“Of course it is. I told you, I consider all the angles. The agents sent by the security company will be under strict instructions regarding you. They are to ensure your safety as long as you want to remain here. If you want to go, you’re free to go, but you can’t take Michelle away, no matter what you say”.
Before I knew what I had done, I had risen to my seat and flown across to Mitch, raising my hand, intending to slap him hard across the face. Mitch moved just as quickly as I had, and grabbed my raised arm, pulling me down to his lap and holding me there, despite my struggles to get up.
“How dare you? You can’t take my daughter away from me”, I growled, breathing heavily due to my ineffectual struggles.
Mitch held my arm with one hand, and with his other arm clamped around my backside he held me firmly in his lap, and I couldn’t get the leverage to get off him.
“Think, Helen, think. Whether I believe you or not, Michelle is a bargaining chip against either you or me. Whether you were an innocent victim, or whether you were in it up to your pretty neck, someone could grab Michelle and try to use her to force you to tell them where the money is. It doesn’t matter whether you know or not, it’s enough that they might think you know”.
As the reality of what Mitch had said sunk in, I stopped struggling. He was right, Michelle was in danger no matter what. At that thought, all kinds of nightmare scenarios started playing through my mind, where Michelle was kidnapped and held as a hostage against my missing memories. As the horrible thoughts of what could happen to her played through my mind, the tears began to fall again, and I tried again to pull away from Mitch, this time in an attempt to hide my tears from him. Just as before, Mitch refused to release me. This time, he was more gentle, letting go of my raised hand, and as it fell, he used his long fingers to gently brush the tears from my face.
“Oh, Helen, don’t cry. I always hate it when you cry. I didn’t want to scare you, just to make you face facts”.
I looked into his eyes, his face so close to mine, and without realizing what I was doing, I leaned down, brushing my lips against his. At first Mitch didn’t respond, then it was as if a switch flicked on inside him, and his lips were warm and hungry against mine, his tongue dueling with mine as his hands kneaded my butt, pulling me closer to him so that my core was rubbing over his rock hard erection. With a moan, I wriggled my feet so that they were nestled into the seat behind his back, and pulled myself even closer to Mitch, rubbing myself against him as his hands slipped up under my top and roamed across my bare skin. With a quick flick, Mitch had both my top and my bra up and over my head, and buried his head in my chest, suckling first on one breast then another, holding me tight with one hand under my butt while the other caressed the breast that wasn’t enjoying the attentions of his mouth. I threw back my head and let out a long, low sigh of pleasure as the multiple sensations began to overwhelm me. I rocked against Mitch, rubbing myself faster and faster against him as he drew a nipple into his mouth, rolling it around between his tongue and his teeth, and the hand that had been caressing my breasts moved down lower, fumbling at the button on my jeans. I felt the button give way, and the zipper slide down, and then Mitch’s hand, warm and questing, was working its way inside my panties, and seeking my sensitive flesh. I could feel Mitch’s hand brushing over my clitoris, his fingers trying but failing to gain access to my channel, which by now was soaking wet. Mitch groaned as he couldn’t get the access he wanted, due to the way I was sitting on him, and how hard I was riding him, and that sensation against my breast tipped me over the edge, I pushed my breast forward as I fell forward, clutching his head to me as I felt an orgasm hit me, moaning on an indrawn breath as I experienced pleasure that I couldn’t remember, but was sure I had felt before. It felt so familiar, that I knew it must always have been like this. As my breathing slowed, I started to think about where I was, and what I had done. I stayed with my head leaning over the top of Mitch’s head, unable to sit back and look at him, feeling very uncomfortable and awkward. What must he think of me? Finally Mitch put a hand either side of my waist and sat me back a little, then cupped his hands under my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“What’s the matter Helen? You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that, because I’m pretty sure you did”.
“I can’t believe what I just did. I just dry humped you to an orgasm. I’ve never done that before, or have I?”
Mitch looked at me quizzically, then smiled. I stared at his face, marveling at how a simple smile could change him, and make him even more handsome than before. He shook his head slightly before answering.
“Don’t be embarrassed Helen. If your recollection is correct, it’s been a while for you. For me too. You have no idea how much I missed hearing you moan my name as you came, and yes, you have done that before. Usually as foreplay, but maybe not tonight”.
“Why not?” I felt a little guilty, I could still feel a sizeable bulge in Mitch’s lap, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to do anything about it, even though I had experienced my own climax. Had I really moaned his name? I supposed that I had, but I hadn’t been conscious of doing it. Mitch ran a hand through my hair, looking at me wistfully as he did.
“I want more than sense memory from you Helen. Even though I’m still as hard as rock for you, I don’t just want sex from you. I want you to remember me, I want you to remember us, before we take this any further. Right now I’m still a virtual stranger to you, and I don’t want us to be two strangers fucking just because it feels good, I want us to be the people we used to be, I want my wife Helen to make love to me like she used to”.
