“Most of the boxes are missing,” I commented as I re-emerged by the fridge. The spare room had much more before my accident.

“Yeah. I've unpacked your books and placed them on the shelves in our office,” Kade explained while stirring the pot. “I wasn't sure how you wanted them, so they’re currently sorted alphabetically by title. You'll need to figure out where you want the rest of the stuff.” He glanced at me and then approached instantly, the pot and the spoon forgotten. “Do you need to sit down? You look pale.”

“I'm fine, just had a headache. What are you cooking? Smells delicious.” I changed the subject, but the worry written all over his face didn’t lessen. “The pain is nearly gone, really,” I assured him, and it was true. Kade brushed his fingers down my right arm, needing the small reassurance of a touch to make sure I was okay.

“I'm making Chicken Biryani.” He returned back to the pot. I could still feel the gentle squeeze on my hand he parted with.

“Mmmm, nice. We haven’t had it in a while.” The sounds of boiling food and the buzzing hood were comforting. “Can I help with something?”

“This still needs cooking for another ten to fifteen minutes, but you can set the table if you're restless. Though, I figured you'd want to lounge on the balcony and purge your memories of the small hospital room,” Kade suggested.

I suppressed the urge to face-palm. My scattered mind had somehow managed to forget a wonderful scenic view awaiting me outside. We both loved it; it’s why we chose this condo on the 20th floor instead of the cheaper one on the 5th floor in another building.

“Now that you mention it, I'll go and admire the view for a bit.” Hopefully the wind would blow away some of the pesky thoughts, too. “Be right back to do my duty.” I brushed my fingers along his waist in thanks, a small gesture of affection I'd done hundreds of times.

I smiled at the pleasant tingle in my fingers, but then I felt disgusted with myself when a fleeting thought whispered Kade didn’t deserve it.

The shrink said some temporary mood swings were expected following a serious concussion and especially my hospital-induced depression. They should disappear along with the headache, dizziness, and nausea as my brain healed, but what if it wasn't a temporary symptom anymore? What if this anger was a permanent consequence I had to live with? Would I need to take stronger antidepressants for the rest of my life?

The doc didn’t rule out such possibility, and I was terrified it could be my future. I didn’t want to be a bitter and spiteful person or turn into a drug addict.

I gripped the railing of the balcony as a new bout of headache sliced from the back of my head to my temples, reminding me I was again mulling over something I shouldn't. Kade's favorite phrase these days was 'don't overthink it' and 'let it go'. He knew by now that me worrying about not being myself brought on the worst of my headaches.

But how was I not to think about it? What if my mind was permanently broken? What if time wouldn’t heal it? What if I continued to treat my lover like a scapegoat or worse, blame him even more as days went by?

My knees buckled from another dizzying jab in my head. Shit! I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe deeply.

Do not think, Evan. Do NOT think. Breathe in and out.

I repeated the mantra in my mind until the pain lessened to a tolerable level, and I opened my eyes to observe the somewhat hazy surroundings.

Simple thoughts only, enjoy the view even if it was a little woozy now.

Olympic Mountains, Seattle view of Puget Sound, Seattle's Ferris Wheel, and Pike Place Market—everything could be seen from our place, and the sight was magnificent, especially at sunset. It was also the reason why this place cost a fortune, but damn it, it was so worth it.

Kade and I already had breakfast and lunch here on the balcony after one of us got something fresh from Pike's Place. We even bought a comfy three-piece outdoor bistro set to lounge here—the view was simply too gorgeous not to be taken advantage of.

My lover had coded here with his laptop a couple of mornings before it got too bright for him. I did a couple of sketches here as well. There was an unfinished A2 pencil drawing in our office that was supposed to capture the beauty of this view, started prior my accident. I wanted it to be detailed and precise, like a perfect black and white photo, full of details.

Now, I wasn't sure I could ever finish it.

Drawing was another thing I felt disconnected about, changed by the accident. Kade had brought me a pencil and a sketchbook on the second day after the accident, and I did try to draw to distract myself, but what came out was trash. Visually, the simple sketches looked like they were supposed to, but they didn't have the right feel, the right aura. The two unfinished sketches were nothing but soulless nonsense.

It was disturbing to witness that even though my fingers functioned, my mind now produced utter junk. Simple toilet paper evoked more emotion than my supposedly professional sketch.

I didn't pick up my pencil anymore after that day. The mere thought of drawing something that lifeless made my stomach queasy and my nostrils flare in irritation.

Had I lost another piece of myself? Would I ever enjoy drawing again? I shuddered in fear and ran a hand through my hair to calm myself.

Don't think about that either, Evan. Don't.

I forced myself to focus on the view in front of me. It would do me good to walk a lengthy stretch tomorrow, especially after being holed-up in the hospital for so long. My eyes flicked towards neighboring buildings in the direction of the Waterfront Park.

Yeah, taking a stroll and clearing my head sounded nice. I’d also bring something from Pike's Place on my way back. Though nothing too heavy so Kade wouldn't have ammunition to grouse about.

I sometimes wondered how my life would have turned out if our paths had never crossed. I'd probably be married to some woman by now, have a kid, maybe even a house. Probably.

None of that mattered because thankfully, I did meet Kade.

>>>>>