Chapter 19
White curtains danced in the late morning breeze and sunlight streamed through the glass wall at the end of the room. On the opposite end of the room was a door that was slightly ajar and the sound of footsteps was the noise that slipped through.
On the west end of the room, hung a huge flatscreen TV, and opposite this TV, lay Mariah covered in thick blankets on a bed. Her red hair was braided and her skin was clammy with sweat. According to the doctor, it was a good sign.
If James was being honest, this was the third time he was seeing Anastasia in a hospital bed and the anxiety it brought wasn’t getting any less. It was getting worse. He sat on a padded hospital chair, pressing his elbows onto his thighs, and held his head in his hands.
Each breath he took brought memories of how she fainted at his house. Her glossy lips had been poised to protest, her bright eyes shone with shock through her glasses and her fingers grasped the photograph tightly seconds before it fluttered to the floor as she fell.
She could have hit her head on the ground but he had managed to grab her upper arm while she was falling. Although her knees had hit the floor on her way down, he had grabbed her arm in time to save her head from the same fate.
The period between trying to rouse her—failing at it—and the ambulance getting to his house had been like torture. James had prayed he never got to experience it again.
All through the night, he had pondered on only one thought, Am I going to lose Anastasia again? now that I just got her back.
His heart soared when Dr. Vishram told him she was going to be okay.
What had happened to her was a memory overload and her brain couldn’t take it. She had been triggering too many suppressed memories. The doctor told James that though she would be fine now, she might end up getting her mind seriously injured if she continued this way.
He had told James that if he held any sway over Mariah, he should tell her to give her mind a break from remembering so much.
James had listened to Dr. Vishram intently while a voice in his head told him everything that had happened to Anastasia was his fault. She wouldn’t have gotten lost in the woods if he hadn’t told her to run that day.
She wouldn’t be having memory overload if he wasn’t in the picture, making her remember and showing her things that triggered her memory. Somehow everything was all his fault and he was drowning in the guilt.
James let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. He was still dressed in the tan khakis and black dress shirt from the previous night. His hair had lost its sheen and there were bags under his eyes, but he had resolved to stay until Anastasia woke up and until he was sure she would recover.
Anastasia let out a groan and he raised his head to look at her. No longer was she lying still. Her head moved from side to side and her face scrunched up in pain as she roused.
Dr. Vishram had come by earlier that morning with a medical team and had checked up on her. He had assured James that she would wake up soon. His predictions were right.
James rose from his chair and rushed to her side, sitting on the bed, he took hold of her hand and whispered, “Hey… it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here.”
Anastasia groaned and struggled like she was having a bad dream and he cooed. “It’s okay, Stacey. I’m here.” She quieted down at the sound of his voice and took a deep breath, then her eyes fluttered open.
James let out a breath of relief, bending to wrap her in a hug. “You’re okay. Thank God, you’re okay,” he held her gingerly in his arms until she squirmed a bit and he released her.
Taking hold of her hand again, he said, “You feel okay, right? I could call Dr. Vishram—I should call him,” James rose to his feet and dashed to the door. He called for a nurse to get the doctor and returned to her side.
He returned to her side. This time he didn’t hold her hand. Instead, he watched her closely. Her bright brown eyes were fixed on her hands, her brows were furrowed in thought, and her lips were parted, like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.
“Are you okay?” he asked her again and her eyes lifted to him but she didn’t say a word.
Wanting to engage her, he told her what Dr. Vishram said about her condition, the precautions, and advice, and apologized for triggering her memories so much. When he was done talking, he asked her if she understood what he had said.
“I do,” she said with a solemn voice. “My doctor back then had told me this could happen.”
James smiled, happy she was talking. Her voice was low and hoarse, and she cleared her throat to say words he didn’t think she would. “And I am not Anastasia. I never was.”
James was a little surprised even though he had known that accepting this would be a lot for anyone. He had no experience with this type of conversation and did not know what to say.
“Mariah… I—” he tried to say, but she raised a hand to let him know to stop talking.
“No,” she muttered. “I did feel sad about your story about your friend, but I don’t want to get roped up into your games.”
“I wouldn’t dare play games with you,” he said, hoping she would hear the earnestness in his voice.
