Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Tatiana
I wake up groggy and thirsty. “So thirsty.”
The skin on my knees and palms burn, and my temple throbs.
Dante appears in my vision, holding a cup with a straw to my lips. “Here you go, darling.”
He helps me to sit up. I’m in the same big bed as earlier, but now I have a drip in my arm connected to a transparent bag of fluid hanging from an IV pole that stands next to the bed. The curtains are open, letting the golden light of the afternoon sun filter into the spacious room.
I look down at myself. I’m wearing a nightdress I don’t remember.
“I washed and dressed you,” Dante says as if reading my mind. “Here.” He brings the straw to my lips again. “You need to keep hydrated.”
Sipping a few small mouthfuls of the cold water, which is just about the best thing I’ve ever tasted, I take him in.
The new ink on his hands is alluring but also unsettling because I don’t remember those tattoos.
His hair is tousled, and a couple of days’ worth of stubble darkens his jaw.
His handsome face is familiar but older.
Laugh lines crease the outside corners of his eyes.
Or maybe they’re from frowning. He’s always been a charmer on the surface but way too serious for his own good.
I glance around me. The room is still strange. Something about being here frightens me. It feels… wrong.
My question is tremulous. “Where am I?”
Brushing back my hair in a tender gesture, he offers me a patient smile. “At our home.”
“Our home?” I look at my left hand where the diamond twinkles on my ring finger. A wedding band fits against the engagement ring, spelling out the answer. “We…” I continue uncertainly. “We got married?”
Even though his smile doesn’t falter, his tone is strained. “You don’t remember?”
Panic rises inside me again. “N-no. What happened to me? Why don’t I remember?”
“Shh.” He strokes my hair. “That’s all right. Tell me what you do remember.”
My brain feels fuzzy. I try to think. “The night we planned. My father was going to a party. You were going to come back when Mom was asleep and sneak me out so we could spend the night together.”
He tries hard not to show his feelings, but he can’t hide the shock and concern that flash through his amber eyes. “What about the accident?” He puts the cup on the nightstand and gently traces the plaster stuck above my temple. “Do you remember anything about the event that gave you this wound?”
I do my best to recall what happened to me only to pull a blank. “I just remember running into that store and asking the sales lady for a phone.”
“And you don’t remember anything between that and the night I was going to smuggle you from the condo?”
I shake my head, spiraling down a black, bottomless pit as my anxiety escalates.
Needing to hold on to something, I grip his hand. “What’s happening to me, Dante?”
“Hey.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back. “It’s nothing to stress about. You hit your head and suffered a shock.”
I can hear the lie in his words. That’s not what he believes. I know him too well.
Rubbing his finger just below the broken skin of my knuckles, he says, “We’ll figure it out.”
At that, I relax a little. As long as Dante is with me, I’m safe. But then I tense again. “Noah?”
“You remember him?” he asks with a mixture of hope and surprise.
“Yes.” Tears spring into my eyes. “How can I not?”
And then everything inside me falls apart… because Noah is four years old.
“No.” I gasp, clinging to Dante as the truth cuts through me like a blunt knife. I lost a chunk of my life. “Four years.”
What the hell happened to me? Why can’t I remember anything between that night and now? I don’t remember being pregnant. I remember Noah, Dante, and my family and friends but nothing about our wedding or Noah’s birth.
“Hush, darling.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and kisses me on the lips. “I’ll get you the best doctors. We’ll fix this.”
On the verge of hysteria, I ask, “What if we can’t?”
His smile stretches, exposing his dimple. “Then fuck it. We’ll live with it. You’ll get to know me all over again.”
Some of my anguish subsides. Not making a big deal out of what’s wrong with me helps. It gives me hope that he’ll stay with me, no matter what. Even if we can’t fix this, he won’t abandon me.
A tear slips free and rolls over my cheek. “I didn’t forget you.” If there’s one truth I know, it’s this. “I love you too much.”
Instead of seeming happy about that, he appears as if I’ve driven a stake through his heart.
He cups my face in an oddly regretful manner. “I know.”
A need to reassure him makes me say, “I don’t need to get to know you. I know who you are.”
He stiffens. The gesture is slight, but I notice it. Despite his vow to support me, he’s not pleased with the situation or my condition.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not sure what I’m apologizing for.
The lines of his handsome face harden. “Don’t you dare apologize for something that’s not your fault.”
“Are you angry?”
He stands up too quickly, almost as if he needs to put distance between us, letting go of my hand in the process. “How can you even ask me that?”
“I feel…” I bite my lip. “Lost.” Staring up at him, I admit, “Scared.”
“You have nothing to fear as long as you have me. You’ll get through this.” His jaw sets with determination. “I’ll see to that.”
I let the certainty in his voice soothe me, fighting hard not to have another panic attack like earlier.
Not remembering is terrifying. If I let it, the anguish will crush me, so I try to focus only on Noah for now.
I have to take things one step at a time until I can figure this out.
Holding on to that thought, I take a few deep breaths.
It works. I manage to calm myself even though that’s only because I’m not thinking about the magnitude of the reality. I only think about Noah.
“Where is he?” I wrap my fingers around Dante’s hand where it’s clenched at his side. “I want to see Noah.”
His expression softens. “He hasn’t stopped asking for you.” He studies me as he says, “Jasper and Emily are here too.”
