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I made a noise and started to get up again, the weight of the cast making my leg quiver and shake as I tried once more to lift it out of the sling.
“What is going on in here?” asked a man in a white coat and carrying a tablet as the door closed behind him.
“Doctor—” The nurse started, totally about to tattle on me.
So I bulldozed over her words with my own. “I’m getting up,” I told him, the sling jingling as I fought to get my foot out of it. Why is this thing so heavy? My temples started to throb as if I suddenly had more than one heartbeat.
“Miss Park, you just woke from surgery. You need to lie still,” the doctor chided.
“That’s what I told her, Doctor.” The nurse was plaintive like this was all my fault. When in fact, she was the one who had kicked him out of my room in the first place.
“How am I supposed to do that when I just asked my fiancé who he is?” I said, falling back onto my elbows. A cold sweat had broken out on my forehead, and it made me shiver.
The doctor came closer to the bed. “You’re experiencing memory loss?”
“I want to see him.” I pushed up again, the movement creating a draft. Looking down, I gasped. My legs were practically spread because of the way my broken ankle was elevated, and I’d thrown the blankets off in my attempt to get out of bed.
“Where are my clothes?” I asked, quickly crossing my uninjured leg over the busted one while tugging down the hideous, flimsy gown I was wearing.
“We removed them when you were brought in last night,” the doctor replied, calm. “I really need to examine you.”
“I want Ben,” I said, suddenly exhausted. “You can do all the tests you want. Just please get him.” I gasped. “I remembered his name!” I looked at the nurse. “Is that his name?”
Did it even count if I wasn’t sure? How could I trust myself?
“I’ll get your fiancé if you allow my nurse to record your vitals while I do,” the doctor offered.
Relieved, I sagged into the pillows. “Yes, thank you.”
The doctor excused himself, and the nurse got to work. I let her do her thing, too weak to even argue. My little burst of rebellion had cost me. The pain I opened my eyes to was worse than before, and it was making me nauseous. And on top of the discomfort was the anxiety. FYI: anxiety did not belong on top of anything. It was so not whipped cream. But here it was. So much of it. Not knowing what I should know was making it impossible to focus on anything else.
All I really knew for sure was that I wanted Ben. I wasn’t even sure why or who exactly Ben even was. But the want was strong enough to overrule rational thought.
I just hoped Ben and my fiancé were the same person because if they weren’t…. things were about to get incredibly awkward.
9
Kruger
I’d rather tap dance in a minefield wearing clown shoes than sit in this waiting room.
Just call me Bozo because here I was, stepping into what I could now consider my least favorite place on Earth.
Elite was already here, filling a corner of the room of doom, and I was momentarily surprised when I saw who was sitting beside Landry. “Coach?”
He pushed out of the chair. “Kruger. You missed practice.”
“I’ll probably miss more.”
I expected some insults followed by a lecture. Instead, he just pursed his lips and nodded. “How is she?”
All the bravado I’d been projecting in front of her seemed to drain away without any warning. “She didn’t remember me.”
Coach grunted. “I wish I could forget you too.”
Behind us, Landry gasped. “Dad!”
“I’m kidding,” he said, more over his shoulder than to me. But when he turned back, he laid his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I might think you’re a pain in the ass, but I see the way that girl looks at you. She bumped her head. Give her a minute to sort it all out. She’ll remember you, son. My lifeguards are made of tough stuff.”
