Ever, Sarah (4 page)

“Too much at once. Look up.”

I did and the hacking cough slowly stopped.

“Your face is flushed. Are you feeling okay?” she asked as she took something off the table and held it to my forehead. I flinched. “I’m just checking to see if you have a fever.” She held the strip in place for a few seconds and looked at it. “Nope. No temperature. Try to get some rest. You’ve had a very busy day.” She looked back at me when she reached the door, “Try to relax, it was only a dream.”

I just nodded.

It was more than just a dream to me. It was a memory, I think.

“G
ood to have you back with us Sarah.” She said as she stood in the doorway.

“Thank you.” I said on behalf of Sarah.

Chapter Four

“Honey, are you hungry? I have some scrambled eggs and some tea.” A woman in blue scrubs said as she placed the tray down and pushed the table towards me.

“I am.” I was surprised at how hungry I was.

She stepped on the pedal and the bed rose up until I was in a sitting position. I felt the blood leave my head quickly and was surprised at how dizzy I got for a few moments.

“That okay?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need help?”

“No, I think I can do it.”

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked without emotion.

“No, thank you.” I whispered.

She removed the tray from last night and left, disappearing behind the slowly closing door.

I was glad for the time to myself to adjust to this new reality. The darkness outside was just giving way to light, it must be morning.

I grabbed the corner and managed to pull the tray table closer to me and pushed off the top that covered the plate.

I lifted a spoon, thinking I would most likely have better luck with it rather than the fork.

It was almost comical how clumsy I was. I might as well have had two left hands. I finally managed to get a good grip on the spoon I held, but the real trick proved to be getting the eggs from the plate into my mouth.

It was frustrating, but I managed to laugh at my attempt. I looked down and discovered half the eggs were on my lap.

I heard the door open and I looked up.

“Sarah?” His voice was startling but vaguely familiar. I wanted to close my eyes and turn away, but I was unable to.

I did notice that he was beautiful.

Just beautiful.

The most beautiful man I’d ever seen, as far as I could remember, which was all of four minutes.

He was a tall man with broad shoulders, hair black as night and the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen, and he stood just inside the door, flowers in one hand.

He had the biggest smile on his lips, revealing perfectly straight white teeth, and my heart beat faster at the mere sight of him. He was dressed in a dark navy suit with a light blue shirt and a dark blue tie that only intensified the blue of his eyes.

“Who are you?” My voice was shaking.

He quickly placed the flowers down on the table and crossed over to where I lay in the bed.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He took the napkin and removed the eggs I’d dropped in my lap. The fact that his hands were touching me in such an intimate way didn’t strike me as odd. What did, however, was how familiar he smelled; a mix of soap, outdoors and male. It was almost intoxicating.

“It’s me Sarah. Brad. You don’t remember me?” The pain that briefly masked his perfect features was evident. And those features…Holy Christ, all I could think was holy cow!

Strong jaw, dark, thick eyelashes, perfect brows and lips…lips that were excellent…and by excellent, I mean kissable. I found myself licking my own lips unconsciously. If not for the waxy taste on my tongue, I would never have known I had. I blushed.

“Don’t take it too personal, I don’t know who I am either.” I let out a small weird sounding laugh.

“Well,” he walked over to a chair, pulling it over to where the bed was and sat down, and with a sad look in his eyes, he continued, “you are Sarah Williamson, and I am Brad…Bradley Hunter. I don’t know if it is too much too soon, but we are engaged to be married, so that makes you my beautiful fiancée.”

The sound of the gasp that escaped me was probably heard in the hallway.

“Don’t look so horrified, I’m not that bad a catch.”

“It’s not that.” I looked at the wall, trying to find the words I wanted to use, but obviously memory loss has its disadvantages. “I’m having a hard time getting used to the fact that my name is Sarah. Every time someone calls me that, I feel frustrated that I don’t know my own name. Now you tell me that I’m engaged to you. A man I don’t know…or recognize. It’s just a little too much for me to grasp, and it took me by surprise.”

“I understand.” He looked somewhat melancholy.

“How long have I, um, been…disconnected?”

I must have looked ridiculous because he smiled that heart-stopping smile and I lost all train of thought.

“You’ve been ‘disconnected’ for just over five weeks. Actually, two days over five weeks to be exact.” He turned his head and his blues locked on mine.

“That long?” I stuttered. “I’ve been lying here for five weeks?”

“Not here. You were in ICU for over two weeks. Then you were put into the recovery ward for over a week. Then here.”

“Have you been here to see me, I mean, do you visit me often?”

“Every day.” He said simply.

“Oh.”

“How are you feeling?” He asked, and then continued before I could formulate an answer. “I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here and you are talking to me. I have been praying so hard for this day and now that it’s here, I don’t know what to say. I have to admit, I feel somewhat foolish.”

He smiled.

Heart raced.

“I feel weak. I’m clumsy. I can’t hold a damned spoon to save my life and I can’t put a face to my own name.” He looked at me oddly, “I have no clue what I look like. It’s all so confusing my head is spinning. And in three short minutes, I’ve found out that I am engaged to be married, I have a last name as odd to me as my first name…and I’m angry with myself for not being able to remember. Family. Do I have a family?”

“Yes. Your mother, who has also been in to see you every day as well, her name is Veronica Williamson. Your father, died before you had your accident. You don’t have any siblings.” He looked up to the ceiling and his eyes narrowed. I noticed that he was speaking very slowly, as if doing so will help it to sink in. “You’ve got three cousins, your mother’s sister Kate’s children; Lucy, who you are very close to, she’s been here to see you several times, Michael, her older brother and Nicholas, her younger brother. You have a great relationship with him. You call him your little bro.” He chuckled as he shook his head.