My eyes misted up as I thought about what Mitch must be going through. It still annoyed me that he still harboured some doubts about me, although I could tell that they were lessening as time went on. But from his perspective, he had lost his wife, even though a woman who looked like her was living in his house. He had lost the first two years of his daughter’s life, and he could never get that back. I ran the back of my hand gently down his cheek.
“I want that too. I want to remember you, I want to remember our past, how we met, what we used to talk about, what it was like the first time we made love, all of that. What can we do?”
“What sort of counselling did you get, when it became obvious you had lost your memory, what did they suggest?”
“I was a public patient, Mitch. Everything was very minimal. I had a counsellor, but couldn’t check in that often, so I really didn’t get to do much more than talk about how things were going in the present. We didn’t have time to try to find out about my past. I didn’t have the money for private therapy, so I just had to hope that one day, something would jog my memory”.
Mitch frowned as I explained my lack of help.
“Well, how would you feel about working with a psychiatrist or psychologist? I don’t know how we could recover your memory, but would you be willing to give it a try?”
“Of course I would. Do you think I like having no recollection of who I am? Or that it was so easy for me to believe I was someone else? I hate it. I want to be me again, warts and all”.
As I spoke, I stood up and looked around for my clothing, putting my bra and t-shirt back on, and fastening my jeans again. Mitch stood and moved towards me, putting his hands to my upper arms and holding me in place.
“Are you sure, Helen? What if the memories you get back aren’t good ones? Will you be able to cope with that?”
I nodded at Mitch, and he pulled me in close for a hug. I closed my eyes as I nestled into his chest, happy that at least we seemed to be working together for a change, instead of against each other.
~
It shouldn’t have surprised me that once Mitch made his mind up, things happened quickly. Late the next day, a strange man came to the door. I didn’t pay a lot of attention as there always seemed to be staff members coming and going, and most of them didn’t seem to care for me, so I had quickly learned not waste my time trying to be friendly to them. I
t wasn’t only Mitch’s office staff, but apparently there was also a daily woman who came to the apartment to clean and to prepare the evening meal if required. She made it clear early in the day that she remembered me, and although she was outwardly polite, I got a very clear impression that she didn’t like me, and was only restraining herself from outright rudeness because she didn’t want to risk her job. Mitch was so busy in his study that he didn’t come out all day, and didn’t get to see any of the tiny slights his staff dealt me, and most of them were so slight that I wouldn’t even have known what to complain of even if I had thought I should. So Michelle and I spent the day in either her room or mine playing with toys or reading. For a brief period in the afternoon, we had ventured out for a walk and to go to the park, shadowed by Jeff, one of the guards that Mitch had hired. I had felt so self conscious that I couldn’t stay out very long, so Michelle and I headed back to the apartment, both of us dragging our feet. Michelle was walking slowly because she was tired, I was walking slowly because the apartment was beginning to feel like a prison, and it had only been a day since I had first walked through the doors. Jeff offered to carry Michelle, but I shook my head, instead walking slower to accommodate her, until I could put it off no longer and we returned to the luxury apartment that I was quickly beginning to loathe. I stripped Michelle of her outer clothing, leaving her clad only in her singlet and nappy, and put her in her cot for an afternoon nap, expecting her to have a long sleep as she was really tired. I wandered into my room and sat on my bed, staring sightlessly at the view out of the window.
I shouldn’t be so ungrateful, I thought to myself, berating myself for my mood. In Michelle’s short life, I had been grateful for rare days like today, when I had nothing to do but play with Michelle, and then rest while she napped, but that was when I was always so busy earning an income to keep a roof over our heads, and food in our bellies. Now that I didn’t have to do that, time hung heavily on my hands. I could have gone out into the lounge room and explored the entertainment system that I had seen there, and maybe entertained myself with some music or a movie, but that would have meant going out into the apartment where I might have met Sonia or Mark, who always seemed to make some snide comment about how lucky I was to have nothing to do. Although they said it with a little titter, as if they were envious, I could tell from their tone, and the look in their eye that they thought I was just some sort of gold digger, and not only was I using Mitch for financial security, but I had inexplicably stolen from him, and run away from him, and therefore I was even worse than that.
So I sat on my bed, wondering where the nearest library was, and resolving to find it and join it tomorrow. At least if I had to hide in my room I could try to lose myself in a book. Without something to do, I didn’t know how I was going to fill my days in this room. It was while I was in this morose mood, feeling sorry for myself, that I heard a decisive rap at my door, and turned my head to see Mitch opening the door and looking at me quizzically.
“Helen? Aren’t you feeling well? Why are you in here at this time of the day?”
“I’m just resting, we’ve just come back from the park and Michelle is having a nap, so I was just sitting here thinking. Why? Have you got something for me to do?”
Some of my eagerness for some activity must have transmitted itself to Mitch as his brow furrowed for a moment before he spoke again.
“I’ve got a doctor here to see you. He didn’t have any appointments free today, but he said he would like to meet you on his way home, and if you like him he can set up an appointment schedule for you”.
