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After he had gone and the nurse had taken my obs, I was left alone with Simon.
“What happened? Please tell me,” I begged. He hesitated, but I could see him relenting. “If you know me at all you’ll know this will be eating away at me. Relax? No way in hell,” I added. I swear I saw a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“What do you remember?” he asked me. I strained, trying to grasp at the vague memories floating around in my mind.
“Derek being killed. I don’t remember being hurt, I don’t remember much after Derek being shot. How long have I been out?”
“Em, Derek died nearly eight months ago,” Simon said quietly. “You’ve only been out just over three weeks.”
Holy shit!
If I’d only been out for three weeks, then why couldn’t I remember the six or seven months before that? I swatted away at the tears forming in my eyes, not wanting him to see that I was crying. Simon reached for my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine. I tried to concentrate on the feel of his hand in mine, the warmth of his skin against mine. I was exhausted. I’d opened my eyes less than half hour ago and I was ready to sleep for another three weeks.
“Em, rest. Please just try and relax.”
I faced away from him and closed my eyes. Maybe if I went to sleep I’d wake up and this would’ve all been some weird nightmare.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Simon
Two days since Em had woken and her memory had not improved at all. The doctors were constantly trying to reassure me it was normal for this to take some time, but honestly, there was nothing normal about this whole situation. We had a daughter, I couldn’t even introduce to my fiancé, because she had no knowledge of her. Hell, she didn’t even know we were engaged.
As I did every morning, I went straight to the nursery to see my little girl. She was nothing like the tiny thing Em had given birth to. In the four weeks since she was born she had put on weight and she was no longer reliant on machines to regulate her breathing. She looked like a normal happy newborn baby, albeit a little small.
“Morning Simon,” Nancy smiled at me. I smiled back. Nancy worked most mornings so she was used to seeing me in here before nine. Nancy was one of those people you couldn’t help but love, always ready for a chat, always smiling. Today she seemed extra excited.
“I’ve got some news for you. You can take Mirabella home tomorrow.”
What? Holy shit, I was nowhere near ready for that. All my time had been spent here with Mirabella and Em, I hadn’t even put up her nursery. My head ached as I thought of everything I needed to get.
“Hey.” Nancy placed her hand on my arm, sensing I was overwhelmed. “You’ll be fine. I’ve seen you with her.” Forcing a smile, I nodded. Sure. I’d be fine. Looking after a premature baby by myself? Piece of cake.
I walked over to Mirabella’s crib, her big eyes stared up at me. It was as if she recognized who I was and I swear I saw her smile. As I picked her up and rocked her in my arms, I began to feel something I hadn’t felt in ages. I was excited. I was looking forward to getting my daughter home, Em getting better and our lives finally getting back on track.
Apparently memory issues were common after the type of operation she’d had. It was unlikely for her memory not to return at all, but it was a possibility and something I didn’t want to think about. I so badly wanted to take Mirabella to meet her mother. I was sure when Em saw our little girl, she’d fall in love just as I had, but the doctors had insisted we not rush it and the last thing I wanted to do was prolong her recovery.
Staying with Mirabella for another hour, I left to see Em. I needed to call in a huge favor and Claire was the only one who could help me on this. I headed to the cafeteria, where the staff now knew me by name.
“Hi Simon,” Ellie smiled at me as I approached the counter. “Coffee and muffin?” she asked. I nodded, grinning. Yes, I was that transparent. Every day for the last three weeks I’d ordered a coffee and a muffin for morning tea, followed by a sandwich for lunch.
“How’s Emma?” Ellie, just like the rest of the staff had become heavily invested in Emma’s recovery.
“She’s getting there,” I smiled, reaching for my coffee. Handing her the $5 in my hand, I grabbed the muffin and headed for my usual table in the corner. It was the quietest spot and the best for making phone calls.
“Claire,” I began, “I need a favor.”
“Okay,” Claire laughed, “do I get to know what it is before I say yes?”
“Mirabella is coming home tomorrow,” I chuckled, “and I’m about as underprepared as I could be.”
“And you want me to…”
“Maybe go shopping for me? Just the necessities. We have a crib, a change table and that’s about it,” I said hopefully, knowing Claire would say yes. She laughed.
“Of course I will. I told you anything you need just to let me know. Are you excited? To bring her home?” she asked.
“The more appropriate phrasing would be I am shitting myself,” I chuckled.