“I’m Mariah Sanchez, the architect who designed your orphanage,” she said with a sad smile.
“I know,” James groaned in frustration. He knew convincing her would be hard, and then the actual process of making her believe would be extremely difficult.
Fishing the picture out of his pocket, he held it to her face, “You look just like Anastasia’s mom. How is this an illusion?” He shook his head and sighed. “I didn’t make it up, Mariah and this is too dear to my heart to make into a game. You are the little girl in the photo and you know it.”
“I don’t know anything,” Mariah cried. Her face scrunched up. “That’s not me. You think it is, but it’s not. It could be an edited picture but that’s not me,” her voice broke and he heard her sob. “I’m an orphan. I don’t have such a family. Even if I did. They are dead. Dead!” her wails filled the room.
Then, it clicked in James’s head that the thought of being Anastasia wasn’t appealing to Mariah. Maybe to her, it was better to hope that one day you would find your family than to realize she had no family as they were likely dead or at least missing.
Tucking the photo back into his pocket, he sighed, “I know how you feel—”
“Really?!” Mariah raised her head so quickly she could have snapped her neck.
She said, “You have no idea how I feel! You have no idea what it means to grow up an orphan. What it’s like in an orphanage. You have no idea what it means to fight for anything you want in life and you certainly have no idea how my head spins and my heart races anytime you are in the room. You don’t know how hard I tried to suppress my feelings for you. So, no, you don’t know how I feel. You have no idea how I feel!”
James stared at her with wide eyes, unable to speak. He blinked with each statement she made. He didn’t know she felt so strongly in his presence. He had felt the same way for a long time, and it had been before he knew she was Anastasia.
Whenever she was around, he couldn’t focus on anything apart from her. He couldn’t think about anything else apart from what she was telling him and he certainly didn’t want to be anywhere else than wherever she was, but he never told her that.
He hadn’t told anyone. Greg was the only one who had guessed it. Now, he knew she felt the same way about him. He couldn’t help but break into a smile.
Then Mariah continued, “And I’m tired of all these feelings. I’m tired of reaching for things I could never have.”
“Mariah, that’s not the point,” he managed to say. “You can have all you ever wanted. A history, a name, a family… even me.”
She looked at him, tears no longer falling, but her eyes were red and puffy. “I should grasp… at an illusion? No… no! I’m lonely, but not desperate. I’m done, with this, with remembering and with your drawings. I’ll send them to your office on Monday.” She said and looked away from him. “You should find another architect to improve it or interpret it because I quit.”
It was like a truck slammed into James’s chest as she said those words. His breath was knocked out of his chest and his heart was squeezed so tight he couldn’t talk.
In that same instance, Dr. Vishram and his team returned, making the room rowdy and noisy. They started to hurry James away, but he gripped Mariah’s hands, “You can’t quit.”
“I can,” she deadpanned. “And I just did. Goodbye, Mr. Sorenson.”
“No,” James found steel in his voice. “You can’t tell me goodbye—”
“Leave!” she cried, fresh tears rushing down her face again. She became so emotional that she began trembling and Dr. Vishram pleaded with James to leave her for a while, but James refused.
He was practically dragged out of the room, and locked outside the door so they could examine her. Leaning by the wall outside the door, he listened for conversation inside. “Is he gone?” Mariah’s voice came soft and teary.
“Yes, he’s gone,” Dr. Vishram”s strong voice replied. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you for a while.”
“Thank you,” Mariah said.
James scoffed and pushed himself off the wall. Truly, he had made the biggest mistake he could ever make by telling Mariah she was Anastasia. Even without her knowing who she truly was, he had already fallen for Mariah Sanchez, the architect. He would have been able to build a life with her, but now this was not possible.
He walked down to the elevator at the end of the hallway with his head down, paying little mind to the people walking down the hall. He took the elevator down to the ground floor and emerged into a busy reception.
It was a bright room made with glass walls. So, it could pass for the brightest room in the hospital, giving him a view of the outside décor and landscaping. The effect merged the inside and outside making you think you were free as a lark.
He walked over to the east glass wall, where a line of comfortable purple and pink couches were arranged. Some faced the wall, others faced the reception and little white tables sat between two couches. He sat on one facing the glass, wanting to avoid the gaze of anyone who could have recognized him. He rested his head in his hands.