“It’s so strange not to know any of this. It’s like it’s all new to me. Like you’re creating my life as I lay here...” My voice drifted off.

“And as far as what you look like. You’re beautiful. You have long reddish brown hair with big…wait a second.” He stood and walked to the bathroom. I heard a few clings and clangs, but he successfully walked out of the bathroom carrying a mirror.

He looked at me, as if asking if I were ready and I nodded. Then he held the mirror in front of me and I stared at the stranger reflected back at me.

“And you have the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen.” He finished.

I reached out and touched the mirror as though I were touching myself. I didn’t picture this. I really didn’t picture anything, but this was totally foreign to me.

I had a rat’s nest for hair, pale complexion and big black circles under, okay, I’ll admit I liked the color of my eyes. Greenish, kinda. But
my
face—wow, it’s still strange to realize that it was
my
face—was gaunt, hollow and not very pretty at all.

“I’m ugly.” I whispered.

“You are most definitely not ugly. You have to realize you’ve been in a…you’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

“You can say coma. It’s okay. I know.”

“Coma.” He mumbled, almost to himself.

“Do you know what happened to me? How did I get here?” I asked.

It felt like it took me a full minute to say every sentence. I’m sure it wasn’t the case, but that’s what it felt like.

“How long have we known each other? Engaged? Do you have any proof I am who you say, and that we are…is there anything you can show me…something?”

“I can.” He looked somewhat taken back. Surprised I didn’t just trust him and take him at his word. “I can tell you everything I know. I can…I have…yes, I can
prove
everything you asked.” He looked down at the floor then back up at me. “But I’m sorry, I don’t know how….how it happened. I mean, what happened to you. All I know is that I came home from work to find you…” He shook his head and stood up abruptly walking to the other end of the room…I think I heard a string of profanity flow out between his tightening lips. He looked angry, and it was frightening.

I began to tremble.

“You’re scaring me.” I said, my voice low.

He spun to face me. “I came home to find you lying on the floor. Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead.” His face actually paled. “I wasn’t there for you. If I were there I could have prevented it.”

His face became red and I could see he was clearly agitated.

“I don’t remember any of what you just said. Did I fall?”

I didn’t want to say anything about the dreams I’d been having. Right now, I didn’t know who I could trust. Not yet.

“No one knows. The police investigated but found nothing conclusive.”

“There was an investigation.” I felt a chill run down my spine.

“Yes. I insisted on it. Sarah, you are not a clumsy person. You never ‘fall’. You were always active, athletic. You were in great shape. You ran every day. You never fell.” His voice was cold, tense and I could tell he was holding something back, which had me feeling even more uneasy than before.

He reached over and grabbed both my hands in his one. I’m sure it was to comfort me, but it did anything but.

“I’m sorry for frightening you. I’m just angry with myself for not being there.”

“I understand.” I didn’t, but I didn’t want him to get angrier. “What’s next? I mean what happens next?”

“The doctors will be in to speak with you later today.”

He walked over and unwrapped the flowers, and took them, as well as a vase that was sitting on the windowsill in the bathroom. I heard the water running. After a minute or two, he came out and placed the vase on the table next to me.

“Your favorite.” He half smiled. “You loved it every time I brought you home a bouquet. You always said ‘the simple daisy doesn’t get the credit it should’.”

I looked at the flowers; pure white petals surrounded a bright yellow center. Little white flowers sprayed here and there, adding brightness to the background of green leaves. The bouquet of daisies made me smile. I don’t understand why, but they took the edginess that had been building in the room and erased it.

I don’t know the reason I was feeling so unsettled, I could only attribute it to the fact that I can’t remember anything and was paralyzed by the darkness settling in my brain.

I didn’t think that not remembering anything could be so scary. Terrifying even. You start seeing everyone as the enemy because you don’t know who you could trust. And at this point, I was unable to make those judgments.

“Anyway, after your physical therapy, when they say you are okay to go home, I plan on taking you home. Our home.” He must have seen the shocked look on my face. “I’ve been doing a lot of research on your condition, and I totally understand the fears you have.” He looked at the ceiling again, as if the words he searched for were written there, “Sarah, the last thing I want is for you to feel tense, nervous or uncomfortable. When we go home, you will have the master bedroom to yourself and I will take one of the guest rooms.” He smiled sheepishly. “When and only when you’re ready, when some time passes, hopefully your memories will come back to you. Maybe then we can get back to things being the way they used to be, and pick up where we left off.”

I felt the heat rise right up my neck to my face and I smiled awkwardly.

He smiled at my awkwardness and I swear my heart skipped a beat.

I was thankful that he was this considerate of my feelings, and that he somewhat understood my need to feel safe until I felt more at ease. I was thankful he was patient and not pushing me in any way to be someone I don’t remember.

Of course, it would be disturbing having a stranger in my bed, even a beautiful stranger that I was engaged to be married to. And of course, there was a part of me that hoped to remember everything so we could ‘pick up where we left off’, but in either case, I believe I was looking forward to getting out of
here
. I don’t think ‘Sarah’ liked hospitals and although I was a bit trepidatious about going ‘home’, on the bright side, I was hopeful it would jog a memory or two. I wanted so much to feel like I belonged. To know myself, and who I am.