Page 94 of One Reckless Night

“Off?” I asked.

“He’s having memory issues that don’t match up with that tumor,” he said.

“Could he have another tumor you can’t see?”

He shook his head. “He’s had several scans and there’s nothing there. The tumor is benign. It shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Did he have a head injury?”

He slurped the forkful of noodles into his mouth. “Says he didn’t. No falls. No accidents. Never played football or any other sports in school.”

I leaned forward, my fingers skimming the notes as I tried to piece together what I was missing. “So, no history of head trauma, but he’s experiencing memory loss? That’s odd. Has he had any recent illnesses? Infections?”

Jared shook his head, swallowing another bite of pasta. “No. Nothing out of the ordinary. He’s been healthy his entire life until this started.”

I frowned, my mind racing through the possibilities. “What about his medications? Any changes there?”

“He’s on blood pressure meds, but he’s been on them for years with no issues,” Jared said, setting down his fork. “No new prescriptions, no over-the-counter stuff that would explain it.”

“And his lifestyle?” I pressed. “Any big changes? Stressors? Something that could trigger psychological symptoms?”

Jared hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he thought about it. “His wife mentioned he took retirement early last year. She said he’s been more irritable since then, but she chalked it up to adjusting to being home all the time.”

“Retirement can be a huge adjustment,” I mused, tapping my finger against the file. “But memory loss like this? It’s not typical. What about his sleep patterns? Any disturbances there?”

Jared nodded slowly. “She said he’s been having trouble sleeping. Wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t fall back asleep.”

“Confusion?”

“Yes. A couple incidents, which is how his doctor found the tumor.”

I nodded, flipping through the pages. “I agree. Surgery would be unnecessary. It could cause pain and lifelong side effects, and if it’s dementia… there’s no cure for that. Not yet.”

He set his fork down and looked at me like he was proud. “That’s what I was thinking. But I needed a second opinion.”

“You did the right thing, bringing this to me. Surgery isn’t the answer here. You should refer him to colleagues who specialize in therapies that can make the rest of his life more comfortable. It only goes downhill from here.”

Jared nodded, his gaze dropping to the file. “Yeah. That’s what I’ll do.”

For a moment, it was easy to forget everything that had happened between us. We were just two doctors, working together to help a patient. It felt natural, the way we fit together in moments like this. I loved his brain. I loved his brilliance.

But it wasn’t long before the comfortable silence turned into something else entirely.

“You know, I dedicated my life to trying to find a way to save my mom. She had early onset dementia that I believe was brought on by a head injury. It’s a cruel disease.”

Jared looked up, his eyes searching mine. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry, Amelia.”

I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. It was strange to talk about her with anyone.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“My mom was in a car accident with my dad. He didn’t make it. She survived, but she had a serious TBI. She was in a coma for several weeks. I was just a baby and don’t remember any of it. My grandmother told me my mom was different. We had to live with my grandparents because my mom didn’t always remember how to take care of me. And she would be prone to angry outbursts. Sometimes she would break things because she was so angry.”

He nodded. “TBI.”

“Yes. My mom had good days and bad. But my grandparents were always there to serve as a backup when my mom was having a bad day. I got used to managing her mood swings.”