Forget Me Not (The Unforgettable Duet Book 1)

by Brooke Blaine

  Reid’s eyes opened as he panted, and a lone tear escaped down his temple. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” I said, wiping the wetness away. “I’ll make up tacos for you, you’ll make up kisses for me. It’s only fair.”

  His eyes shone up at me. “I got pretty lucky to know you, Oliver McFadden. How did that happen?”

  “Well,” I said, pulling the chair up closer to the bed, “it all started with a coffee machine…”

  “Oh God. I guess I’m gonna have to give it a go and see what all the fuss is about after all.”

  “Hey, it was life-changing the first time around,” I said, indicating myself.

  “Huh. I never asked…”

  “Yeah?”

  “How did I take it? My coffee?”

  “Why would you think I’d know?” I teased.

  “Don’t you?”

  I cracked a smile. “You’d get the regular latte, I think maybe because you liked the bit of foam or maybe you liked the milk. Then you’d add three sugars and two extra creamers.”

  “Uh, that’s specific. I got it that way every time?”

  “Every single time, though the flavor of the creamers changed occasionally. Oh, and except when you were busy cursing at the machine for breaking down, and then you’d settle for the regular stuff like me.”

  Reid’s lips curved. “I think you might’ve been paying attention to me, Ollie McFadden.”

  “I’m only surprised it took you this long to notice.” I’d said it as a joke, but a troubled expression crossed his face.

  “I couldn’t have just noticed. If I was a smart guy at all, there’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed you.”

  I opened my mouth, a teasing comment on the tip of my tongue, but there was a quick knock on the door, and then Dr. Farruggia entered the room, followed by—

  Fuck. Oh fuck.

  My heart dropped to my feet, and any hope I’d been holding that I’d panicked, that I’d been overly cautious in bringing Reid here, vanished in an instant when the woman behind Dr. Farruggia came into view and shut the door behind her. There was no reason a neurosurgeon should be paying Reid a visit unless it was for a reason.

  A really bad fucking reason.

  My body went hot, like someone had submerged me into a vat of boiling water, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I pulled at the collar of my shirt and put my elbows on my knees.

  Oh God, I was gonna pass out before they even said anything.

  “Reid, this is Dr. Boswell, a neurosurgeon here at Floyd,” Dr. Farruggia said. “We’ve both gone over your CAT scan, and there’s something we need to discuss.”

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  Dr. Boswell took over then, but it was like the teacher in the Peanuts cartoons, where you heard her talking but couldn’t make out a goddamn thing she was saying. My head went fuzzy as blood roared in my ears. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and tried to focus, but I knew all too well what they were telling him. Every now and then a word would make it through the thundering in my brain, and it only confirmed what I already knew.

  “Bleeding…temporal lobe…operate…today…”

  I snapped back into focus then, just as Reid said, “I’m sorry, can you repeat that last part again?”

  “We’ve got to operate,” Dr. Boswell said. “Today, with your permission, Reid.”

  Somehow, I’d known those words were coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear them said out loud. And by the lack of shock on Reid’s face, I’d guess he’d known all along that his symptoms were more serious than merely a headache.

  “I assume there’s no other way to…fix it?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Dr. Boswell said. “Bleeding in the brain is a serious condition that can be fatal if left untreated. We can’t take the risk of waiting.”

  Reid blinked as his eyes found mine, and I nodded to indicate she was telling the truth and I agreed. “I-I’ll need to call my family—”

  “Your parents are on their way,” I said. “I called while you were getting the CAT scan. They should be here soon.”

  “Oh…okay…okay.” He looked down at his hands, his teeth worrying his lip. “I guess you…have my permission. If there’s no other option.”

  “I’m afraid not, Reid. But don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you. Do you have any questions for me?”

  “I…don’t know.”

  She gave him an understanding smile. “I know this is probably a bit of a shock for you. But if there’s anything you think of that you’d like to know, just ask. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll be back with my team in a little while to get things going. Just sit tight.”

  Reid nodded, and as she left the room, I could feel his stunned silence like a tangible thing in the air.

  “How did this happen?” he whispered. “I was supposed to be getting better, not—” He broke off on a sob, but then he bit down on his fist and pulled it back together.

  “Just breathe,” I said. “And if you want to cry, you can do that too.”

  Reid took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before repeating the move again. When he opened his eyes again, the fear that had been there was no longer the most dominant emotion, though it still lingered. In its place was acceptance, and as he exhaled again slowly, he reached out for my hand.

  “Thank you for looking out for me. For caring enough about me to bring me here.” I leaned over to kiss him lightly on the lips, and when I sat back down, he said, “This won’t be like the last time, will it? I’m not gonna wake up and forget everything again. Right?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “I hope not. But anytime there’s a brain injury, it opens itself up to possibilities.”

  “So I could forget you?” His gaze was so direct, so penetrating, that I swore he could see the answer I feared in my head like it was written on a billboard. “That’s a possibility, however remote?”

  I swallowed back the lump in my throat and tried for a smile. “Now, why would you do a thing like that?”

  “Ollie. Could I?”

