Without You

"Part Two"

By Kimber

Angie sighed and threw herself on the couch. She crossed her arms, and pouted.

"Ang? Angie?" Rollie’s voice called after her. He appeared in the doorway, a concerned look on his face. "What’s wrong?"

Angie began to weep. She shook her head. "Nothing."

Rollie sat beside her on the couch, and turned to face her. "Angie, please?"

Angie raised her gaze to meet him. "I … I’m just never going to remember."

"Ang," he put his arm around her shoulder. "We’ll keep trying."

"Don’t," she pulled herself away. "It’s just no use." She turned away from him. "Please leave me alone."

He got up, and knelt before her. "Ang, we’re not going to give up." He looked into her pale blue eyes, the one thing that Angie had valued the most. "You may not understand it yet, but we loved you a lot, and we would do anything to help you remember."

She got up from the couch and ran from the room. Rollie was about to follow her when he decided against it. He’d let her go cool off for a while, then go talk with her.

He ran his fingers through his hair, half frustrated with himself, half frustrated with Angie.

At first, when he had seen her again nearly a month ago, she had been willing to regain her memory. But as days passed, then weeks, she lost hope. She wanted to know more about her relationships with Lucinda and Mira. With men, with her Father, and with him. She kept insisting there was a part of her that felt he was special.

Yet he had turned her away again. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was right, that she did love him, and he … he loved her too.

But he knew there were consequences to her knowing. If he told her, he would feel obligated to tell her what he had done.

He knew that her first question would be "Why aren’t we together?" He’d be forced to retell how she had confronted him, and he had turned her away.

Rollie raced to the phone, and dialed Mira’s number.

"Sanchez," her voice came over the line.

"Yeah, Mira, it’s me."

She was silent before answering. "Rollie, hey! What’s up, you don’t sound too good to me."

"Nah, I’m fine," he sighed. "Hey, anything new from the Doc?"
"Still the same diagnosis as yesterday," Mira said. "And the day before that, too."

"Hmm," he sighed. "It’s just that I’m worried about Angie, y’know? I mean, she disappears for a few months, and you all think she’s dead. Then she turns up, but she isn’t Angie anymore."

"Listen, I know it’s hard on you, Rollie, but…" Mira began.

"Hard on me?" Rollie interrupted. "It’s hard on her! She’s given up hope; she keeps pushing me away, saying she’s just wasting my time. The Angie I knew would never give up."

"But Rollie, this isn’t the Angie you know."

Rollie was silent. "I suppose you’re right. But I know the true Angie is in there, sometimes I catch a glimpse of her. But she always disappears."

"Keep trying," Mira advised. "Don’t ever give up, okay? I gotta go now, Lord knows what Francis is up to!"

Rollie hung up and let out a sigh. What could he do for Angie to show her that he wouldn’t give up? To show that he cared.

An idea suddenly crossed his mid, something his father had done for him when his mother died.

On his way out, he passed the bedroom where Angie was staying. The door was shut, so he figured that she was inside sleeping.

He silently slipped away.

* * *

Rollie crept into the loft, not wanting to disturb Angie if she was still asleep.

"Don’t you say a peep," Rollie cautioned the puppy in his arms, who had decided at this very moment that she wanted to speak up. "Listen, you’re a surprise, don’t spoil it!"

The tiny puppy looked up at him; her silver eyes met his.

He tiptoed to Angie’s room, and stood outside. He couldn’t hear anything.

"Angie? Angela." He called, softly.

Still nothing.

He opened the door, and gently pushed it open. He spotted a lump beneath the covers, and grinned. He hated to wake her up, but there was always time to sleep.

He let the puppy go, and watched as she bounded onto the bed, running straight over to the lump.

The lump still didn’t stir. Rollie trotted over to the bed, and pulled back the covers.

"Angie, get up…" He let his voice drop.

The lump he’d seen hadn’t been Angie at all. It had been bunched up blankets and a pillow, most likely placed thee to fool him.

He looked quizzically at the blankets, and spotted a note. He picked it up and began to read,

"Dear Rollie.

I’m sorry I had to fool you like this, but it’s the only way I could buy myself time. When you read this, I will be gone already. Please just leave me be. I have caused everybody a lot of pain, and I really don’t want to do that. It’s obvious that my memory will not return, so I think I’ll just begin my life again, with new surroundings and new people.

I will never forget your kindness and perhaps someday I will return and we can be friends. That is what you want, right? Friends?

Angie"

Rollie dropped the note, tears stinging his eyes. He rapidly tried to think. Where would Angie go? The train station? No, she hated trains. The airport! That’s where she’d go.

He called to the puppy, and together the two of them hopped into his truck to find Angie.

* * *

Angie pulled the car over. She knew her flight wasn’t for a while and that gave her time to spare.

She got out of the car, and began to walk to the building in the distance. She couldn’t place it, but something was familiar about this place, something eerie.

Once she was within feet of the building, she stopped. The place looked like it had collapsed, its beams black with ash as though a mad fire had ripped through it. The ceiling was half on the ground, and half hovering, just feet above the ground.

Angie stepped toward the building, cautiously. Memories were flooding her mind, but they were coming much too fast for her to comprehend. Rollie. What had he said when he found her note? Would he even care?

