“He’s her father!” I roar. I take a step toward her. “You have no rights to our daughter. None. The game is over. You lost. Move on.” I turn on my heel. I can’t look at her, and there is no reasoning with her. She’s lost her mind.
“Delaney!” she screams, and I ignore her until I feel a yank at my hair. The pain is instant, and so is what happens next. I feel my feet slip out from under me, the thin layer of snow frozen over has me slipping. I hear Kenton call out for me. I feel the pain as it radiates in my hip as I go down and then nothing. My world fades to dark.* * *Beep. Beep. Beep.
The annoying sound pulls me from sleep. Slowly, I force my eyes open and am greeted with soft white lights. Turning my head, I see Kent sitting in a chair. His head is resting on the side of the bed, my hand held tight in his. I take a minute to survey what I’m feeling. My hip hurts, my wrist is wrapped, and other than that, I feel fine. I woke up initially in the ambulance on the way to the ER. Kent was there, by my side, like a pillar of strength.
How could my mother say such awful things about a man like him? He’s selfless and loving, and it’s his honesty that’s helped me see what was really happening. My mother spent years manipulating me. I feel like such a fool. While I know it’s the memory loss, I hate that I couldn’t see through her and her lies.
Looking at him sleeping at my bedside, my heart is full. He’s everything I never knew I really wanted. Then again, I guess I did know back then. I like the thought of even then, I knew he was special.
“Kent,” I whisper, wiggling my fingers, trying to get his attention.
His head pops up and his eyes are red. “Laney,” he exhales.
“How long have I been here?”
“Just a few hours.”
“Kendrix?”
“She’s with my parents. I told them not to tell her. I called her and told her she got to have a sleepover. She was excited. When she asked to talk to you, I told her you were sleeping, and that you loved her.” His voice cracks.
“My mother?”
“The waiting room. I told them she wasn’t allowed back. She fought it until Mr. Garcia and I told them how you fell. She’s lucky they don’t haul her ass off to jail.”
“It wasn’t an accident. I don’t think she meant to hurt me, but she meant to grab for me.”
“I know. Fuck, Laney, you could have been hurt so much worse. You need to decide if you want to press charges.”
“No. I just want it to be over. I know she’s beating herself up about this. She’s controlling but she’s not violent. This has never happened before. She felt like she was losing control. She lost control.” I pause, trying to take stock of my injuries. “What’s the verdict?”
“Bruised hip, sprained wrist. You’ll be sore for a few days, but you’re going to be fine.” He stands and kisses my cheek before burying his face in my neck. “I missed you, Laney,” he whispers, and something flashes in my mind. It’s the two of us lying in… a bed? He whispers those same words to me. It’s the same deep timbre of his voice and the warmth his words cause inside.
“Kent.”
“Yeah, baby?” He pulls back, and his red-rimmed eyes find mine.
“Have you said that to me before? That you missed me?”
“Of course I have. I always missed you when you went back to school.”
“I-I remember us lying in a bed and you saying that to me.”
He smiles. “Every damn time. Every time you came home, I told you that. You remember?”
“It’s more of a flash, a snippet in time, but I remember, or at least I think I do. It’s too much like déjà vu for it not to be real.”
“It’s real.”
I smile. It’s such a small thing, but it gives me hope that I’ll remember it all one day. I want our time together. “How long do I have to stay?”
“Knock, knock,” a male voice says, entering the room. “I’m Dr. Whitman. You took a nasty tumble,” he tells me.
“Ice-covered stairs.”
He chuckles. “You’re not the first and certainly won’t be the last.” He goes on to tell me about my bruised hip and sprained wrist. “You need to take it easy for a few days and let your body heal. I’ll send the nurse in with discharge papers.”
“Dr. Whitman, I was in an accident and lost my memory from a small period of time. Could this fall, could that make my memories come back?”
He smiles sadly. “No. However, that doesn’t mean they won’t. The brain can be confusing, but often we find those memories are blocked due to trauma or some other contributing factor. It’s a coping mechanism.”