Chapter 22
—Kasey—
Guilt swept through me as I lay back against the starchy hospital linen. My head pounded, and my boobs felt like they were about to burst, all while aches and pains consumed my exhausted body, making it desperately scream for sleep.
Fighting it, I cracked an eye open and rolled my head toward the nurse. “Can I have more painkillers?”
“Let me check your chart, honey.”
As she read, my mind wandered. Despite having no memory of Reed, the sheer hurt in his expression tore strips off my heart. I obviously meant a whole lot to him, and it confused me that I couldn’t remember.
And I’d been a bitch. Not because I’d wanted to, but because I was scared. Between learning of Tyler treating me badly, hearing how Reagan had died, and now giving birth to a baby I didn’t know I’d carried that belonged to a man I didn’t remember, I was out of my mind terrified. My world as I’d known it no longer existed.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” I whispered, my voice sounding distant and strange to my own ears.
My nurse looked up at me from my notes. “What’s that, hon?”
“The baby?”
She nodded solemnly. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m sorry that this is so much for you to take in, but yes, it’s true. And as far as I’ve heard, Reed had no idea you were pregnant. We also believe that you didn’t know either.”
Careful not to tangle or tug the IV tubes inserted in the back of my trembling hand, I covered my mouth in disbelief. Tears gathered in my eyes. No matter how fast I blinked them away, they swamped and blurred my vision.
“Why don’t I remember? I should remember that, right?” Tendrils of fear-induced anxiety crept through my chest. I could feel their barbed fingers digging into my lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.
Her cool fingers tenderly found my hand and anchored me. “It’s a normal part of the injury process and in most cases, patients recover most of their long-term memories.”
I closed my eyes and let the tears roll down my cheeks. Thank God I remembered my parents and Simone. Otherwise, I’d be completely alone in... in... in Idaho of all fucking places.
I slipped into a sleep that arrived without warning. Into the calm place, entirely blank and quiet.
~
The next time I woke, it was with a start and violent jerk, sending pain rippling throughout my body. The strangest feeling tingled over my chest, and my breasts were clamping in pain.
“Nurse,” I called out, holding my swollen boobs in my hands. “They’re so sore and—” To my horror, my hospital gown was soaked down the front. I burst into tears as the nurse reached my side. “I’m wet.”
“It’s okay, honey,” came the nurse’s soft reassurance. “This is normal after giving birth. Your body is providing for your baby.”
The tears fell thicker and faster. I didn’t want this. None of it. The pain. The confusion. The bodily reactions to something I had zero connection to. I wanted out and away from it all.
“Let’s get you changed, honey,” the nurse said, flapping out a fresh gown and having towels on hand.
She helped me to sit up, and that’s when I felt a surge of unexpected wetness pool down below. I reached between my legs to feel thick pads wedged against me.
My nurse quickly but tenderly explained. “There’s a surprising amount of bleeding after birth, even with a drain in. I’ll change your sanitary products too while we’re doing this—make you all fresh and cozy again.”
I burst into tears. “I don’t want this. Please, make it stop. Can’t you give me something?”
“Aww, I know, sweetheart. You’ve had a rough ol’ time, haven’t you.” The middle-aged woman carefully sat on the edge of my bed and gave me a reassuring hug.
I cried into her shoulder, feeling helpless and at the mercy of forces I wished I could control.
“You know what? How would you like to try a shower?” she suggested. “Might be a bit nicer than a bed wash at the moment, eh?”
That caused me to cry harder and shake my head. “I don’t knooooow,” I bawled.
“There there. I’ll get things prepped, then we’ll get you sorted. You’ll feel much better, trust me.”
After one last tender hug, she left my bed. I could hear her moving things around in the adjoining bathroom while I tried to pull myself together. No amount of deep breathing and palming my eyes dry helped, but she was right—the shower certainly did. God, it felt heavenly against my bruised and battered skin. Seeing the damage my body had sustained was horrifying, but I knew the bruising would fade and the pain would heal. What worried me most was the memory loss.
After the nurse had cleaned me up and tenderly washed and dried me from head to toe, I sat on the bed behind the pulled curtain while she helped me to re-dress.
My thoughts kept bouncing between the pangs of pain in my torso and lower stomach, and the baby that supposedly came from my body.
Maybe if I saw it with my own eyes, it would trigger missing parts of the puzzle.
On a leap of faith and held breath, I asked, “Can I go and see it? The baby?”
The words felt foreign on my tongue. As far as I remembered, I hadn’t planned on having a family anytime soon. Then again, I hadn’t planned on moving to Idaho for a guy either, but apparently that was part of the plan.
My nurse smiled, patient despite my fluctuating moods. “Of course. Let me find a wheelchair, then I’ll take you up to NICU.”
A splice of panic shot through my chest. “Like, now?” I hadn’t expected it so soon.
She smiled. “Soon. I’ll give you half an hour to rest, then we can have your first outing.”
And just like that, I was scared out of my mind again.