew us well.

“Would you like to have a drink? There’s a bar not too far from here. I mean, if you are not busy.” Tony dipped his hands into his pocket.

I had taken a day off, so I wasn’t busy.

"No, I’m not,” I replied. I wanted to turn him down, but aside from my aunt, I haven’t had anyone ask about my past. If he knew I liked my short hair, he should know me well enough.

“That's great.” He smiled and led me out of the room.

*****

“Wow, that must be tough. So you can't remember anything?” Tony's voice echoed in the empty bar.

“I remember some things, but anything about my past or the accident is just a blur. The memories are in bits and pieces,” I explained.

“When I came back to town and heard about Ariel’s death, I thought you guys had moved out.” He continued, “I had no idea you were in a coma all this time.”

The waiter arrived with Tony’s beer and my soft drink. I smiled and took a sip.

“You're Aria,” he chuckled. “For a moment, I thought you were Ariel. It’s amazing how much you two look alike.”

My heart sank at his words, recalling how everyone adored Ariel and seemed to despise me. I bet a part of him wishes I had died instead of Ariel.

“Why do you say that?” I forced a smile.

“Ariel loved alcohol. But you? Alcohol always seemed like poison to you. You’d never drink, no matter how hard we tried to get you to.”

And yet Damon had turned me into an alcoholic. I bet Ariel would be proud of that.

“So, what brought you back to Warwick?” Tony asked, taking a sip of his beer and making a noise of satisfaction.

“Answers.”

“To what?”

“To fill this gaping hole,” I replied, fidgeting with my fingers. “I lost my sister, yet I can’t even mourn her because I can’t remember who she was.”

I sighed heavily and took another sip of my drink, wishing it could fill the hole in my heart.

“Aunt Mary said we were like cat and mice. We never saw eye to eye and always quarreled,” I added.

Tony laughed. “That’s true. You were practically jealous of her,” he blurted out. “I mean, you admired her.”

“So, tell me what you know about us.”

“Us?” He coughed, hitting his chest, as he choked on his drink. “I thought you forgot about your past. How do you remember us?”

My eyes widened. I wasn’t referring to me and Tony, but to Ariel and me. If Tony and I were an item, why would he mention Ariel first? He did say it was because of the hair. But wouldn’t he call my name first if we had dated? A flurry of thoughts swirled in my mind.

“I was talking about Ariel and me,” I clarified. “Wait, did we date?” I asked.

“Nah,” Tony dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

“So, what happened between us?” I was curious to know.

Tony shifted in his seat. “Nothing. And about Ariel and you, you know the basics. You were friends, but still enemies.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go. It was nice catching up with you. I’ll tell my brother I met you he wouldn’t believe it” He gulped down the rest of his beer, dropped some cash on the table, and dashed out.

I couldn't tell if he had something to do or if he got nervous when I asked about us.

“We were friends and enemies,” I mumbled, trying to wrap my head around it.

Well, there was only one way to find out. No one knew me better than myself. My eyes fell on the diary. It was a big book, like one of those huge fantasy novels with maps and character pictures. It was something I couldn’t finish reading in weeks.

Was I such a huge fan of writing?

I sighed, picked up my diary, and dropped my number with the bartender to give to Tony before leaving the bar.

****

One hand glued my phone to my ear, and the other key in the password to my apartment.

“How did it go?” Jessie asked.

“I saw the diary,” I replied, nudging the door shut with my foot before kicking off my shoes.

“So, have you read it?” she inquired.

I walked to the living room and tossed my bag onto a chair. I placed the diary on the table, snapped a picture of it, and sent it to her.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed. “That’s a history textbook you’ve got there.”

I laughed, never having thought of it that way.

“You won’t finish that for months. Were you planning on releasing an autobiography?” Jessie teased.

“Definitely not,” I laughed, making my way upstairs to my room.

“What about Logan?” she asked.

With a soft smile, I recounted our date to her while undressing.

“Wow! He said you could use him however you want.” Jessie sounded excited, though I couldn’t quite understand why.

“Then use him. He’s permitted you,” she insisted. “Ari, can I call you back?”

“Sure,” I responded, collapsing onto my bed.

Lying there, I tried to figure out what Tony meant to me. I couldn’t shake the thought; I tend to latch onto things until they consume me.

My phone chimed; it was a notification from one of those media outlets I subscribed to.

‘Damon Wesley celebrates his fiancée’s birthday.’

It was posted four hours ago.

With a heavy heart, I clicked on it. His amber eyes gazed at her like she was his world; his hands—the same hands that sent sparks through me—were holding hers. The smile that painted my face red—he was letting her have it. My hands trembled, and tears blurred my vision as I watched him pull her close. When his lips, which I thought were meant for me, touched hers, my heart stopped. I pounded my chest, trying to breathe.

With quick steps, I marched to the kitchen, grabbed his wine bottles one by one, and hurled them at the wall, shattering them into pieces. I opened the last bottle and drank straight from it, the bitter taste burning down my throat. Tony had said nothing could make me drink, but he didn’t know about Damon. I gulped the alcohol like it was a refreshing drink.

I stormed back to my room, flung open the wardrobe, and threw all his clothes out the window. I collapsed into the chair next to the mirror, staring at my sorrowful reflection, my tears smudging my eyeliner. I looked at my hair, remembering how Damon had once complimented it.

I pulled out the scissors from the drawer, grabbed a handful of hair, and started cutting it aggressively, letting the strands fall to the floor. I screamed as the scissors got tangled, wincing as I yanked them free and flung them across the room. I shattered the mirror with the bottle, ran my hands through my disheveled hair, and finally broke down into proper tears. I wanted to rip out my heart since it refused to stop loving him.

Lost in my sorrow, I heard the doorbell ring.

I rushed downstairs and opened the door. My eyes widened, and I held my breath. A man I had never seen before stood there, his face marked by an X-shaped scar and one eye missing, sending shivers down my spine. I tried to close the door, but he stopped it with his foot.

I darted back to the kitchen, remembering my phone was there, as his heavy footsteps thundered behind me.

I winced as I stepped on the shards of the broken bottles, regret instantly swelling up—I shouldn’t have broken them.

My ringtone caught my attention—it was Logan.

“Please call 911!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the apartment as the man grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the living room.

I tumbled, hitting my head on the sturdy wood table. Slowly, my consciousness began to fade as the man approached me.

When my eyes fluttered open, I was in Logan’s arms. My head throbbed, and my body felt heavy.

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” Logan said, gently tucking me into his car.

“What about the man?” I whispered.