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Yes, she really couldn’t see that nugget of information going down very well with him.
It was all going wrong. Everything.
She tried to rack her brains for what she knew about amnesia, but apart from the general knowledge that it meant you couldn’t remember things, she wasn’t sure what else she knew about it. It wasn’t something she’d specialised in. She was a certified nurse-midwife. She looked after labouring women.
She knew that there were different types of amnesia—some amnesia was permanent and some temporary. Dr Waters had said it might be so. If Sam’s was temporary then he would regain his memories on his own and everything would be back to the way it was before...
But I was leaving him before.
She swallowed hard, seeing in her mind’s eye that day she’d laid the suitcase upon the bed and stared at it. Then she’d lain a hand on her abdomen. This wasn’t just about her and Sam any more. There was a baby to consider, and there was no way she was going to let her child be rejected by its father before it was even born. She knew what it felt like to be left behind and unwanted. It hurt. Left you bewildered. Made you question yourself. Your own value. She would not put her own child through that.
Emily swallowed the last of the water and crumpled the plastic cup. She put it into a trash can and walked back over to Sam’s door, put her hand on it, waiting, taking a deep breath.
She was about to go back in when Melanie reappeared.
‘I have a paper for you.’
She looked down. Saw the day’s headlines. The date. ‘Thank you.’ Her mouth felt dry. There was a strange, tinny sort of taste in her mouth and she wondered if she were going to be sick.
‘And the doctor will come down as soon as he’s finished with a patient on the next floor. Ten minutes?’
Emily nodded, swallowing hard. ‘Brilliant. Thanks.’
She watched as Melanie headed back to answer a ringing telephone and then with one final inhalation she pushed open Sam’s door and stepped inside.
Their gazes met across the room.
If I’m going to get through this then I need to be strong.
‘I’ve brought you something.’
‘An apology?’ He sounded bitter. Hurt.
‘No. I don’t need to give you one. But I will give you this.’ She walked across the room and handed him the newspaper before stepping back. As if imagining that the second he confirmed the date for himself he would somehow explode. ‘Look at the date.’
At first she didn’t think he would look at it, but he finally lifted the paper and scanned the first page for the date.
She knew the exact second his gaze fell upon it. He seemed to stiffen, the muscle in his jaw flickering, the focus in his eyes intensifying before he flipped through, checking that all the other pages stated the same date, too. Then he went back to the beginning, scanned the headlines.
Sam dropped the paper as if it were contaminated, closing his eyes briefly as it all sank in.
‘Two years? I’ve lost two years?’
He sounded so broken. So hurt. It made her heart ache. Made her feel like she needed to cross the room to him and take him in her arms and hug him better. She didn’t want him to be hurting. She never had.
‘I’m so sorry, Sam. But it’s true. We’ve been married eighteen months now. We honeymooned in Paris. We were very happy.’
He instantly looked up, met her gaze, pinning her with his normally soft blue eyes. ‘Were?’
She tried not to cry. She seemed to be so emotional since finding out she was pregnant. She struggled to keep control of her voice. ‘We’re having one or two...problems.’
Sam bristled. ‘What kind of problems?’
Emily shook her head. ‘We can talk about those later. The doctor’s coming to talk to you now. About the amnesia.’
‘Are there problems at work? Is the Monterey failing?’
She could hear the fear in his voice. The concern. ‘No. It’s doing very well. The launch was amazing and we’ve had almost full capacity from day one. You haven’t stopped working—working all hours to make it a success.’
At that moment the door opened and a new doctor came in, holding Sam’s case notes in his hands.
Emily snapped to attention and crossed her arms, stepping back out of the doctor’s way.
‘Mr and Mrs Saint? I’m Dr Elijah Penn—how can I be of assistance?’
She managed a weak smile and went over to shake Dr Penn’s hand. ‘Hello, Doctor. My husband has just learned that he’s lost two years of his memory after his head injury. We were in a car crash together ten days ago. We were wondering if you could tell us some more about what to expect, and what we can do to help him regain his memory.’
