Forgetting You - L.A. Casey Page 0,46

motor skills seem to be normal, and she’s engaging in conversation to try to jog her memory. The only obvious brain damage that they can see is the severity of her amnesia.”

I digested this as I shifted from foot to foot.

“What if she wakes up and forgets everything again?” I asked nervously. “I’ve read stories where a person will wake up every day and remember nothing from the day before. Someone like Noah, who hurt their head in an accident.”

It scared the life out of me to think something like that could happen to Noah on a daily basis.

“Son, you can’t go and worry about every little thing that might go wrong. The list would be never-ending otherwise.”

“You’re right.” I nodded as I scratched my chin. “Of course you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just scared shitless, but I can’t show it in front of her. She looks at me like I can make everythin’ better and I don’t think I can. I’m not the man she thinks I am, sir.”

To Noah, I was the man she knew when we were twenty-four, but that man no longer existed. I could see it in her eyes when I looked at her . . . she was in love with me, but not the man I was today; she loved the man she once knew. I couldn’t begin to think what I would do if she got her memories back and that love in her eyes faded to nothingness. It was a possibility I had to try to prepare for . . . She’d picked Anderson over me once before, so who was to say that she wouldn’t pick him again once she knew everything?

“You’re every bit the man she thinks you are and you’re more. You’re the man my child will end up with, I know it in my heart. I call you ‘son’ for a reason, Elliot.” Mr Ainsley embraced me before I could say a word. “Day by day, remember? We’ll see our girl back on her feet, just you wait and see.”

We separated and I straightened my spine.

“I’ve one other thing we need to talk about,” he continued.

Dread washed over me.

“What is it?”

“It’s Anderson. He showed up here in the middle of the night, and when the security guard wouldn’t let him in to see Noah, he threatened to file a police report.”

“He what?” I blinked in disbelief. “A report? On what fuckin’ grounds?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Mr Ainsley pinched the bridge of his nose. “Doctor Abara, he’s the lead doctor who looks after Noah, he observed the night she awoke in Anderson’s presence and he doesn’t want him around her right now because of how she reacted to him. Her mental health, and her health overall, is what’s important. Anderson seems to believe we’re keeping him away from her without her consent.”

I clenched my hands into fists.

“He’s not thinking of her, only him-fuckin’-self!”

“Try to think of it from his perspective, Eli,” Mr Ainsley softly chided. “His wife almost dies in a car accident then is in a fifteen-day coma, and when she wakes up, she has no memory of him, or their marriage, and she still believes she’s dating her ex-boyfriend, who he dislikes.”

When it was put like that, my anger for Anderson seemed harsh in the situation, but I found it hard to care for his feelings.

“What should we do? We have to let him know that it’s not us keepin’ him away, it’s the doctor. He might react differently. If he thinks it’s me callin’ the shots, he’ll blow a fuckin’ fuse. He hates me ’cause I’m the big bad ex-boyfriend.”

“I don’t think he cares who is keeping him away, just the fact that he’s being kept away.” Mr Ainsley sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not siding with him. I’m nicer than you are to him because he’s my son-in-law, but I don’t care for him either. Everything about my relationship with Noah changed once they got together.”

I was surprised to hear him say that; I’d always thought I harboured those thoughts for Anderson out of hurt and jealousy because he had Noah, but knowing her father agreed that there was something off about Anderson made me feel less crazy about the whole situation.

“What will we do if she asks about him?” I questioned. “What will I do if she asks why she’s with him and not me?”

“You’ll do the only thing you can do, son. Break it down, little by little . . .

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