Promises Forgotten

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my temples. The headache that had been a constant companion for me over the last couple days was getting worse. I knew I needed to go to the doctors but my schedule was so packed that I didn’t have time to even breathe. “Zach, you okay?” I glanced up at my longtime friend and head of security, Jason. He looked at me worriedly. I flashed him a smile. “I’m fine. Just a slight headache.” “Do you need me to get your medication?” I shook my head and reached down in my drawer, pulling out the bottle. “I already had one. It took the edge off it.” “If you’re already to the point where it isn’t helping fully…” “Thanks, Jason, but I’m fine.” I smiled again at him and leaned forward, looking at the paperwork on my desk. A knock on the door pulled my eyes away from the words. “Come in.” Stacy, my other longtime friend and current head assistant, poked her head in. Once she deemed the room was clear, she walked in and closed the door behind her. She sm

Jolting up out of bed, my head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it. I let out a scream as I grabbed my hair and squeezed my eyes shut. Suddenly, I felt my stomach turn and I leaned over the bed and vomited. I couldn’t see, my vision was dancing with black and gold dots. My head felt like it was going to explode. Reaching out to the night stand, I knocked over the lamp and it shattered. The sound making me scream again. My eyes were tearing up, but I couldn’t even feel anything past the pain. Reaching out again, I grabbed my phone and unlocked it with my fingerprint. “Call Adrian…” My voice was hoarse and gravelly. “Call Adrian “Butthead” Anderson?” The phone replied. “Yes!” I screamed again as the throbbing turned into a stabbing pain. I started to cough and I could feel my consciousness leaving me. The phone rang three times before a tired and gruff voice answered. “Seriously, asshole? Do you know what time it is right now?” “A…A…rian…” My voice broke apart as the wor

“I’m sorry…what?” It took a good five minutes before anyone could speak. I couldn’t even fathom what Jason was telling me. It was Stacy who recovered the earliest. Derek had already gotten up to refill his glass. “He’s been married. Zachary Emmett Anderson, married on May 5th in Las Vegas, Nevada to a Evelyn Harris. Married by an Elvis, but it’s an actual wedding certificate.” Jason turned the computer around to show the photocopy of the marriage certificate. Sure enough, my name was printed out in my own handwriting; as well as my signature. The woman’s name, written and signed in her own handwriting. I stared at the screen for a minute. “I wasn’t drunk when I signed this.” “What are you talking about? Of course, you were drunk! Why the hell would you say that? You were in Vegas for god’s sake.” Stacy grabbed the computer to turn it around. Her glass hovered at her lips before she cursed. “You’re right. That’s your sober signature. What the hell, Zach? What happened in Vegas afte

“Mom! I’m gonna be late!” I smiled and turned around. Elliot was running toward me in his little school outfit with his blue backpack. Patting my hands on my apron, I pulled him into a hug. “Good morning, pumpkin.” “Mmm…mmmm….we….nneeee…..goooo….” I let go and he exaggerated taking in breaths. “What’s got you so excited about school today?” “We are having animals come today and they have a frog!” Smiling, my son’s newest obsession has been frogs, but his inability to find a frog at our local parks has left him depressed for the last couple months. When he heard there were going to be animals at his Pre-K class, he specifically asked for a frog. I didn’t know if they did actually have one, but it sounded like someone made a promise he was going to hold them accountable for. “Alright, sweetheart. We will go now.” I pulled off my apron and took his hand. “Mike, I’m going to take Elliot to school. I’ll be back in a half hour.” “Sounds good. Have fun, kiddo!” Elliot went up to Mike

Rubbing my eyes, I looked up at the carousel with my flight information on it. I was already holding my hard case with my bionic arm in it. I found out it was much easier to carry on my arm than it was to wear it in the airport. Most of the time, they made you break it apart anyways to look at it since they can’t wand it because it’s full metal. So, it’s just better that it goes through the machine like an instrument. It was a pain to be one handed, but usually airport staff were nice enough to help. There are always exceptions to that, and New York was one of them. It was absolute chaos trying to get through this airport. Finally, one of my fellow passengers, a doctor out for a conference, was nice enough to help me when I needed it. I knew I would be going from the airport to my hotel, then directly to the office because the flight landed on time but took an extra twenty minutes to get unloaded. Sighing, I set my arm down between my legs and leaned over, eyeing my bag. Quickly grabb