A touch on my wrist brought me awake with a start.
I opened my eyes, blinked a couple of times then stared up at the ceiling. It was different; there was a small vent above me that I wasn’t used to seeing. For a moment I wondered why it was different, then I remembered that I was no longer a patient in the ICU. It had been eight days since I’d awoken from my coma, and my status had been downgraded enough that I was no longer required to be in a unit that cared for the most critically ill patients.
Early that morning, I’d been transferred to a regular ward. Even though I was in another private room, I was happy to be among people that needed care but didn’t need to be under constant watch. For me and my family it was a massive step on my journey to recovery. I wasn’t better by a long shot, and I still had a handful of weeks until I could leave the hospital and live my life again, but it was a step in the right direction.
A layer of bubble wrap had been undone, so to speak.
“Noah?”
I turned my head to the side and blinked. It was night-time and the light in my room hadn’t been switched on, so I could only make out the outline of the person sitting next to me. The voice wasn’t Elliot’s, my dad’s, my mum’s or even AJ’s. My subconscious, however, told me who it was before I could even think.
“Anderson?”
The fingers on my wrist pressed lightly on my skin.
“Yeah, baby, it’s me.”
I didn’t know why, but I wasn’t surprised to see him.
“Hi,” I said as I pulled myself into an upright position. “Why are you sitting in the dark? Turn on the light.”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Okay.”
He leaned over and flipped the switch on the wall behind me, turning on my bed light. I squeezed my eyes shut against the brightness, then slowly opened them as my vision adjusted. My eyes lifted to Anderson instantly and I found myself staring at him with wide eyes. He looked completely different than when I had first met him.
“Anderson.” I scanned his face. “What happened?”
He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes had dark circles under them, his face was covered in a scruffy beard and his skin seemed sickly grey.
“I’m fine,” he answered with a smile. “I’m just . . . not coping well with you being so sick.”
His words tugged at my heart.
“I’m okay,” I told him. “I’m getting better. They moved me out of the ICU.”
“I know. Your doctor phoned me this afternoon to give me an update.”
I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I clasped my hands together as I remained sitting upright. I stared at the man who I was married to and tried to feel . . . something. But all that struck me was confusion. I truly had no memory of this man and it bothered me. I wanted to know what he was to me, how I felt about him.
“I’m sorry.”
He blinked. “What for?”
“All of this.” I shrugged. “I know I didn’t choose it, but I hate that you’re getting the short end of this stick. I’ve tried to remember you, but my mind is completely blank. The doctor says my memory could come back at any time, either whole or in fragments.”
“It also may never come back at all.”
I shifted. “Yeah, then there’s that.”
“Maybe seeing me and spending some time with me might help you.”
“Maybe.” I nodded. “I know Doctor Abara sent you home last week because of my reaction to you. I won’t lie and say this is entirely easy for me, but my head is clearer than it was. I’m curious to know you, to know what my life was like with you.”
Anderson leaned back in the chair, letting his hand fall away from my wrist. He made himself as comfortable as he could.
“I can tell you how we met, if you’d like?” Anderson offered. “That’s light enough. The doctor told me over the phone that major memory triggers were restricted right now because of your brain’s inability to process the information without hurting you.”
“Yeah,” I answered with a sigh. “I’ve got a lot of questions that can’t be answered right now, but what you suggest sounds light enough – as long as I don’t think on it too hard.”