Page 2 of Lust & Lies

He nodded. “That’s when you, without realizing it, start to piece together your memories based on what you feel or see on television.

For instance, you may see someone on television in a red shirt.

That night, you dream about yourself in a red shirt.

Come morning, you’ve convinced yourself that you had a red shirt on when you had your wreck.

Your brain is like a computer, and it’s also a storyteller.

You take in data, and your brain automatically tries to create a story from that data.

That could be confusing for someone in your condition. ”

I guess that made sense... in a way.

“The best thing you can do is take it slow. Let your mind recover naturally. I don’t recommend filling her in on the gaps in her memory,” the doctor said, looking at the stranger.

My husband.

“Why not?” he asked.

“That will force her mind to try to conjure up a story of its own, which could lead to more false memories. Let her heal. Don’t rush her.”

Tuning them out, I searched my mind, desperate for something, a childhood memory, a home, a single moment from before I woke up in this bed. My favorite color. My favorite food. My first kiss. Nothing. There was nothing. The past didn’t exist. My chest tightened, panic building.

“I don’t... I don’t remember anything?” I murmured, staring down at the sheet.

My words cut their conversation short.

“I know this is scary. Well, I don’t know,” Dr. Mercer told me.

“Because I’m not in your shoes. But I want you to know that this may be temporary.

Memories return on their own time. Don’t force it.

And try not to let yourself get too agitated.

I know that’s easier said than done. But stress slows down healing.

I want you in a relaxed and calm environment as your brain works to put the puzzle pieces back together.

You’ll be able to go home in a couple of days.

But you’ll return in two weeks for a check-up. ”

Home? My gaze moved to the man who was still holding my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. I swallowed. Was I going home with him? I didn’t even know his name.

“Why am I going home so soon?” I asked. “I just woke up.”

“Your body has healed. And this isn’t your first time waking up.

You’ve woken up a few times since you’ve been here.

That’s how we know you have amnesia. You woke up and didn’t remember anything.

You didn’t stay up for long. But each time you were awake, I had your husband, who has been by your side this entire time, ask you questions.

You didn’t remember anything. And then you were out again as your body recovered.

We’ll continue monitoring you for a few days.

If we find a reason to keep you, we will.

We won’t let you leave here until we feel you’re ready. ”

None of that made sense. The fact that I never stayed up long should make them want to keep me here longer, to monitor me, not toss me out. Was money the issue? Did I even have any money? Shit! I didn’t know. Tears filled my gaze. I quickly blinked them back.

“If you have any more questions,” Dr. Mercer started. “I’ll be here for you to ask them. I’ll check on you again in a few hours. Okay, Mrs. Park?”

Mrs. Park? Noelle Park. That was my name... according to them. I didn’t feel like a Noelle Park. I didn’t feel like... anyone. I was no one. Nameless. Homeless. Lost. I blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay, not wanting to cry in front of these strangers.

“Mrs. Park?” The doctor said, cocking his head to the side, frowning at me.

“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!