I stood up quickly, eager both for the diversion and for the chance to make something happen about my missing memory. Mitch turned and I followed him down the hallway and into the lounge room. Thankfully it was empty. As we approached, a fortyish man stood and smiled at me. His eyes looked kind, and I decided that I liked him, without even speaking to him. Even though he would be on Mitch’s payroll just like everyone else, at least he was here for me, and maybe he would be nicer than everyone else. He stepped forward, maintaining his smile as he extended his right hand. I clasped it with mine and smiled as he spoke.
“Mrs Barrow? Can I call you Helen? My name is David Harris, can you call me David? I like to keep things informal wherever possible. I have to say I’m very excited to meet you. Your husband has told me about your accident, and your loss of memory, and despite what Hollywood would have us believe, that’s pretty rare. I’d love a chance to work with you and see if we can fix your little problem”.
I laughed at his description. It didn’t seem like a little problem, but I liked his positive attitude. We all sat down and David leaned forward, looking at Mitch as he spoke.
“Now, I understand we’re alone here? I saw a few people leaving just now, and I don’t usually work outside of my office, I prefer to keep things confidential, I’m sure you understand”.
“We’re quite alone, there’s just the three of us, and a child. Everyone else has left for the day, as you requested”.
“Good, good. Now, as I explained to you, I’m happy to have you here while I gather some background information, but I’d like to speak to Helen privately after that. If we can’t do that here, we can wait until tomorrow”.
My head ping ponged between the two men as David laid out his cards. Mitch looked a bit chagrined, but nodded.
“I’ve got a study I can go to when you think it’s time. I don’t want to get in your way while you work with Helen, I’m sure you can understand we’re both anxious for her to recover her memory as soon as possible”.
David nodded, but then continued quietly, turning to me as he spoke.
“Well, as I explained to your husband, the quantity and quality of memory recovery can’t be guaranteed. A lot of it depends on how much of the loss is caused by physical trauma, and once I receive the medical reports and can review them, I’ll have a better picture. Your memory might come back to you completely, or it might be segmented. Or it might come back to you in part at first, but improve later, we really can’t predict how these things will work”.
I nodded, this much at least had been explained to me. At my nod, David picked up a notepad and pen that had been resting on the coffee table, flipped to a blank page and spoke, glancing between us.
“Ok then. Helen, I want you to talk me through the first things you remember when you first regained consciousness, and then anything that might have come back since then. Then, if we have time, I’d like to get some background from you, Mitch, on what was happening just before your disappearance”.
“What do you mean?” asked Mitch.
“Well, it would seem Helen can’t tell me much, but whatever you can would be helpful. Was Helen happy, sad, worried about anything? Was there anything unusual going on in your lives? I googled you, Helen, and I found out about the kidnapping, so if there’s anything you can tell me about those events, that might help. If there’s any reason that you might not want to remember your past, we need to consider whether that’s why you can’t”.
Mitch looked darkly at me, then hesitated. I knew that he was trying to spare my feelings in front of David, who was still just a stranger to us, but decided that therapy could not work if I kept secrets from my therapist. While there was probably a lot I would want to talk to him about privately, there were some things that I wanted to air openly.
“Mitch isn’t convinced I was kidnapped. He thinks I might have staged the whole thing”.
David started slightly, but like a professional, managed to rein in his surprise. He turned to Mitch and spoke quietly, his pen poised over his notepad.
“So, why would you think that?”
Mitch sat back in his chair, glaring at me briefly before softening his expression.
“I didn’t at first. I was distraught when Helen went missing, and then when the ransom demand arrived I was so afraid that something would go wrong. I paid the ransom, following all the instructions that were given to me, but she never c
ame back. When the kidnappers failed to return Helen, I called in the police, something they had warned me not to do at the start. What I wasn’t expecting from the investigation was that I would become a suspect myself, and it was during one of the many interrogations I had to endure that I started to wonder why we hadn’t heard anything. It was something the police said, about why Helen’s body hadn’t turned up, that made me believe, made me hope she was still alive. Then I couldn’t help but wonder why, if Helen was still alive, she hadn’t returned. I didn’t want to think that Helen was staying away by choice, but then when I stumbled across her alive and well in New Zealand, having apparently fled there with one of the kidnappers, well, it became more and more difficult to understand how she could have gone there unwillingly”.
I stared at Mitch incredulously. This was the first I had heard about him being interrogated by the police.
“But why, Mitch? Why would the police suspect you of having me kidnapped?” I queried.
Mitch stared at me, seeming to forget that David was in the room.
“They didn’t suspect me of having you kidnapped, Helen. They regarded me as a suspect in your murder”.
My hands flew to my mouth. Mitch had been suspected of having killed me? It was David who spoke then.
“What would your motive have been for killing your wife?”
Mitch looked at David then, staring at his pen poised above his notepad before looking back at me, and answering David’s question while staring into my eyes.
“Obviously they thought I had killed her because of the money”.
~
“Can you explain that please?” David asked. “It might be obvious to you, but not to me, and judging by Helen’s expression, not to her either”.
Mitch hadn’t taken his eyes off me, and while he continued to watch me, he answered David’s question.
Forgotten Husband Page 6