“How kind of them to have come.”
He almost sounds incredulous. “You don’t mind?”
“Of course not.” Letting him go, I resist an urge to wring my hands together. “Why would I mind? Did something happen?”
“A lot.” His laugh is soft. “We have much to talk about, but we don’t have to rush things. Noah first.”
When he leaves me with a kiss on my forehead, I sink back against the pillows, studying the surroundings.
Unease spreads through me. I can’t shake off the feeling that I’m unwelcome here. The environment almost seems hostile. I can’t explain the sensation. It’s as if something I buried deep inside me is trying to claw its way back into my consciousness.
Or maybe it’s just paranoia. Maybe it’s tension due to the unsettling knowledge that I lost a part of my memory and I don’t know why. The fact that Dante doesn’t know how I sustained my injury either only makes me stress more.
My skin prickles at the notion that I don’t belong here, but before I can worry myself more about that, Dante returns with Noah.
I nearly cry with happiness and relief when Dante lifts my sweet little boy onto the bed.
“Mommy!” Noah goes onto his knees and throws his arms around me, hugging me with all his might. “Please don’t go back to sleep.”
“Careful.” Dante catches him around the waist. “Don’t pull out the drip.”
“It’s all right,” I say through my happy tears, rocking Noah as I hug him back. “I missed you, sweetheart.”
He pulls away with a pout. “I missed you too. Where did you go?”
Rattled, I look at Dante because I don’t have an answer for that question.
“Your mom was in an accident. She can’t remember how it happened, but the important thing is that she’s back.”
Dante’s honesty surprises me, but I appreciate it. I don’t want to confuse Noah with lies.
“You found her.” Noah regards Dante with awe. “Just like you promised.”
Dante smiles. “I told you I would.”
Holding Dante’s gaze, I mouth, “Thank you.” Not only for his honesty but also for effortlessly navigating this difficult conversation with Noah and making my confusion less frightening.
That strained look comes over his features again. There’s something he’s not telling me. My stomach contracts with nerves as the odd feeling that I don’t belong here grows stronger.
“Are you hungry?” Dante places a hand on my knee, cupping it through the comforter. “Can I get you anything?”
“Later.” I am hungry—starving actually—but I want to spend time with Noah first. “But thanks.”
Noah babbles non-stop, hardly pausing to breathe as he tells me about going to the park and painting with Jazz.
My heart melts when he tells me he drew me pictures to make me feel better.
I cherish every second, drinking in his sweet face and the smell of his toddler shampoo, which is familiar, as he chats like a runaway train.
“…and then Jazz tried to fold a paper boat but she couldn’t do it like you so Reino wanted to show her and she got upset because he took the paper out of her hands but I said she mustn’t be angry because you’ll show her.”
At the end of that long discourse, he drags in a loud breath.
Despite the concern and anxiety gnawing at my insides, I laugh. “I’ll show her tonight.”
“Your mom has to see the doctor first.”
Dante locks his hands around Noah’s middle and hoists him playfully into the air before putting him on his feet. “Isn’t it time for your snack?”
Noah squeals in delight at having been lifted so high.
“Go ask Emily to cut you an apple,” Dante says. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Noah obeys without arguing. He loves apples—at least I remember that—but I think his compliance has more to do with wanting to please his father. They seem close, and the idea is painfully sweet.
When we’re alone, I ask the question at the forefront of my mind. “Why don’t you know what happened to me?”
Dante wraps his fingers around my nape, brushing his thumb over the side of my neck. “Our convoy was attacked.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “You disappeared during the gunfight.”
My mouth goes dry. “How long was I missing?”
His nostrils flare. “Five days.”
Five days?
Blood gushes in my ears as I digest the fact. “Do you think someone took me?”
“I don’t have answers yet, but I’ll find them. What matters is that you’re here now.”
“Can I have my phone?” Something else is worrying me. “I have to speak to my mom. She must be worried sick.”
He drops his hand from my neck and stares at me for a long moment.
“Dante?”
“Your parents died four years ago.” Emotions darken his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Shock slams into me, and then grief. “What?” My breath catches. “How?”
“Car accident.” His jaw hardens. “I’m sorry you have to go through that all over again.”
Too upset to form a coherent sentence in my mind, I can only stare at him.
Dante’s words are gentle. “Let’s deal with your health first. The doctor wants to check on you again.” Caution slips into his tone. “He wants to examine you more properly now that you’re awake.”
Numbness creeps over me, mercifully dulling the pain in my heart even though I know instinctively that pain has long since been a part of me. I recognize it as a person would recognize a familiar face. Like a permanent resident, it’s moved in to stay.
Dante continues with an unmistakable graveness that underlies his statement, his words hesitant yet strong. “We have to make sure of the extent of your injuries to determine if you’ve been assaulted.”
His meaning hits me between the eyes. If I’ve been violated, he means.
I swallow at that, my stomach churning.
“I’m here for you.” He locks his fingers around my wrist, caressing the tender spot on the underside with his thumb. “No matter what.”
The contact is soothing, his touch calming me.
Summoning my courage, I lift my chin. “Let’s get it over with.”
He lifts my wrist to his mouth and presses his lips on my pulse. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.” He delivers the vow with brutal intensity. “I promise you that on my life.”