Forgetting You

by Casey, L. A.

  “I’m scared,” I whispered. “I’m scared because I don’t know how life will be for us.”

  “That feeling you’re experiencing is how I felt when I thought of us being married back before we broke up. I was so sure we’d crumble like my parents; I was terrified of the unknown.”

  I wrapped my arms around him.

  “How did we get here?” I mumbled. “I mean, I know how we got here, but how did it all happen like that? I never thought we’d break.”

  “I know, gorgeous. Me neither.”

  I surprised myself and Elliot when I kissed his neck. I felt a shudder run through him.

  “I’m struggling with a lot on my mind right now that I need to figure out for myself. I won’t lie to you, part of me is conflicted about trusting you after everything you’ve just told me, and since I can’t trust my memory, I have to go with the only thing I have left – and that’s my gut. I truly believe that I need you by my side as I go through this.”

  I felt Elliot relax completely, and he began to sway us from side to side, lulling me further into the arms of an exhaustion that was desperate to claim me in its embrace. On the brink of sleep, I flicked through my memories of the day. I felt like a rag doll being pulled in a hundred different directions, and even though part of me couldn’t completely trust Elliot – or my parents – I had to believe that what they were doing by keeping things from me was for my health.

  If I believed anything else, my head would split in two.

  Learning about my past should have given me perspective to help me figure out my future, but I would have been lying if I said relearning the things I had forgotten was easy. It was trying, heavy, and more than I could handle at times. I needed Elliot, and my parents, to help shoulder the weight.

  I prayed that this would be the biggest hurdle I would face – because if it wasn’t, I knew that my weakened body, and fragile mind, wouldn’t be able to take it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  NOAH

  It wasn’t uncommon for me to wake up in the middle of the night, but it was when I had been given morphine for pain. Normally, my mind was so foggy on it that I was in a constant state of droopiness for well over twelve hours. My body had never taken all that well to morphine, and I didn’t think it ever would.

  I felt a touch on my wrist and I instantly thought of Elliot. But when I opened my eyes, Elliot was not the person I was looking at. Staring back at me were eyes like black dahlias.

  “Hey, baby. I didn’t think you’d be awake. I missed you . . . I just wanted to see you.”

  I found myself smiling as I pulled myself into awareness.

  “Hi, Anderson.” I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  It was only two days since I’d seen him last, but two days in a hospital felt like two weeks. I pushed myself into an upright position and stretched. A glance towards the window of my room showed it was pitch black outside. It was the middle of the night, and my body knew it because I was exhausted.

  “I told you that I’d come back and see you.”

  “I know.” I yawned. “Time passes by so slowly in here. Hours feel like days. How are you?”

  I looked at him and was surprised by what I saw. He looked like an entirely different person. His dark circles were gone and so was his scruff, and his tired eyes were no more. His hair was styled, and his clothing was fresh.

  “I’m better,” he answered, drawing my attention back to his face. “How are you?”

  “You look better.” I smiled. “I’m doing good, slowly getting there. My memories still haven’t returned, and at this point I’m wondering if they ever will. It’s frustrating.”

  “It’s frustrating for me, so I can only imagine what it’s like for you,” Anderson said as he reached over and took hold of my wrist. He pressed his fingers against my skin – and when I smiled at him, he returned it.

  It struck me as odd that I realised in that moment how attractive he was. I couldn’t help but compare him to Elliot. Elliot’s very essence screamed masculinity, and while Anderson was very much a man, he appeared to be much more tame than wild. I still felt dominance radiating from him though, which I found odd. I’d never liked men who were the “me Tarzan, you Jane” type, but maybe I’d changed my mind . . . or maybe Anderson had changed it for me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to him, hoping he would hear the sincerity in my voice. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m sorry about this whole situation. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. I wish I could remember something about you, about our time together, to give me something to go off – but it’s all blank.”

