Aurora

by Emma L. McGeown

  Aurora

  Synopsis

  When 32-year-old Elena Ricci wakes up in the hospital, the last thing she recalls is walking home from work the night before. Except the night before turns out to be eight years ago and Elena has no memory of the time she’s lost. Family feuds, breakups, and sexual awakenings—all forgotten. For Keelin Jax, Elena’s wife, the long nightmare only continues upon Elena’s awakening when Keelin becomes a platonic roommate overnight. While Elena struggles to adjust to her new present and find the life she left behind, someone from Elena’s past finds a way to seize the opportunity after years of silence.

  Aurora

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Aurora

  © 2020 By Emma L McGeown. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-823-4

  This Electronic Original Is Published By

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: November 2020

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Barbara Ann Wright

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design by Tammy Seidick

  eBook Design by Toni Whitaker

  Acknowledgments

  To my family and friends, thank you for taking the time to read Aurora in its early, questionable stages. The in-depth and vital feedback from all of you was never read, but thanks anyway. In all seriousness, I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the strong women in my life who all offered continuous encouragement when I thought very little of my writing. Thank you to Barbara, Jo, Lauren, my sisters Sarah and Bronagh, and my fiancée, Laura. Their input, help, and support got this book to a place where people in the real world would actually read it. So, blame them if you hate the plot.

  To my fiancée, Laura, who always read my scribbles regardless of how little they made sense.

  And to Margot, our dog, who eagerly waited on a physical copy of this book to bury in the garden.

  Chapter One

  The throbbing in my head shook every cell, with each pulse sending another wave of pain. Outside of the white noise scrambling my head, everything seemed quiet, perhaps peaceful. Well, almost everything, except for that incessant beeping provoking me in the darkness. Beep…beep…beep…

  That irritating and endless beat pulled me back to consciousness and into the light. Hushed whispers surrounded me, much too incoherent to decipher who it was or even register what they were saying. I tried to open my eyes, see light, but exhaustion made that impossible as the throbbing overpowered my senses, and I was pulled back under again. I continued this dance with consciousness for what seemed like hours, perhaps days, until finally, I conjured enough strength to pull myself out of it.

  My only friend in this darkness, the beeping, seemed clearer as I came around. The throbbing in my head felt angrier, and I started to feel the rest of my body with every muscle aching.

  Tears of frustration formed as blurry objects appeared in neutral shades of white, pale grey, and blue, but I was nowhere familiar. I wiggled my fingers but failed to move them any great distance until I felt someone’s hand wrapped around my limp wrist.

  “Elena?” a muffled voice called. “Elena, can you hear me?”

  I tried to answer, but it was impossible, coming out as nothing more than a mumble.

  “Oh God, you’re awake,” she cried as the sound of her voice became clearer. “She’s waking. Someone? Help!” she called into the distance as footsteps disappeared, her voice fading.

  Alone again, I scanned the room, revealing more clues to my location. A TV was mounted high on the wall in front of me; the muffled British accents sparked recognition that I was at least home, though the terrible dialogue meant it was likely some tragic daytime soap. Feeling as if I was getting nowhere with sight, I tried to move my body again. It didn’t budge more than an inch before pain screamed from every limb. I inhaled sharply to ease the pain only to be rudely greeted with the distinctive disinfectant smell of all hospitals. Like a signature scent of despair.

  “Elena, try not to move.” A voice returned, and I found its owner. By the pale blue scrubs, I assumed it was my doctor. “Can you hear me?”

  I tried to answer her, but my throat felt like sandpaper. I mumbled, practically inaudible.

  The doctor followed my gaze before registering my request. “Water?” After a small nod from me, she slowly brought the cup and straw to my lips.

  I took a sip. It did nothing to quench my thirst but made me somewhat coherent. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?” I tried to think, but nothing seemed clear. “Do you remember anything?” I didn’t have a moment to answer before the door opened.

  “Hi.” A man in scrubs and a white coat entered, nodding to the other doctor but keeping his distance before addressing me. “Hello, Elena, I’m Dr Greg Hall. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

  “That’s oddly accurate.” He quickly checked himself when he received silence from the room. “Sorry. Bad joke.” He side-glanced the other doctor before rambling again. “You took quite a bump out there. Do you remember what happened?”

  “Was I hit by a bus, by any chance?” I mumbled as I tried to rack my brain back to the incident but came up empty, painfully and terrifyingly blank.

  “Yes. I’m afraid so.” He spoke softly, with kind eyes. “You were hit by a bus a couple of days ago and have been in and out of consciousness. I will have to examine you to get a full extent of your injuries. Is now a good time?”

  I gave a small nod. He poked and prodded at my feet and toes as I did the small exercises he wanted. Everything hurt, but Dr Hall, almost over-the-top polite, apologised every step of the way. His small talk and little jokes here and there made me feel more at ease, almost as if I’d known him for years.

