Page 4 of Lust & Lies
“O-Okay,” I muttered only because the doctor was staring at me, expecting a response.
He faced my husband. “Contact the nurse if you need anything, Aiden.”
Aiden.
My husband’s name was Aiden. Aiden Park. I’m guessing he was Asian American. I didn’t even know my husband’s ethnicity. All of this sounded like a bad dream or the setup of a horror movie.
Aiden Park shook the doctor’s hand, and they exchanged a few more words before Dr. Mercer smiled at me and left the room, leaving me alone with the stranger who was my husband.
His fingers tightened around mine. “You look nervous.”
Hell, yeah, I’m nervous. You would be, too, if you were in my shoes.
Did I even own shoes? I wouldn’t know because I had traumatic amnesia, and everyone around me knew me better than I knew myself.
“It’s okay, my love,” Aiden whispered. “I’m here with you. I won’t leave your side, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Ugh!Why was he talking to me like I was the most precious thing in his world? He made me feel guilty for not knowing him, for wanting him to get away from me. Then it hit me!Damn.
I’d never stopped to think about how hard this had to be on him if he really was my husband. He was married to a woman who didn’t remember him. Who didn’t remember falling in love with him.
A woman who didn’t want him to touch her or even talk to her. That had to be hard on him. Yet, he couldn’t focus on his pain because he was too concerned about mine. Guilt hummed through me. My gaze dropped to the bed.
“I... I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude. I just... I don’t remember you.”
For a while, he was silent.
Then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there a moment before he whispered, “You don’t owe me an apology. And please don’t feel guilty for something you have no control over. You don’t have to remember right now. Just trust me, sweetheart. Trust in me, and I’ll take care of everything else.”
My eyes rose to his. His smile looked genuine. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to smile back at him. I kept repeating his words over and over again in my head.
“You don’t have to remember right now. Just trust me, sweetheart. Trust in me, and I’ll take care of everything else.”
Was I tripping, or did those supposedly heartfelt words hold an ominous ring to them? Though his words were unsettling, I had no choice but to nod. But I didn’t trust him. I didn’t even know him. I didn’t even know myself.
Whether I trusted him or not didn’t matter. I was stuck here, in this room, in this hospital. I was stuck with the stranger who claimed to be my husband. I was stuck in the body of a woman I didn’t know. This was worse than a horror movie.
This was hell!
CHAPTER TWO
NOELLE
I SPENT THE NEXT WEEKin the hospital. Most of the time, I didn’t talk. Only when someone asked me a direct question or when silence felt too suffocating. The nurses came and went with their polite smiles and subtle stares at Aiden.
If he noticed their attention, he didn’t let it show. The crazy thing was, I was hoping one of them would snatch him up and carry him away from me so I could be alone. The man never left my side.
Even when I was in the bathroom, I knew he was right outside the door, waiting for me, asking me if I was okay every five seconds. I couldn’t even have a bathroom break in peace.
Dr. Mercer checked my chart every morning. I kept hoping he’d find something wrong with me, a reason for me to stay. He never did. He only smiled and told me I was doing much better. Yet, I didn’t feel any better.
And then there was the therapist, a soft-spoken woman who talked to me like I was made of glass. Like I’d shatter into pieces if she said the wrong thing to me. She talked super slow, as if I wouldn’t be able to keep up if she spoke faster.
She visited often, asking questions I couldn’t answer and then giving me a sad look afterward. She wasn’t helpful at all. In fact, after her visits, I felt worse, like a failure. Like it was my fault I couldn’t remember anything.
Before I could be discharged, I had to do a few days of physical therapy to show that I could walk and lift things without assistance or too much discomfort. My body was fine, a little sore, scraped up, and such, but I was physically okay.
It was my head that was the problem. Follow-up visits were scheduled, and Aiden had to be present for each of them because I wasn’t allowed to be alone for the first few weeks. I was also instructed to see a therapist that the hospital recommended.
