Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
Why do some things happen? And do they have to happen the way they do? Couldn't life be easier sometimes and send us some notice? Something like: Hey, your life is about to change. This thing you're planning to do? Eh, better not. Good luck to you. Here's a good hair day as compensation.
It would have been nice to know in advance before agreeing to move in with Matt so her answer would have been: no, I won't give up my apartment because I'm gonna need it back in a couple of weeks, but thanks for thinking of me.
She hadn't seen the invitation coming, but she couldn't say that she herself hadn't been considering that the ratio between the time spent in his place and in hers hadn't been even close to being the same for a couple of months now. Saying yes to his invitation had not been a difficult decision, but her situation now was, though she couldn't blame him for the way things turned out.
Karen stopped halfway through folding another pair of jeans. She saw one of his t-shirts lying over the back of a chair. He had decided the second he put his head on the pillow that it was too hot to sleep fully clothed, so he just raised his arms, took the t-shirt off, and threw it at random. She complimented his skills after the shirt landed perfectly on the back of a chair, to which he answered he wished he could say he did it so as to impress her, but that had actually been a fortunate accident. She just chuckled and lay her head on his now bare chest, his warm skin and beating heart lulling her to sleep.
She took the t-shirt and brought it to her nose, to inhale the scent of him. Despite it being clean, the fabric carried Matt's scent all over it. She felt tears in her eyes. He wouldn't miss this specific t-shirt, would he? She sighed as she put it inside her bag, among her own clothes.
She exited the room carrying her bag and saw that Foggy hadn't moved from his previous position in fifteen minutes. He was facing the window, the billboard throwing shades of purple over the entire place.
"Are you ready?"
"Yeah, I packed everything. I think I left the bedroom pretty much the way it was before…" - she gulped. - "Before."
He just sighed. "Ok. Are you sure you don't wanna stay at my place? Marci is the one who offered, and I agree with her."
"I'm sure, Foggy. I… you guys have only one bedroom. I'm not the best company right now. I'll book myself in a hotel room for a couple of nights and I'll begin looking for an apartment tomorrow. Thank God I put most of my furniture in a storage facility or else I would have to buy everything again."
"You know Marci and I will help you with anything you need in the meantime."
"I know, I know". - she bowed her head, unable to look at Foggy. She couldn't stand seeing the pity in his eyes. She took a look around the room and felt a hollowness she never thought she'd feel again, not after so many happy memories, most of them as recent as two days. She scanned the room looking for what she could possibly have missed and saw the dishes they left on the sink to be washed yesterday morning, the empty pizza box still over the table, their glasses still tainted with the wine they drank the night before that, to celebrate her finally locking the door of the apartment she had occupied for almost two years for the last time.
"Karen."
"Hm?" - she turned around to face him. Foggy still hadn't moved, but he was watching her closely.
"He'll come around. He'll get his memory back. Sooner than you know you'll be back right here. Matt is anything if not determined."
She smiled sadly. "Yes, but he doesn't even know what he's supposed to remember, does he?" - she couldn't help but her voice came out bitter. " He doesn't remember… us. It's like nothing ever happened."
"Not exactly, you know that. He knows who you are, he hasn't lost all of his memory."
"Foggy…" - she closed her eyes, the tears threatening to fall.
"Hey." - he walked over to her and hugged her. "He will remember you. After everything you guys have been through, there's no way a memory of you together isn't there somewhere."
"If he doesn't remember me, what am I gonna do?" she asked, her voice not more than a whisper against his shoulder.
"He will."
He has to, Foggy thought.
Thanks for reading.