  “Don’t worry, baby.” His hand on my wrist tightened ever so slightly. “We have all the time in the world for you to get to know me again.”

  He wasn’t wrong, but I knew that wasn’t something I wanted to explore. I was wholeheartedly in love with Elliot, and I wanted things to go back to the way they were . . . but a part of me also felt responsible for Anderson. I suddenly wished he had never come to visit me. Things were easier to dissect and think about when I wasn’t face-to-face with him. It was simpler to imagine getting on with my life without him in it when I didn’t have to speak to him or see him.

  It felt less personal, less like he was a real person.

  “Have you spoken to Doctor Abara?” I quizzed.

  “Yes,” Anderson said, leaning back in his chair but never taking his hand off my wrist. “I speak to him every evening; he’s kind enough to give me updates on you. Most recently was on the phone earlier tonight. He told me you had an . . . episode.”

  I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I couldn’t control the pounding of my heart. I knew Anderson could feel the change in pace of my pulse; his fingers were rested right on my wrist. He looked at my wrist, then back to me with a raised eyebrow. My stomach churned. Had Doctor Abara told him that Elliot and I had kissed? Or that he’d assisted me in the shower? I didn’t know this man from Adam, but I couldn’t control the sense of fear that filled me as I wondered if he’d found out. He would think I’d cheated on him even though, to me, he was still very much a stranger.

  “It was scary.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve had headaches constantly since I woke up, but I hadn’t had an episode like that since the first day or two, where the pain was so bad that it caused me to collapse.”

  “You’re okay now,” Anderson assured me. “Just take it easy – the doctor said you were overdoing it . . . trying to heal faster.”

  I practically deflated with relief.

  The doctor hadn’t told him anything private, and I was glad. I didn’t want to hurt Anderson; I needed time with him so I could eventually let him down easy. It occurred to me then that I had already made up my mind, with no room for argument. I wanted Elliot. He was my one. I was heartbroken for Anderson, and I felt awful knowing I intended to end our marriage, our entire relationship, but I couldn’t be with someone I didn’t know or care for. I didn’t even want to get to know him, which made me feel horribly cruel. But the fact was I didn’t want him.

  Not when I had Elliot . . . No man compared to him in my eyes, or in my heart, and no one ever would.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I guess because my headaches aren’t as bad, and my body is healing, I was getting restless here. It was a reminder than my brain is still hurting and I’ve a long way to go until I’m better.”

  “Do you remember what you were doing to bring on the pain?”

  I hesitated for a moment but didn’t see the point in hiding a conversation.

  “Elliot told me about why we broke up because I have no memory of it. I guess I was trying to remember what he told me for myself and my brain just checked out. One second I was talking and the next I was lying down with Doctor Abara leaning over me. He scolded me for not taking care of myself.”

  Anderson kept eye contact with me as I spoke, so I busied myself with fixing my blanket. His hold on my wrist didn’t hurt, but it was bot
hering me. His touch didn’t soothe me like Elliot’s did when he held my hand and brushed his thumb over my knuckles.

  “Elliot has been here a lot.”

  A statement, not a question.

  “Yes, along with my parents,” I added. “My mind is stuck in a period when they’re all I remember. Surely you understand that their presence comforts me, right?”

  “You left Elliot,” Anderson said bluntly. “You wanted more from him than what he could give you. You told me you had never loved anyone the way you loved me.”

  I felt like I couldn’t speak.

  “When I met you, we just clicked. Once we started talking, I soon found out that you were . . . depressed,” he said tentatively. “You don’t like medication so you didn’t want to see a doctor about it, but you were hurting in your mind. You had pulled away from your parents, your ex’s family, and it got so bad that you even quit your job not long later.”

  I stared at Anderson with my mouth agape. I’d left my job as a florist . . . something I adored and which brought me joy outside of all my relationships. My heart clenched with pain.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. “No one told me any of that.”