Dr Penn frowned. ‘I’ve only had a brief read-through of your notes, Mr Saint, and without giving you a thorough examination and questioning you myself over what you remember I can’t be precise here. There are many different types of amnesia caused by traumatic head injury and right now it would be hard to be specific.’
‘Can you tell us what you do know?’
‘I wouldn’t like to guess, as I’m not your husband’s physician and I wouldn’t want to tell you anything erroneous. But if you’ll give me a moment or two with your husband then I’ll tell you what I can.’
Emily nodded. Okay. That sounded sensible. She left Sam’s room once again and went and sat outside. From her purse she pulled out her cell phone and felt drawn to the photo album. Opening it, she began flicking through. Perhaps there was something here that might help Sam? Perhaps if he looked at their moments together that might provoke some kind of memory?
There were lots to go through. Many of the photographs were from work. Mothers-to-be whom she’d become great friends with, bouquets that she’d been sent as thanks. There were some pictures of the house after they’d had some work done on it. Other people’s babies.
Why weren’t there any pictures of her and Sam together? She had a few selfies. One or two of Sam in scrubs about to go into a Caesarean section, and then one of him relaxing at the house, reading a work journal. In neither of them was he smiling that beautiful smile she hadn’t seen for such a long time. When had he last smiled at her? Apart from today? Because that didn’t count any more, did it? He was of the mind-set that she’d just accepted his proposal. He thought they were happy.
If only...
She scrolled furiously through the rest of the photos. Nothing of them together except for one right at the beginning, when she’d first got the phone, of her and Sam, heads together, smiling at the camera.
When had that been? She checked the date stamp. It had been just after the Monterey had opened. Of course they’d been happy then. Work had been enthralling. They’d been busy. Passing like ships in the night, sometimes, but planning their wedding.
She felt the tears threaten once again and stood up abruptly, shaking them off. What on earth was she going to do? And how was Sam feeling? Thinking they were blissfully happy only to learn that he couldn’t remember his own wedding and had no idea that over the last eighteen months he had slowly been distancing himself from her.
The doctor came to the door. ‘Would you like to come in?’
Emily shoved the phone back in her jacket pocket and hurried through, glancing at Sam. He looked glum, but reached out his hand.
Puzzled, but hopeful, she went over to him and took his hand in hers, her heart pounding in her chest because he’d reached out to her. Needed her. He hadn’t done that for such a long time.
‘Bad news?’
Dr Penn held his clipboard against his chest. ‘I’ve had a chance to chat with your husband. Ask him a few questions. See what he understands of his situation. You’ve both been very lucky in that you escaped the car accident with a minimum amount of injuries. But from my understanding from this limited examination I would presume to say that Sam is suffering from a retrograde amnesia.’
Emily squeezed his fingers and looked at him. ‘Which is...?’
‘It can be caused by various conditions including head trauma, which Sam has gone through. Retrograde amnesia means that Sam’s most recent memories are less likely to be recalled, but his long-term memories are easier for him to remember.’
‘Right.’
‘It’s usually temporary, which is the good thing—though I have to warn you, of course, that not everyone will experience it that way. Sam may be unlucky. We have no way of knowing for sure into which camp Sam will fall.’
‘But if it is temporary...is there anything we can do to try and help the memories come back?’
Dr Penn nodded. ‘It can help to try and provoke those memories. Show Sam familiar things—photos, videos, possessions, favourite foods, smells, clothing. Anything and everything that might help the memories come back.’
‘Places? Like if I took him to where we got married or our favourite restaurant?’
‘Anywhere he can be immersed for as long as possible should help. Usually it’s not just one item that makes memories return but a drowning in overall sensation—place, aroma, sounds, people. All of it at once. Like déjà-vu.’
Sam spoke up. ‘So if I went home...that might do it?’
‘It could, but I can’t promise anything. Memories can take days or even weeks to return.’ He swallowed. ‘Maybe longer.’
‘And would they all come back straight away?’
