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“I—”
Before I can explain I own the motel he’s staying at the nurse moves in, putting her hand at my lower back, bringing me closer to Aden’s bed.
“This is your wife, Aden. Do you recognize her at all?
“My wife?” he asks, as the scream of denial is frozen on my lips and stifled by shock. “I’m married?” he asks and he’s not irate. In this moment he looks completely lost.
It’s for different reasons, but right now I completely understand how Aden is feeling.
twenty
hope
“Ma’am, I know this is a hard time for you and your husband right now, but could I ask you to come out to the registration office and fill out the papers for your husband? When he came in all the paramedic could tell us was that his name was Aden, his condition and that his wife would be following shortly.”
“I… of course, but—” I whisper, still lost in my own thoughts. I need to come clean, right now is the moment to do that. But Aden chooses that moment where his whole demeanor changes—or maybe it’s just the real Aden trying to push through. Whatever it is, it stills the confession on my lips before I get the chance to utter it.
“I’m married? This makes no sense! Surely I would recognize my wife or even my own damn face!”
“I explained before, remember? How the fall did damage and we’re still evaluating—”
“I don’t give a damn what you’re evaluating. You’re telling me I’m married and I don’t feel married. I don’t even recognize my own wife! How can that be caused by a fall?” he yells and my heart beats wildly against my chest.
“I think there’s been a mistake. See, it’s funny—”
“I’m not finding anything funny at all about this!” Aden growls, “And if you’re my wife, I fail to see how you could.”
He may not know me, but that definitely sounds like the asshole Aden who has been renting out the room in my hotel.
“I didn’t mean funny ha-ha, really,” I mutter. “I meant—”
“I want this motel sued! I want the owner taken to the cleaners! I want—”
“You can’t mean that!” I literally scream—and yes, I mean scream.
“I do! Someone needs to pay for this mess. I can’t even recognize my own wife!”
“Well you can’t sue!” I growl right back at him. “You knew that railing was loose too, by the way. Everyone is so quick to sue anymore. You don’t—”
“Are you actually defending this motel owner? My own wife? Shouldn’t you be more concerned with the fact that I have no idea who you are?” he asks exasperated. “What if my memory never comes back? What if I never remember who you are? What if I never get my life back? I want these people punished for this!” he growls.
And that’s when I know. That’s when everything becomes crystal clear. That’s when I know I’m left without a choice.
“You can’t sue the motel,” I tell him, my voice firm if not a little quiet.
“Why in the hell can’t I?” he growls back at me like a grizzly bear that has his paw caught in a trap. It should scare me, but I’ve gone beyond fear at this point. No, right now there is no fear.
Right now I’m jumping out of an airplane without a parachute.
“Because we own the motel.”
“What?” he asks, his voice quieter. His face still shows a lot of confusion, but I try not to focus on that. I can’t handle the guilt right now.
“The Hard Acre Motel. It’s ours. We’re the owners and you were the one that was supposed to fix the railing and you just never did.”
The silence in the room is deafening. He stares at me like I’m some kind of monster from outer space and right now I kind of feel like one.
“Ma’am? The paperwork?” the nurse asks again, when it becomes apparent that neither of us are going to speak further—or even know what to say next.
“Oh…yeah I’ll just… I’ll just go fill those out…”
“Aden—”
“Just go,” he says, “just leave me alone,” sounding extremely tired and upset.
I definitely know that feeling right now…so I walk out, giving him what he wants.
twenty-one
aden
It’s like some fucking nightmare I can’t wake up from.
That’s all I can think. I’m in a hospital room and I have no idea who I am. Everything is new. My face, my hand, even my damn voice sounds like a stranger’s and now they introduce me to my wife.
My wife.
I don’t remember her at all. Shouldn’t I remember my own wife?
Fuck. I should remember my own face and when I looked in the mirror the nurse handed me… there was nothing there. No recognition whatsoever. The same with…
“What’s your name?” I ask the woman. She left earlier to go fill out paperwork. She came back and we’ve been sitting alone in this tiny room for probably an hour and we haven’t said one word to each other. I don’t know why she’s not talking. For myself, I can only say that this is all so fucking weird that I don’t know what to say—it’s probably the same for her.
