Forgetting You

“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?”