It all started with a newspaper article, with a pretty damn catchy headline at that. That was all I needed to travel back through memory lane and revisit the life I had abandoned over a year ago. That “life” was a woman called Megan. I can’t even muster up the courage to say her full name. Megan always had promoted the idea of being organized, her occasional motto was “Better know what your doing, Sam” I never listened to her if I would had my life would have been completely different and dull. I rather live my life six feet on the ground than to live a dull life. I think that was the case between Megan and I we were so completely different but similar in so many ways.
Megan nursed me back to health after I woke up from my coma. Actually we’ve met before the accident happened. Was it a month before? Don’t remember that much. Her father was the owner of the big time real estate company I was working for. It was a sham of course. The whole thing was a cover up for the real operation: manufacturing weapons for different countries; illegally of course. But that I’m afraid it’s a whole different story. I met Megan on the eve of her 21st birthday party; her father introduced us. “Honey, I want you to meet my best employee; Sam Reynolds” he said to Megan as if he was selling his best product to a customer. She smiled and we didn’t make any contact for the first half of the night. I didn’t know what it was at first, I know it wasn’t attraction. It could have been temptation, the temptation to break all the rules.
There was one thing Megan and I had in common and that was we hated her father. We both thought at the moment if we get together it’s going to be a headache for him. From what I heard before; Megan had quite a reputation with other men. Father’s little girl wasn’t so innocent. She came over my way to prove that certain point. “You don’t look like someone who associates with my father” she said. Her red radiating dress attracted my eyes to her body making me uncertain what to say next. She was that good. “Your father is associated with a lot of interesting people from what I hear” I said with a grin. Megan smiled, I know that smile. She was impressed I kept my composure around her, other guys would stand and drool but I’m not like any other guys. I stood my ground. For the rest of the party we had drinks and gotten to know each other. She was going to school for business. “Following your father’s foot steps I see?” I remarked. She laughed for a moment “Nobody in their right mind would follow my father’s footsteps; let’s just say I’m doing my own walking” I laughed at what she said, don’t really know why. Maybe I just had too much to drink or maybe what she said was true.
That night ended in bliss. When the party finished, Megan and I rented a hotel room. We made love until the sun reared its head. I was glad I gave her the best birthday present you can’t get from a Macy catalogue. We’ve kept in touch after that night. We got closer and closer each time when spent a night together, she was fast becoming my best friend. Was this love? Bite your tongue. Everything came crashing down when I’ve gotten into the car accident. Megan’s father bought me a car for Christmas. What a car I should say; a fine sleek white Mercedes Benz, one of them C-class models. One very fine German machinery. He bought it because I was the best employee he has ever had and he saw me as a son that he always asked for. So who am I to argue? I should have known the truth at the time. The brakes of the car were tampered with and I collided into a building. Any one else would have died; but I guess I got “lucky”. I knew too much about his “other” business and he wanted to make sure I would stay silent, forever of course. Obviously his plan failed, I went into a coma for 6 months.
I’ve heard from so many friends and family members that while I was in my coma, Megan would visit me day after day. From the morning until the end of the day. Was this love? Maybe. They say it was a miracle when I woke up. It did feel spiritual more like heaven when the first thing I saw when I woke up was Megan’s aquatic sea eyes looking at me with disbelief. Tears of joy filling her eyes. She took care of me like a mother taking care of an unwanted infant. We were together for 4 years. It felt like marriage. Maybe it’s the fear of commitment talking but marriage is not my idea of happiness. It’s more of a prison. A long and boring prison in which the partners have to endure. Like I’ve said before; the dull life is not for me. Maybe it was cruel when I started cheating on her with other women, but it had to be done. Our relationship at the time was falling apart. Megan didn’t make an attempt to save it. She finally caught me sleeping with my secretary and decided its time to call it quits. Yes even though I treated Megan like trash I still think back on those 4 years of recovery and admire how she worked hard to revive someone from the “dead” Was it love? Absolutely not.
After a year of the “break up” Megan sent me an e-mail saying she wanted to meet me in our “old stomping grounds”. I knew where she wanted to meet up. “Mario’s hamburger house” After having nights out drinking we would always stop by that place to grab a couple of cheeseburgers with chocolate milkshakes. Luckily the place was open 24 hours. Great memories between us were made in that diner. The normal people protest that the food Mario serves is filthy and doesn’t meet the “health code” we couldn’t care less. Hell, it was open 24 hours. I waited for her impatiently in the diner. Sitting in the booth we always used to occupy. I hate to admit it but I was nervous as hell, like a teenage kid having his first date with the girl of his dreams. When Megan arrived my world slowed down. Thoughts of cardiac arrest blossomed in my mind. She looked more mature, taller. Her dark red hair, pale smooth skin wearing a long brown coat that covered her delicate body gave class to the “filthy old” diner. She pierced my soul when she looked at me with those sea green eyes, my god those eyes! Those were weapons enough.
“You look like you can take on the world” I said trying to break our year long silence. “And you look like hell” she smiled. Megan always had a counter attack for anything. She got down to business. Her father was opening up a factory over in Cleveland. They were going to move over there and start their life again. I guess she wanted to be friends with her father. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked
“After what we’ve been through you deserved to know”
“When are you coming back?” I asked with a glimmer of hope.
“I don’t want to return. This could be the last time we ever see each other. It’s for the best” she sadly admitted. We sat there eating our burgers with so many thoughts and memories surrounding our booth. After “Mario’s” we walked around for a bit trying to catch up, it was difficult. We couldn’t just pretend to be old friends and forget the past. We could have just hugged and said out good byes, but no, that was not me. I refuse to let go of the most important woman of my life with a simple hug and a kiss on the cheek. At that moment we both knew what had to be done. She brought me over to her place and we made love. It was passionate, had meaning it was the both of us wanted for a long time. In some small way it had eased the pain of the past, we welcomed it.
The following morning we said our proper goodbyes. I gave a little a bit of hope “Maybe we’ll see each other again, who knows?” but I knew deep down Megan wanted to escape from it all, especially me it would have been a mistake. That was a year ago; I’ve put her off of my mind until this morning when I read the newspaper “CLEVELAND FACTORY BURNS DOWN KILLING WORKERS INCLUDING OWNER AND DAUGHTER” that’s what I needed to go along with my fresh cup of coffee. I sat there motionless re-reading the article. I couldn’t believe it. Any other normal person would have broken down and cry but I hate to admit I’m out of the ordinary. Each sip of my coffee brought along scenes from the past. And one thing will forever be stuck on my head “Better know what you’re doing, Sam” That is what Megan was trying to tell me this whole time. Sometimes in life I wonder if anyone of us actually “knows” what we’re doing.
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