  “Everything looks good, Elena. I am very happy with your progress physically. You’ll feel sore for a little while, but the pain should decrease as the weeks go on.”

  “Weeks? Great,” I mumbled sarcastically before an element of relief washed over me. I’m going to be okay. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Physically, everything is working as it should. There’s just a neuro exam we have to go through. Is that okay?” he asked before side-glancing the other doctor again, who was still sitting next to me, watching intently.

  “Sure, why not.” I attempted to sit up straighter but failed with the lack of strength in my arms. The other doctor used a pillow to prop me up, and I sent a small smile of thanks before my attention was diverted back to Dr Hall.

  “Can you tell me your name?” he asked, looking at a clipboard as if ready to take notes.

  “Elena Ricci,” I answered and was a little relieved to hear my voice was beginning to return to normal.

  “Good. And when I entered the room, I told you my full name. Do you remember?”

  “Doctor…” I paused as my mind blanked momentarily. “Craig Hall.”

  “It’s Greg, but very close, and I have been known to mumble, so I’ll let that one slide.” He smiled proudly,
as if I was a pup that had just learned how to sit on command. “Can you tell me where we are?”

  “A hospital. Still in London, I hope?”

  “Don’t worry, we’re still in London.” He grinned. “Good. And what is this?” He held his pen in my line of vision and wiggled it.

  “A blue pen.”

  “Good. And you can tell it’s blue, which is great.” He pointed behind his head but kept his eyes on the clipboard. “Now, on the TV, can you tell me what’s airing?”

  “Something terrible. It’s probably Coronation Street,” I mumbled, causing both doctors to laugh.

  “Very good, indeed. And what year is it?”

  “2010.”

  The room silenced as Dr Hall’s eyes whipped up. He stared at me as if trying his best to hide the shock. He failed.

  “What?” the doctor beside me whispered as I turned to meet her gaze.

  “2010. Isn’t it?” I turned to Dr Hall again as panic set in.

  “Can you tell me what age you are?”

  “Twenty-four.” The wild eyes of the doctors told me my answer was wrong.

  “And what do you do for a living?”

  “I’m interning for the summer at Baker Contracts.”

  “Good. Well, I think that’s all the questions I have right now.” He jotted some notes before beginning to move toward the door. “Is there anyone I can call for you?”

  “My mum and dad—” I started, but the female doctor interrupted.

  “They’re coming. They’ll land from Sicily in a couple of hours.”

  “Okay. And Cat? My sist—” But again, I didn’t have a chance to finish.

  “Caterina is on her way.” She read my mind once again, and as I turned to her in surprise, it gave me the opportunity to really look at her.

  She looked to be in her early thirties, with short, wavy, dark hair swept back from her face. Although she looked worn out, exhausted from the day, her beauty was undeniable. She looked no taller than me but strong, with a hint of a sleeve tattoo peeking from under her shirt. The blue scrubs brightened her already sky-blue eyes as they connected with mine, making me feel as if I was under scrutiny. The feeling of complete vulnerability under her gaze should have unnerved me, but strangely, it didn’t. She watched me with genuine concern, something that seemed misplaced, considering she was a perfect stranger.

  “Can you also call my boyfriend, Tom?” I asked Dr Hall before he left. “He’ll be worried about me.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged,” he replied. “We’ll give you some time to rest and check on you again soon.” He smiled as he began to leave with the other doctor.

  “Thank you, Dr Hall. And I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, Dr…” I asked as she turned to look at me.

  “Jax. Dr Jax.”

  * * *

  Jax

  She had no idea who I was.

  When Elena had been wheeled into the emergency room on a gurney, with blood pouring from her head, I hadn’t realised how bad this was. Though I had been about to start the second half of a glorious twenty-four-hour split shift, all exhaustion had vanished the moment I saw her. Greg had examined her and saw she had an intracerebral haemorrhage causing a brain bleed.

  Being a trauma surgeon, I had known how messy that kind of bleed could be—every second counted—but Greg Hall was not only my best friend but the best surgeon I knew. He was already more experienced and skilled than surgeons who had been in the operating room for thirty years. I had begged to be in surgery with her, but a conflict of interest meant I didn’t have a say.

  It had been my first experience being the family, waiting outside in the waiting room. After today, I would never go through another surgery without thinking of the loved ones. Their pacing, with fears and worries and agonising feelings of uselessness. It was not something I used to waste energy on. My focus was always on the patient, until today.

  After surgery, I had gone through the entire procedure with Greg. I couldn’t critique him, but I’d wanted to. “One more time. How far did you drill into the skull?”

  “I’ve done hundreds of craniectomies.” He’d rubbed his tired face and heavy stubble, evidence from the last three days on call.

  “Fine. Then what about—”

  “Jax, it’s two a.m.”