After he had returned from being stranded at the Sorenson manor upstate, he had told his parents that Mariah was Anastasia. His father had asked him for more proof, aside from birthmarks and a physical resemblance.
His stepmother had shaken her head in frustration asking him to let Anastasia go. She said that it had been years, and even if Mariah was Anastasia, she might have moved on from him and the whole situation. She wouldn’t want to remember him, or what had happened.
James had told her that he was confident Mariah was Anastasia and that they would believe it when they saw her. Then he had proceeded to invite Mariah for dinner.
If he went home now, his parents would demand to know how she was and if she accepted her identity. It would have been a beautiful thing if she had accepted it, but she hadn’t. She had thrown the truth in his face and now he had to go back home with bad news.
He heard someone call his name and lifted his head. He cast a look backward and saw Veronica standing behind him.
“I thought that was you,” she said with a small smile and walked closer to him.
She was dressed in a pastel pink body con dress that ended at her knees. Over it, she had an olive blazer, paired with olive stilettos. In her hands were a bouquet of white lilies and jasmine, and a small basket of something that smelled divine.
Without invitation, she took the seat next to him, facing the reception, and placed the bouquet and basket on the table between them.
“So glad to see you,” she beamed. “It’s like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
James gave her a cynical smile in response and returned his gaze to the glass. “Here to see Mariah, I’m sure?”
“Of course,” Veronica said. “You’ve seen her?”
He scoffed and licked his lips with his tongue, “I brought her here.”
“What?” Veronica’s tone changed and she sat up straighter. “What happened James? When the hospital called, I was so scared. I was in New York with Mom and Dad. You know these days she’s been having trouble with her health and I was so worried I took the jet this morning to get here. Mom and Dad will wrap up the business meeting and return today.”
“Hmm,” James hummed, his thoughts still stuck on Veronica’s question. “Well, she was at my house… for dinner,” he watched Veronica’s face as he talked. She still looked confused. “Knowing her health condition, I shouldn’t have pushed her, but I did and told her what her real identity was.”
“You… found her real family?” Veronica’s mouth fell open and widened in a weak smile. “That’s amazing. I didn’t know you cared about her that much.”
“Yeah,” James nodded. “Mariah Sanchez is Anastasia Chandler—”
“Your long-lost childhood crush?”
“Best friend,” James corrected.
“Same thing,” Veronica pursed her glossy pink lips and shook her head. “For a moment there I thought you actually went out of your way to find her family, but no, you just went and projected your sick fantasies on an innocent woman.”
She scoffed and reached for her bouquet. “You’re delusional, James Sorenson. Everything must go the way you think it should in your head. I love you, I do, that’s why I’m telling you to stop your obsessed thoughts about Anastasia. I get that you want to build an orphanage in her name, but using someone as fragile as my godsister in your games… that’s just wrong and you know it.”
James rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. He tucked his hands in his pocket and turned to look at Veronica still seated on the pink couch. There were many things he wanted to say to her, many things he had wanted to say to her for a while now.
Perhaps he had the right to say them now after her accusations, but he wondered what that would do to their cordial relationship and to the partnership that their companies had.
“There are two things I’d like to tell you, Vee,” he called her by the pet name her family had for her, hoping it would soften his next words. “First one is, whether Mariah is Anastasia or not, don’t you dare scare her off. Don’t you dare tell her terrible things about me—because you know I’m actually a pretty decent guy else you wouldn’t be pinning over me since high school.”
Veronica’s mouth was in a surprised smile and she shook her head in shock at his words. He didn’t care though, he just kept on talking as she had done only seconds ago.
“Secondly, I have been thinking about it for a while now, but now, with Mariah in my life, I think it’s time I say this. I’ve always seen you as a little sister. I can’t date you and I most certainly, can’t marry you. I only hope you would understand.”
He said this without blinking an eye and left his place by the couch, leaving Veronica by the glass alone. “I also hope that you can forgive me for the future—because I’m going to pursue Anastasia with all I have. Now, if you’d excuse me.”
James turned and gave Veronica a small genuine smile, and waved her goodbye, walking into the crowd of people in the reception.