Page 4 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 3
I stared down at my hand. There was a tan line on my ring finger. A line that would have formed from years of wearing an engagement ring. Or a wedding ring. Or both. I looked back at the man on his knees, with the desperation on his face. There were small crinkles around the corners of his eyes. Lines that came with age. He was…old. Not old like my parents. But certainly older than me. Too old for me.
“I need you to remember.” His Adam’s apple rose and fell. “I need you.”
I felt like I was going to throw up. How many times had I wished Austin would look at me the way this stranger did? So why did his gaze just make me feel sick to my stomach? I pulled my hand out of his grasp and shifted away from him on the bed.
“Mom, Dad. Can’t you just take me home? Please?”
“Penny, the doctor thinks it’s best if you just go back to your normal routine,” my mom said.
“Then take me back to school…”
“Your normal routine with James. And Scarlett. Here in New York.”
“But not for a few days,” my doctor interjected. “We’d like to monitor your progress. Despite what your husband thinks, not every doctor affiliated with this hospital is out to get you. You’re safe here. And hopefully your memory will come back before you even head back to your apartment.”
I barely heard him. I was completely focused on one word he’d said.Husband.I glanced down at the tan line on my finger.I was married?I looked at the man on his knees again.To him?
“Does that sound good?” the doctor asked. “In the meantime, there are a bunch of people in the waiting room ready to help jog your memory. Familiar faces and stories will be good.” He cleared his throat. “Not angry, harsh moments. Pleasant fun ones.” He was staring at…my husband.
I swallowed hard. “You’re not a doctor?” I asked him.
For a moment it looked like he was going to cry. But then he lowered both his eyebrows. He stared at me in a way that no one ever had before. Like he hated me and loved me at the same time. Goosebumps rose on my skin.
“No. I’m not a doctor,” he said.
“What’s your name?”
“James.” He pressed his lips together and stared at me for a moment, like he was willing me to remember. “James Hunter.” He looked at me expectantly, like his name alone would trigger a memory.
But I didn’t feel like I had anything to remember. I felt like everyone here was wrong. The doctor. My parents. This man kneeling beside my bed. This beautiful, broken man. I didn’t need to know anything more about him to know that he was so broken. And even though I didn’t know him, I hoped to God it wasn’t my fault that he was like this. Because I had no clue how to fix him. I had no idea who he was. And as soon as I was out of this hospital I was going back to school. I had finals to take. School was my number one priority.