Angie felt a tear slip down her cheek, remembering what Rollie had said earlier. "She isn’t Angie anymore." No, Angie thought, I’m not the Angie he used to know and love. But can’t he learn to accept me now?

She shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. No, it was too late to turn back now.

She walked closer to the crumbling building.

* * *

As Rollie drove, something popped up in his mind. The day before, he and Angie had been working on a set, and Angie had insisted she wear a tracker, so she and Rollie would know where each other were at all times.

Rollie balanced the wheel with one hand, and reached under the seat. He smiled as his hand touched the tracker. He pulled it out, and stuck it to the strip of Velcro on the dashboard.

As he drove, he clicked it on and watched as a tiny glowing dot suddenly appeared. The dot began to move, slowly at first and then stopping.

Rollie squinted at the dot, and felt his blood run cold. Angie appeared to be near the building where she had been working before she disappeared.

Rollie spun the truck around, startling the puppy who lay on the seat beside him. He raced towards the old, run-down building.

* * *

Angie stepped carefully in to the frame of the building. She knew she had to turn around and head to the airport, but something was pulling her toward this building.

Her head began to pound, and she reached up instinctively. A memory began to form in her mind, this time slow enough for her to interpret.

She saw herself walking into a room, heard herself talk to someone. ‘Could we be more than just friends’ she heard herself ask. Whoever she was talking to gave a negative response, and she saw the little Angie in her head turn away, tears in her eyes.

Angie squinted, trying to picture who she had been talking to, but the face remained unseen.

She had been so absorbed in the memory that she didn’t even notice that she had begun to walk beneath the crumbling roof.

A noise startled her, and she looked up just in time to see a piece of roof tumbling toward her. As she tried to run, Rollie’s voice filled her mind.

"Angela, you can trust me."

The blackness came.

* * *

Rollie pulled up into the lot, and glanced at the tracker in his hands. He saw that Angie was around the middle of the building, and hadn’t moved for the last five minutes.

"Angie!" He cried, running toward her debris. "Ang?"

He began shifting through the ashes, unable to see her anywhere. Suddenly, he heard a mumbling noise and ran toward it.

"Angie!" He spotted her on the ground, a heavy piece of wood across her chest. He used all of his strength to pull the wood off her, and carefully shifted her into his arms.

"Rollie?" Angie’s voice came softly. She began to stir and her eyes flew open, brandishing their sparkling blueness.

"Oh, Angie, are you okay? Why did you try to run?" He began to stroke her cheek.

"Run?" Angie asked, quizzically. "I … I thought we were doing the job for Mira, and then I heard a boom, and … and…" Her voice dropped. "You promised, Rollie, you promised." She collapsed into his arms.

* * *

Well, that’s the last time I lose my memory!" Angie exclaimed, glancing at Rollie.

He smiled back. After he had found her, Rollie had brought her back to his truck and raced her to the hospital. She had only suffered minor cuts and bruises, and her ankle had been broken.

When she had regained consciousness, she’d requested to see Rollie. Now he stood before her.

"So, well…" He trailed off. "I suppose you regained all your memory, huh?"

Angie nodded. "Listen, Rol. I ... I know about us, and I guess you were right. I was scared and confused, and I suppose…"

"No," Rollie sat on the bed beside her, and took her hand. "No, Angela, you were right."

"Huh?" She turned to him. "Rollie, what…"

"Shh," he put his finger to her lips. "Wait here." He raced from the room, returning seconds later with the golden retriever puppy he had gotten.

"Oh, Rollie!" She exclaimed. "For me?"

He nodded. "She can stay with me for now, because she might not get along with Chiops just yet."

"Sure," Angie replied. "I suppose I may be staying with you for a while, too."

Rollie nodded. He watched as the puppy bounded up on Angie’s bed, carefully avoiding her ankle.

"She’s sweet, Rol. Thanks," Angie commented. "She got a name?"

"Well," Rollie turned away, feeling the flames rush up his cheeks. "Yeah, I … um … don’t know if you’ll like it."

"Well," she began. "What is it?"

Rollie mumbled something and Angie strained to hear him.

"Huh?"

"Love," he said a bit louder. "I named her Love."

"Oh," Angie fell silent.

Rollie turned to face her, and he once again took her hand into his own. "Angie, I … I know that I turned you away once, probably many times, but … I never meant to hurt you. I just wasn’t sure if I shared, if I wanted you to know I shared your feelings."

"Rollie," Angie began.

Rollie brought his finger to her lips to silence her. "Please, I need to say this. When you were gone and everyone said you were dead, I didn’t believe them. Then you came back, but you weren’t the same Angie. I’m sorry if I was cruel to you, but I just wanted the real Angie back.

"Angie, I can’t live without you."

When Angie didn’t answer, Rollie got up and slowly began to walk away.

"Rollie, wait!" Angie called after him. She attempted to get up, and fell onto the floor.

Rollie ran to her, and picked her up into his arms. "Angie…"

"Yes?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Their faces were closed now; Angie could smell his aftershave.

Rollie closed the space between them with a kiss, and this time Angie didn’t pull away.

By Kimber Dilay. Please, if anybody has any thoughts on this or any other story I’ve written, send comments! As long as they aren’t vulgar, or really mean, I’d love to hear what you think of my writing!!!!!!