Two years ago, Bennett and I had been married for five years and we were still very much in the honeymoon phase. We couldn’t be in a room without being on top of each other. Our sex life couldn’t be more passionate and carnal and we were talking about taking our family from two to three.
When hands find my shoulders and help me to stand up straight, I see Wren’s eyes fixed on me. “I think you’re having a panic attack.” He holds a bag up to my face and I shake my head before I turn to the bedridden man who looks as if he’s about to rip out his IVs to get to me.
“Baby, you’re scaring the shit out of me, what’s going on?” Bennett’s eyes are wide, his nostrils flaring and he’s flexing his hands every few seconds, a sign he wants to touch me but can’t.
Wren’s eyes slowly move to his, probably in question of hearing the term of endearment he called me before turning his gaze back to me. “Uh-huh!” I answer his unspoken question.
“Am…am I missing something?” He pushes his glasses to the top of his head, confusion written all over his face, and I shake my head in response.
Are you back together? I can practically hear him asking.
“No.”
He turns to Bennett and pulls his flashlight out again. “B, what’s going on, man?”
“You tell me? I’m fine, but Livi looks like she’s about to lose it. Stop fussing over me, I’m fine. What’s going on with her?” He tries to look at me again. “Come over here.”
I ignore his command, even though somewhere deep inside, my body wants to listen. He still knows how to make my body respond to his voice and I hate the traitorous feeling. “Wren, can I talk to you outside?”
“Outside? What for? If this is a joke, I am far from amused.” Bennett groans rubbing a scraped up hand through his luscious chestnut hair. Wren and I are silent as we watch him slide his left hand out of his hair and stare at it for a second. “Hey, hand me my ring, will you? It feels so strange not having it on.” He rubs the finger. “I’m kind of surprised I don’t see the indent of it.”
I look at Wren, my eyes widening as if to say, you see! “Okay, alright, B, humor me for a second alright?” He crosses his arms and stares at him. “Just need to do a couple things. Name. Birthday. Where do you live?”
He rolls his eyes. “Bennett Clarke. March 23, 1980. In SoHo. I have a very expensive, overpriced three bedroom apartment that I share with my wife Olivia Clarke, are you happy?” He meets my gaze and gives me a small smile, though it fades when I’m sure he sees the look of pure horror on my face.
“Alright.” He nods and turns towards me. “So, we’ll run a couple tests. An MRI and potentially a CAT scan. Everything’s going to be fine. This is normal. It’ll probably restore over the next few hours. Confusion is very common in these situations.”
“Confusion?” Bennett snorts. “I’m not confused. Livi, did I make any of that up?” I don’t know what to say as he looks me over and I suddenly feel the overwhelming need to sit down. “Fuck. Wren, get her some water.”
I shake my head. “I—I’m fine.”
“You need to drink some water,” he commands, and I feel a sense of nostalgia wash over me hearing his words. He was always telling me to drink more water. “Wren, get her some. If she passes out, I’ll kick your ass. Fuck all of this.” He waves at the monitors and the wires hooked up to him.
There’s a chair to the right of his bed, and before I can think I’m lowering myself onto the hard uncomfortable cushion, feeling the weight of the day physically pressing down on my shoulders. Wren hands me a glass of water and I take a slow tentative sip becau
se I’m not sure I won’t be sick at any second. “Good girl.” I hear Bennett using that voice and it instantly breathes life into me.
The voice he uses when I’m sick and he’s taking care of me. The voice he uses when he’s taking care of me that way.
Fuck fuck fuck.
He’s fucking with me.
This is all a dream.
There’s no way he thinks we’re still married.
That we’re still happy.
I look up at him and he nods, telling me to drink more and despite not wanting to obey him, I comply. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “You drive me crazy, Mrs. Clarke.”
Hearing him call me that makes the dam burst, and suddenly the tears are flying down my face. I don’t look up but I hear him moving and Wren trying to keep him on the bed. “Let me fucking go, Wren. Why is she crying? Why is she so fucking upset? What the fuck is going on? Someone better start talking right now.”
One of the machines begins to beep rapidly. My lip trembles as Wren tries to appease him. “Your blood pressure is skyrocketing, you need to calm the fuck down, B.”
“Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down. Look at Olivia! No one is telling me anything and you know what seeing her upset does to me.”
I squeeze my eyes together even harder. Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.