  I’d searched for the clock in disbelief and had realised how long Greg had been sitting with me. Surgery had ended hours ago.

  “You should sleep.” He’d placed a hand on my knee. “Why don’t you sleep at mine?”

  “I’m not leaving her.” Elena’s beaten body in the bed seemed too fragile to be left alone.

  Bruising around her face had caused swelling. Paired with the bandages and the stitches holding her arm together, my wife had been almost unrecognisable. Her usual silky brown hair had been dull and lifeless, and her beautiful tanned complexion almost yellowed under the harsh, intensive care lighting. Nothing about this battered body had resembled Elena Ricci. Even her intoxicating smell that I could never grow tired of had vanished and been replaced with despair.

  Greg had watched me with wary and tired eyes. He knew me well. We used to date, studied at medical school together, and went through our training in this very hospital. We’d grown closer, almost like family, after he’d transitioned to male. He’d been there every step of my career, always a good friend, which is why it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he’d sat next to me again.

  “So I started with a 0.5-millimetre drill…” Greg had taken me through the surgery once again.

  A few days later, there had still been no change. Everyone in the trauma department had pitched in and shared my shifts, so I wouldn’t have to leave Elena’s side. My friends and family had brought clothes and food and had persuaded me to sleep the odd time. I’d spent every day by her bedside, going over the last time we’d spoke—the hurtful things I’d said to her—torturing myself while begging her to wake and terrified that she might not as each day turned into the next. Until something moved in my hand.

  The moment I’d registered how truly bad things were was when I heard the words neuro exam. Elena had awoken just moments ago, and I had been thrilled but silently keeping it together so as to not overwhelm her. Greg had to examine her before I could truly rejoice.

  “Physically, everything is working as it should.” I’d tuned in and out of the conversation but had watched her carefully. “There’s just a neuro exam we have to go through. Is that okay?”

  “Sure, why not.” Elena’s dry response had me smirking before she’d glanced warily in my direction.

  That wasn’t the first time she’d thrown me that look. Having lived with her for the past six years, I knew every one of her looks. I’d begun to think back. She hadn’t been her usual warm self to either me or Greg. She had been confused and perhaps wondering why I was here.

  “Can you tell me your name?” Greg had started.

  “Elena Ricci.”

  He’d continued with questioning, and I had felt myself begin to ease. She’d recognised basic objects and could recall them, remarkable for someone with a brain bleed. Her slurred speech was likely an aftereffect of surgery. She needed time to heal, but I could help her with that as long as she was going to be all right.

  “Very good, indeed. And what year is it?”

  “2010.”

  That was all it took to cause my entire world to fall apart. I’d first met Elena in New York in 2010, a lifetime ago, really. We had been young and immature but had a connection that was undeniable. Though we’d started as friends, she was never just that to me. After a lot of denial, she’d finally accepted her feelings for me, though it had taken several more years for her to truly accept herself and address those demons she’d carried from childhood.

  “What?” I’d broken the deafening silence as I’d searched her face for signs of familiarity.

  “2010.” She’d wrinkled her brow. “Isn’t it?”

  “Can you tell me what age you are?”


  “Twenty-four.”

  My heart had stopped at that moment as Greg continued to ask questions. I’d barely heard a word as my breathing became erratic and loud in my ears.

  “Good. Well, I think that’s all the questions I have right now. Is there anyone I can call for you?”

  I’d felt sick to my stomach as the room began to spin. Elena had asked for her parents and sister, and somehow, I’d managed to answer. My quickened heartbeat had made me tremble as my mind raced through the last eight years, something Elena appeared incapable of doing.

  “Can you also call my boyfriend, Tom?” That request had been the final dagger to the chest as I felt tears begin to form. “He’ll be worried about me.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged.” Greg had quickly moved to my side and put his arm around me. My knees had turned unsteady as I struggled to breathe with the tightening around my heart. “We’ll give you some time to rest and check on you again soon.” Greg finished as he began to usher me out of the room.

  “Thank you, Dr Hall. And I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, Dr…” she’d asked as I turned to look at the love of my life, who had no idea who I was.

  “Jax. Dr Jax.”

  She had no idea who I was.

  Now, with the door closed, I began walking, unable to stand still. It didn’t matter where, all I knew was I couldn’t be anywhere near that room. Everything in my line of vision was spinning as I tried to process the situation. My sneakers squeaked on the freshly polished floors as I stumbled down the hallway, crashing into walls with no direction in sight.

  “Wait, Jax. Just give me a minute,” Greg called as he tried to follow. I couldn’t answer. I could barely breathe as my chest tightened further as if caught in a vice. “Jax, wait. Where are you going?”

  My throat was dry, my eyes blurred, and my mind spun out of control. I felt like I was being suffocated; maybe I was. Was this what a panic attack felt like or a heart attack? Maybe it was both. My stomach flipped and I felt its contents begin to surge upward.