‘It’s different for everyone.’
Sam squeezed her hand. ‘So can I go home?’
Dr Penn shook his head. ‘Not straight away. I know you didn’t suffer any broken bones or organ damage, but you did have a nasty hit to the head and you had a stent fitted to drain fluid. We need to monitor you for a while yet, and if you manage to stay stable, with no spikes of temperature or complications, and physio goes well, then maybe we’ll look at letting you go.’ He smiled. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another patient to attend to.’
They watched the doctor disappear and Emily turned to Sam, aware that they were still holding hands. It was nice. It had been a long time since he had held her like that and she hated how much she needed his touch to reassure her. She didn’t want to let him go. She never had.
‘How are you feeling, Sam? After all that?’
‘It’s a lot to take in. But I guess I ought to look on the bright side.’
She frowned. ‘Bright side?’
He nodded. ‘Yes. I know who I am. I know who you are. I still have all the knowledge that lets me be an OB/GYN. I can still work—eventually.’ He waited until she looked him fully in the eyes. ‘I know how much I love you.’
She swallowed and smiled, trying to still the beating of her heart. It was running away with joy at his words. For how long had she yearned to hear those simple words from Sam?
But there’s still so much you don’t know!
Could she truly revel in those three simple words? He’d said he loved her, but he still didn’t know the truth of their marriage.
He’d hurt her. She’d felt so rejected, so forgotten as Sam had stayed at work, or gone to fundraising galas without her, or disappeared to play tennis with his lawyer. All those arguments they’d had...all those harsh words they’d said to each other out of spite or desperation. How could she forget all they had gone through?
He had. Completely. Right now he was unaware of it all.
But she...? She remembered it all too well. Every argument was a scar upon her heart.
He was trying to be positive. She could see that. Feel that. Should she burst his bubble now? Tell him about the baby?
He needed to know. Needed to hear the truth so that he could be in full possession of the facts. The facts he needed, anyway.
‘There’s something more, Sam.’
‘Oh?’
‘You’re not going to like it.’
He smiled. ‘Let me be the judge of that.’
His smile twanged her heartstrings. It was so familiar! Held so much of that gorgeous cheeky charm that she’d fallen in love with!
But she knew. Knew Sam didn’t want a baby. He wasn’t ready for one after being married for eighteen months. Why would he feel ready for one when he’d thought they weren’t even married?
‘They...did some tests on me after the accident. Blood tests.’
He nodded, frowning. ‘Go on.’
‘They found something.’
His face filled with concern and she could imagine what he was thinking. Cancer. A mass. A shadow. Some disease...
‘What did they find?’
She searched his face, knowing the response he would give, knowing how his face would crumple at hearing the news, not sure if she could bear the way he would drop all contact with her, let go of the hand that he was clutching so tight. Be angry with her again just as she’d started to enjoy the way he held her hand, the way he’d smiled at her before he started to learn the truth.
She’d missed him. So much!
But he’d made it clear he didn’t want a baby with her, so telling him this was the hardest thing she would ever have to do. It might end them. But she had no choice.
‘They found...’ She paused, swallowing hard, ‘I’m pregnant, Sam. I’m having our baby.’
* * *
He knew he was staring at her, but he couldn’t stop. She was...pregnant?
Images of Serena instantly flooded his brain and he blinked them away. No. He would not think of her. That was all too raw, still. Because even though many years had passed he’d pushed away what had happened and stamped it down low.
Pregnant. Pregnant! Emily. His fiancée. No. That was wrong—Emily was now apparently his wife. For almost two years. And she was having a—
He swallowed hard.
He loved this woman. He loved her so much! He should be pleased. But the way she was looking at him right now... Like she was frightened of his response? Like she was expecting him to start stamping around the room, or throwing things, or—
Sam knew what he ought to do. He should smile, say that it was great news, pretend that he was thrilled, but...
I’m going to be a father. I’m going to be...a father!
Surely she knew how he felt about this? What had happened to Serena had almost destroyed him. How had they been so careless?