  “They probably didn’t know about your depression.” He shrugged. “It’s just been you and me for the past few years. We’ve been together nearly four years and married for three.”

  I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

  “I was depressed?” I blinked, bewildered.

  It made sense. After leaving Elliot I could imagine myself going into a pit of loneliness and sadness . . . but I’d never have pushed my parents away. I tensed when I suddenly remembered my mother speaking to me on the night I awoke from my coma. She’d said she was never letting us drift apart again.

  “Very depressed,” Anderson answered. “You were sad . . . but then we got close. We fell in love fast, and when I asked you to marry me, you said yes. We married ten months after we met. A whirlwind romance.”

  I felt like my heart was about to burst. I had left Elliot after being together for seven years, and jumped into a new relationship and married ten months later. That was beyond crazy to me. It didn’t sound like something I would do . . . but then again, neither did leaving Elliot because he didn’t want to get married.

  I tried to imagine myself entering a relationship with Anderson while I was still dealing with the hurt from breaking up with Elliot, and it dawned on me that Anderson must have been someone I felt a deep connection with in order for that to happen. I had always wanted security in my relationship, and since I’d lost that in Elliot, it made sense that I’d moved on with Anderson if he was someone I believed I could depend on.

  “This is . . . a lot to break down,” I said, lifting my hands to my head. “A lot.”

  The door to the room suddenly opened and I heard a female voice say, “It is way past visiting hours, sir. It’s three in the morning.”

  “I’m her husband,” was Anderson’s reply.

  That didn’t appease the nurse in the slightest, and I closed my eyes.

  “You’ll have to leave, sir. Now.”

  “Okay,” Anderson grunted. “Allow me to say goodbye to my wife . . . she’s hurting and wants me here.”

  I couldn’t speak; an ache was forming and I was trying not to think too hard, but how could I not? Anderson had just told me a secret about myself that I would have preferred remaining ignorant of. When I opened my eyes again, the nurse was gone, and I was alone with Anderson.

  “She’s getting you painkillers; she’ll be back soon.”

  “Not morphine,” I said. “I hate that stuff, it makes me feel sick. I don’t take to it well. A little bit of it and I’ll be drowsy for hours.”

  Anderson nodded, slowly.

  “Try to relax,” he soothed, his thumb moving back and forth across my wrist. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you things from your past that could upset you . . . the doctor said information like this is overwhelming and could harm you, but you had a right to know, baby. It’s only been the two of us . . . now they want to keep you away from me. My own wife.”

  My head was hurting, but through the fog of pain I could hear the anger in Anderson’s tone, and to an extent I could understand it. He felt ambushed by Elliot and my family, who had apparently not been in my life for the last few years. Some of this new information was clearly among the things that Elliot had decided to keep from me for my own good. I couldn’t lie, I was somewhat angry at him for leaving out that I’d jumped into a brand-new relationship not long after I left him.

  That was something I’d needed to fucking know.

  “I’ll hold off on visiting you again for a while.” Anderson gained my attention once more. “The doctor wants me to wait until your mind is stronger to merge our lives back together, but your family, and him, are making things difficult, so I want you to memorise my number and our home address. When you learn the things that are being kept from you, you can come to me. You’ll be safe with me and I’ll be honest with you . . . like I always have.”

  I groaned. “What things?”

  “You’ll learn,” he answered gruffly. “Your parents, and him, will fill in the blanks for you.”

  I felt like the years I couldn’t remember had been lived by a stranger inside my body, because the things that I had done, the decisions that I had made, were just not things that I could imagine doing in my current frame of mind. I couldn’t believe that I had done the things people had told me about and I found myself wishing it was all a big lie or a horrible nightmare, but I knew it wasn’t. This was my life now . . . and I somehow had to figure it out without making any more dire mistakes.

  “Anderson,” I said, licking my lips. “This is really a lot for me to deal with.”

  His anger suddenly vanished, and an expression filled with concern came over his features.