  “I don’t know,” I said again, wishing I could give him a definitive answer. “I hope not. I’m sure the likelihood is slim, but I don’t know. And I won’t make you a promise I’m not a hundred percent positive I can keep.”

  Reid looked away, his gaze drifting to the medical equipment set up in the corner. “When I wake up, I might not be me. I might not know you anymore.” His eyes glassed over. “And I like knowing you.”

  Stutter. Stutter. Stutter. My heart wasn’t ready for that possibility. “I like knowing you too.” Breathe. Just breathe. “But don’t think about the what-ifs. Think about waking up to me.”

  “I’ll remember,” he said, his jaw set as his eyes met mine. “I swear I won’t forget you. I won’t forget any of it.” His hand squeezed mine so tight that my circulation was cut off. “I promise I’ll wake up to you.”

  I knew better than for him to make promises he couldn’t keep, the same as I couldn’t, but I nodded anyway, hoping it was the truth.

  The door swung open, and as Reid’s parents came rushing inside, dressed up in elegant evening attire that told me I’d definitely interrupted date night, I let go of Reid’s hand and got to my feet.

  “Baby, we came as fast as we could,” his mom said, rounding the bed to plant a kiss on his forehead, and then she moved to the side for Reid’s father to greet him as well.

  I stood there like an elephant in the room until they both looked my way.

  “Have you heard anything yet?” his mom asked, and I proceeded to give them a rundown of what they’d found and what would be happening next. His mom’s hand went over her mouth, and she looked down at Reid. “Oh my God. How… Did we do something wrong? I didn’t know about the headaches, and—”

  “It was nothing you did, I can assure you,” I said. “Nothing he did either. Sometimes it happens, and you can’t predict it; you can only try to ca
tch it early before—” Realizing what I was about to say, and not wanting to utter that morbid possibility, I tried again. “It’s just best to catch it early, and that’s what they’re doing now.”

  Someone in the doorway cleared their throat, and when we turned in her direction, Sue, one of the nurses, stood there with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m so sorry, but we can’t allow more than two visitors in the room at a time.”

  Damn that fucking rule.

  I indicated the door with my thumb. “I’ll just be outside grabbing a coffee.” To Reid, I said, “I’ll see you before you go back.”

  The look on his face told me he didn’t want me to leave, but he needed to spend this time with his family.

  “Ollie, thank you. Once again you’ve been there for Reid, and I don’t know how we can—” His mother cut off as she broke into tears, and her husband put his arm around her.

  “Thank you,” he said over her head, and the gratitude in his eyes said enough.

  The stares from my colleagues as I exited Reid’s room were full of nothing but sympathy, and I could feel the support they were sending my way without any words needing to be spoken.

  As the double doors opened and I headed out into the waiting room, I felt as though I was moving in slow motion. I took the nearest chair and sank into it, putting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.

  And then I waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  A hand on my shoulder shocked me upright, but it was only Sue, coming to check on me. She didn’t ask how I was—that much could be read on my face.

  “Can I get you anything, Ollie? Some coffee? Something to eat?”

  “No,” I said, rubbing my face. “But thank you, Sue.”

  She squeezed my shoulder. “Holler if you need anything.”

  When the doors opened again, Reid’s parents came through, and I got to my feet.

  “They’re about to take him back, but he wanted to see you first,” his mom said. “We’re supposed to go to the waiting room on the fourth floor.”

  “Thanks,” I said, as I watched them go, and then I waited until the doors buzzed open again and hurried through.

  There was a notepad in Reid’s lap when I entered, and he quickly tore off the top page and folded it up.

  “Ollie,” he said. “Before I go, I wanted to—”

  “We’re ready for you, Reid,” Dr. Boswell said, entering the room with a team wheeling in a gurney.

  “But…” Reid gestured toward me. “Can I just have a minute with him. Please?”

  “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to get you ready in pre-op.”

  This was happening too fast. We hadn’t even had a chance to say what we needed to, and God knew I wasn’t ready for the possibility of losing him, no matter how irrational that fear could turn out to be. But the medic in me knew his life was on the line, and every second I held things up was a second that things could take a dramatic turn. I wouldn’t be able to live with that if anything happened to Reid.

  “You’ve got this,” I told him, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me if I let them out. I needed to be strong for him, even if I didn’t feel it.

  Reid reached out for my hand, and when I grasped it, he said, “I promise. I promise I’ll wake up to you.” Then he brought our joined hands up to his mouth and brushed a kiss on my palm, and before he let go, he transferred the piece of paper he’d been holding to me. “I’ll see you soon, Ollie.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  He smiled at me, a smile full of hope and maybe something more—love. Love, in the way you’d love your friend or a loved one. He couldn’t possibly mean it in any other way, but the sentiment was there all the same. You’re someone I love and care about. I’ll come back to you.

  I squeezed his hand and stepped away from the bed as they transferred him to the gurney, and as they loaded him up and wheeled him out of the room, Reid’s eyes stayed on mine. I followed along with him as far as I was allowed, but then we came up to a set of doors, and it was time. I brought my fingers up to my lips and he did the same.

