Page 120 of Owen

“The Welsh Mountains. You ejected over Snowdon. You were missing for a couple of days.”

I rub my head, frowning. “Why don’t I remember?” My head is pounding. It feels as if it’s been battered by a sledgehammer.

“They think you hit the side of your head as you ejected. Your helmet saved your life. You have a severe concussion and you’ve been in and out of consciousness. You are so lucky. You could have broken your neck or your back.”

Owen keeps filling me in on my injuries. “Your shoulders are badly bruised from the harness straps.”

“Are my collarbones okay?” That’s one of the most common ejection injuries.

“Nothing broken. You’ve had an MRI, and I read your chart.” He smiles cheekily. “The important muscles of your neck and lower thoracic spine will be tender. The doctors think you could have some damage between your spinal discs, but nothing physiotherapy won’t fix.” That’s a lot of important information I may have to ask about again as I struggle to process it.

I let the details simmer. “You said I was missing for two days?”

“Yeah.”

I feel hot and bothered by that information.

“Then they brought you here to the hospital in Wales,” he adds.

“Why don’t I remember being in the mountains?” I rub my head.

Owen pops an eyebrow. “You have a severe concussion, Jade. They couldn’t find you because your personal locator was tampered with.”

“Why would someone do that?” My head is a jumbled mess. I bounce to the next question. I have so many. “Who found me?”

“Mountain rescue. You’ve been all over the news.”

I feel dizzy. “Oh God, the tabloids will love this.” I rub my forehead. I’ll never be able to keep them at bay now.

“Blake did a press statement outside the hospital earlier today. It’s official. I’m the fiancé.” He puffs out his chest.

“You won’t be allowed to continue living in with me now.” I laugh, then grimace as my body aches from the small vibrations of movement.

“We’ll get married quicker then,” he states confidently.

I hold my hand up. “My ring,” I say, aghast. I must have lost it during the crash; the crash I remember nothing of.

“It’s here.” Owen fishes his dog tag out from under his tee shirt and nestled between the two tags is my ring strung from the chain. “They found it in your bra.”

I watch Owen sliding my ring off the thin gold chain. He refastens his necklace, then holds the gold and emerald gem between his fingers. “Shall we?”

I scrunch my nose up to say yes and smile.

He looks worried when he says, “But I have one condition.” The mood in the room drops a few degrees as Owen’s demeanor changes.

“What’s that?”

“I have to tell you something first. But I’m not sure you’re ready for more information.”

I worry about what he might have to say. Is something medically wrong with me? Am I paralyzed and haven’t realized it? I wiggle my toes to check I can feel them. Relief overwhelms me as I feel the sensation of my toes rubbing together. “Tell me,” I say boldly.

“It was my fault your plane crashed.”

I scoff. “Not possible.” Then he tells me the shitshow his lifeturned into after I left Castleview Cove, but I struggle to retain all the details.

I don’t remember his silent episodes or the calls from his friends telling me he was sick. In fact, I don’t remember days before my apparent crash. Not one memory. The last thing I remember is driving back from Castleview Cove.

It’s as if someone opened up my brain and scooped the memories out.

---