  “I know, baby,” he murmured. “But I’m going to help you get through this, okay?”

  I didn’t want his help, but how could I turn him away? The man was innocent in all of this; he’d done nothing wrong other than love and marry me. It wasn’t his fault I was in an accident and had lost my memory.

  “Okay,” I answered, my eyes feeling heavy.

  We spent a few minutes with him telling me his phone number and home address, and when I could say them by heart he gave me a smile. I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer and allowed them to drift shut.

  “You’re mine, Noah,” his voice whispered. “I’ll not let them take you away from me.”

  I hummed in response – not really hearing his words, only the sound of his voice, which was soothing in that moment.

  “Sleep,” Anderson said softly. “This will all be over soon.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ELLIOT

  “Well, slap my arse and call me Daisy! Irish is here!”

  I heard shouts, laughter and whoops from all corners of the station as Pretty jumped to his feet and crossed the common room. He embraced me in a hug and patted the hell out of my back. I stepped back and grinned as he scowled at me.

  “You’re not allowed around my wife.” He roughly shoved my chest, sending me stumbling backwards. “She thinks you’re ‘ruggedly handsome’ without your ten-inch homeless-man beard. Why’d you have to go and get all groomed?”

  I snorted. “Noah’s orders.”

  “Her word was always law with you.” His lips twitched. “How is she doing?”

  “She’s getting there, she’s on the mend.”

  I didn’t mention about her collapsing the day before, because I was still reeling from the shock of it. Explaining it to my friends would be like reliving it all over again, and I was doing my best not to think about it.

  I smiled when my other buddies filed into the room. Tank, Stitch and Texas were walking behind AJ, laughing at something he’d said. I got fist bumps and manly hugs with a lot of back-patting before everyone took a seat.

  “How’s the watch goin’?” I asked.

&nbs
p; “Not a peep so far,” Pretty answered. “I never really want the siren to go off because I don’t want people hurt or worse, but days like this drag.”

  Tank rolled his eyes. “Hit the gym with me then. You don’t have to sit on your arse.”

  “I’m not working out with you,” Pretty grunted. “I nearly died the last time. Not everyone can lift what you can, you fucking mountain.”

  I looked between them, grinning. The banter between my friends was one of the reasons coming to work on days that were rough were worth it. I had known these guys for years, and they were truly a good group of men even though no insult was too far for them when it came to giving me stick.

  “Frenchie, Wilds, Tune, Pops and Boyo are out in the drill yard. If you don’t want to go join them, you can help me clean the kitchen and maintain some equipment when Irish leaves,” Stitch piped up, his rank as watch manager clear. “You’ll become a part of the sofa otherwise at this rate, mate.”

  Pretty made the motion with his hand to suggest he thought Stitch was a wanker, making me snort.

  “How’s Noah?” Tank asked.

  “She’s orderin’ me around, so she’s back to her old self.”

  The lads snorted.

  “How are you dickheads?” I looked around the room. “Families all good?”

  I got a chorus of “yes”, which pleased me, and they all began to talk over one another.

  I glanced around at each man and found myself thinking of the times I’d spent with them. Losing my sister, and almost losing Noah, had made me sit back and reflect on the life I’d led over the past few years. There were many drunken nights in clubs and pubs that had ended with me having meaningless sex with women whose faces blurred together, and for a long time I’d thought that was what I was living for: the bliss of a night out and the company of an unknown, willing woman to force the hurt I felt from my heart and mind.

  I looked at my friends as they spoke about something their wives had done that was funny or how their babies had had a nappy explosion at three in the morning, and my priorities suddenly shifted. I listened to their stories and saw the happiness on their faces as they spoke, and things I was once scared about didn’t seem scary any more. Marrying Noah had terrified me because I was scared that our relationship would end like my parents’ had, but I realised that my and Noah’s relationship wasn’t like my parents’, or her parents’, or anyone else’s.