  And then he was gone.

  No, not gone. Temporarily out of sight. He’d come through this better than ever.

  He had to.

  I was in a daze as I walked out of the emergency room. Had it only been a matter of hours since we’d woken up this morning, Reid lying peacefully next to me? I’d never taken any time with him for granted, wanting to savor every moment in case it was fleeting, but fuck… I’d never actually thought this would happen.

  The elevator was empty as I got in. I’d wait with Reid’s parents on the fourth floor. He’d be in and out of surgery—successfully—soon. And then life would get back to the bliss it had been these last few weeks.

  There just couldn’t be any other way.

  I wouldn’t think of it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I DIDN’T MAKE it to the fourth floor. Instead, I found myself walking out of the elevator, down through the lobby, and out the front doors of the hospital.

  I didn’t want to sit in uncomfortable silence with Reid’s parents while they may or may not ask questions that I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want to have to put on a brave face for them so they wouldn’t worry even more that I was a medic and I was panicking. And I didn’t want to read the note Reid had given me with anyone else around.

  Rain pounded the pavement, forcing me to stay under the awning of the entryway. Leaning against the wall of windows, I let my head fall back as I gulped in humid air. Part of me wanted to read the note immediately, but the other half knew whatever was inside would probably break me.

  Right now, the anesthesiologist was up there giving him the drugs that would put him into a deep sleep. I didn’t know how long the surgery would last or when I’d be able to see him after. I didn’t know if he’d wake up and smile at me, if there would be any complications. I didn’t know anything.

  I’d never felt more useless in my life.

  The folded note burned a hole in my palm. Read it, you chickenshit. Wasn’t that what Mike had always called me when he teased me about Reid? And now, here I was, with him, but too terrified to open a fucking note.

  He’d slap me if he saw me.

  Carefully, I unfolded the paper, and written in his neat scrawl on the page he’d torn off was a letter.

  Ollie,

  I know you’re worried. And maybe I am too.

  Strike that. I’m a lot worried. There. I admitted it. I’m fucking terrified, but I was trying not to show you.

  It doesn’t seem fair that I’m back here, but we haven’t gone through these last few weeks to give up now.

  I just found you. I’m not losing you, and I won’t forget you, no matter what happens.

  But if, somehow, the worst-case scenario comes true, I need you to promise me you won’t give up on me.

  Help me remember.

  Help me find my way back to you.

  Love,

  Your Bluebird

  Misty-eyed, I reread the letter once, twice, a dozen more times. I read it again and again until I had it memorized, and then I leaned against the windows again and closed my eyes. Even then I saw his words, and once again I felt the sinking dread of an oncoming disaster that I couldn’t stop.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to clear my mind and focus on the positive. That was the only thing I could control right now.

  Everything would be fine.

  As the rain let up and eased into a light sprinkle, I pushed off the glass. I walked down past the parking lot to the sidewalk that ran the perimeter of the huge complex and followed the path. I needed to walk off my nerves, and I needed the fresh air, neither of which would be found by sitting or pacing in the stuffy, confined waiting room, though I’d head up there soon enough. I kept an eye on the time, as well as Reid’s phone, in case there was an update and his parents called.

  But there wouldn’t be. Not yet. It was too early for tha
t.

  An hour passed and darkness fell as I made another loop around the hospital, and I started to get antsy. I couldn’t imagine brain surgery would last only an hour, but what did I know? I wanted to be there when he got out.

  A little over two hours in and I finally made my way up to the fourth floor. As I walked out of the elevator and into the waiting room, Reid’s father looked up from where he sat looking at something on his phone and inclined his head at me before going back to it. His wife had her eyes closed where she lay on his shoulder, but I had the feeling she wasn’t asleep. I thought they knew I wanted to be left alone. Or maybe it was them who wanted to be left alone. Either way, I was grateful for the silence.

  There were several other chairs filled, so I drifted to a corner by the window, where I’d still have a view of the doors whenever the surgeon came out to give us an update. Well, to give his parents an update. I’d be eavesdropping.

  Time passed. I stopped checking the time on my phone. Actually, since the battery was near dead, I turned the thing off completely. I’d messaged my boss earlier to let him know what was happening, and he’d filled my spot at work for the next day.

  It was some time later when the doors opened and Dr. Boswell walked out. I jumped to my feet as she headed in the direction of Reid’s parents and ran over behind them just in time to see her smile.

  “He did well,” Dr. Boswell said. “He did really well.”

  The relief I felt almost knocked me to my knees, as she explained in layman’s terms the details of the surgery and what would happen next in terms of recovery. But all I heard was that he was okay.

  No, better than okay. He’d done “really well.”

  The first smile in hours lifted my lips, and it wasn’t until Reid’s mom laid her hand on my arm that I realized I’d zoned out.

  “Go home, Ollie,” she said kindly. “Get some sleep. You can come back and see him first thing in the morning.”

  “But—”

  “None of us can see him for a while, and these chairs aren’t very comfortable for a nap. I promise I’ll call you if anything changes.”