Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Leon
“Right, I’m leaving for work,” Erika announces, dashing down the stairs in her scrubs, with her long hair piled on top of her head, wearing a pair of white Crocs, and holding her stethoscope in her fist.
I married a doctor.
I, a knucklehead hockey player, married a stupidly switched-on bright spark, and she loves me. I still find that hard to accept.
Erika hasn’t moved in with me; instead, she’s been toing and froing between my place, hers, and the hospital.
The last thing I want to do is push her to move in with me, and I am waiting for her to suggest it from fear of sounding needy, but I want nothing more than for her to be here with me full-time.
There’s a pull to her I can’t explain, but the more time I spend with her, the more I know that I want all her mornings and evenings, and everything in between.
And that, to me, feels a lot like falling for her.
I think I am. That might already be starting to happen.
But I don’t know how to feel anymore. Everything seems so confusing.
Our situation must be more painful for Erika than it is for me because I’m not the one who remembers what we had, or how special it was, and no matter how many times she tells me how real and true our love was, I can’t feel it, or see it, or imagine it.
That’s the biggest tragedy of all because she deserves to be cherished and to be loved. She’s so fucking special.
“Do you really have to go?” I ask, not wanting her to leave.
“I do. I’ve had so much time off recently, and they’re short-staffed. It’s shit, I know. I’m sorry.”
I shove my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants, feeling a little lost in my own home. I recognize everything; the only thing I don’t is Erika.
“Your dinner is in the oven. All you have to do is take it out when the timer goes off. Stash is outside, but he’s there if you feel unsafe at any point.”
Someone, hell knows who, caught wind of my accident, and since then, I’ve been hounded by reporters who have taken up residency outside my house.
“Your mom and dad are on their way over and will be staying for the night, and as soon as I am finished work, I’ll come straight to check on you. Now, where did I put my stethoscope?” She feels around her neck.
“It’s in your hand.” I point to her other hand that’s clenched around it and laugh at her busy brain.
“Ah.” She loops it around her neck.
“That looks fancy.” It’s purple, and the metal pieces look iridescent.
“It was a gift from someone,” she says, sounding coy, examining the chest piece.
“Did I buy it for you?” I seem to have bought her lots of things. From books to dresses. It’s possible I did.
She flinches, like this is another one of my questions that hurt her. Every little thing I forget seems to sting her like tiny paper cuts, causing her pain over and over.
“You did,” she says, her smile fading before she paints on a fake one. Holding up the chest piece, she turns it around and says, “It tells me to listen to my heart.”
When it comes to her, I appear to be a sentimental fool. “And what is your heart telling you?”
“To fight for you. To move in with you. To be here for you. Always.”
Well, I wasn’t expecting her to say that.
“And what does your mind say?” I ask, not really wanting to know the answer because I can see how torn she is.
Erika exhales, her shoulders dropping. “My mind tells me to forget you because you’ve forgotten me, and it tells me to stop trying, when all my heart wants to do is fight harder to help you unlock the door I’m stuck behind.
For weeks, I watched your lifeless body, not knowing what was going to happen when you woke up, or if you’d wake up.
I prayed to all the gods above to bring you back to me, and when they did, they delivered me someone who has no recollection of who I am, like I’ve been removed from your history.
” She shakes her head. “This is not what I wanted for us, or you. It’s not what I asked for, and this is not how I wanted our married life to begin.
When we got married, shotgun or not, I was so happy.
Because I finally had you when that’s all I’ve wanted for years, then you slipped out of my reach just as quickly, and I will never forgive myself for booking that vacation. It’s all my fault.”
A surge of excruciating pain shoots through my heart, and the guilt feels almost unbearable. “It’s not your fault.” How could she think that?
“Yes, it is, Leon. This is my punishment for wishing for things that were too good to be true. Happiness isn’t meant for me.
You…” she points at me, “were clearly never meant to be mine. Not fully, not forever, but when I did have you, they were the best days of my life.” Her voice cracks, her eyes lined with unshed tears.
“And now?” Please don’t say it, please don’t say it.
Her eyes flick to the floor, a tear dropping, splashing against the marble.
“Now, I don’t know if this will ever work, and what if you never get your memory back?
What then? I don’t think things will ever be the same.
They’ll be different, and I’ll have all these memories of you that you won’t have of me.
” She stifles a sob, brushing away her tears as if not wanting me to see her distress.
“We’ll make new memories. Together again.
” My voice is strained as I beg for that to happen, because I might not know her in my mind, yet the connection I feel is as if there is an invisible thread sewing our hearts together, tethering us.
While my memories might not be there, with overriding certainty, my soul knows her: my twin flame.
I feel the pain she feels. When she enters a room, I feel her energy. In the short time I’ve known her, I know what each of her smiles means and every intricate nuance in her voice.
She lifts her head and swipes her finger along her lash line, pretending it’s not a tear when I know it is.
“I know, and I want to make this work; I do. And I’m trying, Leon.
I really am trying.” Her words sound desperate, tormented, quickly choking over each syllable, and doing everything she can to hold it together.
“I’m trying to be patient, and put my doctor’s hat on so I can be here for you and give you the support you need, but my heart is involved and I have all of these feelings I don’t know what to do with and all I want to do is run into your arms and tell you how much I love you and how much I want the old Leon back.
” She punches her hand to her chest. “My Leon. I want him back, and I want you to remember, and that sounds so selfish.” Her voice cracks, her emotions take over, and she breaks down.
I rush to her and fling myself around her shaking frame. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault.” Not usually one for crying, my throat thickens as emotion makes me feel like there is a cannonball stuck in my esophagus.
“So then why does it feel like that, Leon?” she stutters, holding on to me like I’m her life buoy.
“Because you’re trying to find someone to blame.” I hold her close, letting her cry, soaking the fabric of my T-shirt. “It was an accident, nothing more. People have accidents every day. Even you know that as an ER doctor.”
Her tears subsided, and only then do I lean out of our embrace, the sight of her red-rimmed eyes gutting me to my core.
“You’re overthinking,” I tell her.
“And you’re not thinking at all.” She makes a joke about my lack of memory, smirking sheepishly.
I laugh. For the first time since I woke up in that hospital bed, I’m really laughing because, what the fuck did I do to deserve losing memories of what I’ve been told is the best thing that has ever happened to me?
Her shoulders shake from laughter too, and it feels good to find light in the dark, even if it’s only fleetingly.
“We need time, Erika. That’s all I’m asking for. Time.”
“And patience. I need to learn to be more patient.”
“How long did you say we waited to admit how we felt about each other finally?”
“Over twenty years,” she confirms.
“Then I think we are two of the most patient people I know. And I’d wait a lifetime for you, baby.”
There’s a moment of silence, then she finally says the words that make me so damn happy. “I want to move in, Leon. I think I should be here with you, living under the same roof as a couple, as husband and wife. It wouldn’t feel right not being here with you.”
I’m going to remember her even if it’s the last thing I do. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, baby.”
“We’re in this together.”
Together.