Page 26 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

I glanced around the room.

Dr. Reed leaned forward slightly. “Your brain has been through a significant injury, so our priority right now is monitoring your neurological status and making sure you’re recovering safely. We’ll continue assessing your memory and cognition while you recover. As for whether those memories return, some may come back gradually, some may return in fragments, and some may remain inaccessible. There isn’t a reliable way to predict which memories will return or when.”

My thoughts were jumbling together so quickly that I couldn’t hold on to a single one. The headache behind my eyes intensified, and I blinked several times before forcing myself to focus on the man standing beside the bed.

There was something about the way he was looking at me that made my skin prickle.

“Who is this?” I asked Dr. Reed, never once looking away from the stranger.

Dr. Reed followed my gaze. “That’s Cassian Sterling. He’s been here since you were admitted.” He paused, choosing his next words with care. “He’s listed as your emergency contact…”

My brow furrowed.

“…and your husband.”

For two whole seconds, the entire world seemed to stop.

Then every tense muscle in my body relaxed at once.

A huge breath left me, carrying all the fear with it. “Oh, thank God.”

I lifted a hand to my head and rubbed gently at my temple, trying to coax the headache into submission. A nervous laugh slipped out. “For a second, I thought you actually meant all that.”

Dr. Reed’s brows drew together.

I laughed again, suddenly unable to stop. “Wow.” I looked between the two of them, trying to catch my breath. “Okay. I’ll admit it. That’s actually hilarious.”

Neither man laughed.

That only made it funnier.

“Scary,” I added, nodding seriously, “definitely terrifying. But also incredibly funny.”

The word husband echoed through my mind again.

The concept was so absurd that another laugh burst out of me. I covered my mouth, but that only made me laugh harder.

The two men froze. Exchanging a look like they weren’t sure if they should call for a nurse or sedate me.

That made me laugh even harder, until my eyes watered and my vision blurred.

“This is…” I tried to get the words out, but another burst of laughter broke through before I could finish. “I’m sorry, this is just—”

A vicious stab tore through my ribs.

The laughter vanished.

I sucked in a breath and clutched my side, my whole body recoiling from the sudden pain. My face twisted, and a strained groan slipped out as the ache radiated through my ribs and up toward my back.

“Fuck.”

The other man—the supposed husband—stepped closer, his expression darkening. “Would you stop laughing like a maniac?”

“Dr.” Reed immediately spoke up. “Easy. You have injuries, so laughing that hard is going to hurt. Try to take slow breaths and relax.”

“I was relaxing,” I protested, still fighting another laugh. “Then you told me I have a husband.” I tilted my head. “So how much did she pay you?”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”