JOEY
Sleep eluded me. I was restless throughout the night, my brain refusing to settle for the night.
Lydia.
Lydia. Lydia. Lydia.
Her name kept circling around in my head, a relentless whisper that wouldn't fade away no matter how hard I tried to calm down.
I stared at the wall, barely managing to stop myself from running down to the ICU to confirm that she was still there. That she was alive.
That she had been alive all these while.
Why had she done that to me? How could she have left just like that, and stayed away without any obvious reason or explanation?
Thoughts like this haunted me, and my heart was burdened with the pain of possible deceit. It was unfair to me, whatever had happened to make her leave.
Suddenly and without any warning, my phone rang. The sound of my ringtone jolted me harshly out of my head, and I was grateful for the diversion.
It was the chief resident, the one who assisted in the surgery.
I picked up immediately.
"We have an emergency, sir. It's about Elena Davidson. Her vitals are deteriorating, and I think she's going into shock."
A frown creased on my forehead even as I stood up. I had no memory of ever performing surgery on someone named Elena Davidson, but I walked out of my office nonetheless.
"Who's Elena? What was her diagnosis?" I asked curtly.
The resident paused for a tiny moment before she responded.
"Elena is the woman we operated on yesterday, sir. The road accident victim."
I came to a sudden halt.
"What?!"
"I need you down here immediately. Please. She's going to die if we don't do something. I've already booked an OR," the resident said abruptly, her urgency lacing each and every of her word before she hung up.
Without stopping to think, I tore down the hallway. Who the fuck was Elena? Why was my wife's name changed from Lydia to that?
Was it all a part of her ploy to stay away from me?
As she was rushed back into the operating room, I couldn't help the wave of confusion that was now swimming in my blood and pounding in my veins.
Everything made no sense.
But like I did yesterday, I pushed my thoughts away and operated on my wife for the second time.
I did everything I could to save her. Now, all she had to do was survive. And I would get my answers.
~~
ONE MONTH LATER
"Do you feel any pain in your head?" I asked, keeping my expression carefully blank. I could feel the stares of the nurses and my resident burning a hole through my back, but I kept my cool.
They must be feeling pity for me, seeing as my wife was looking at me as though I was no one but a stranger to her.
Lydia shook her head, her face slightly twisted in confusion.
"I'm sorry, but where am I?" she asked.
I raised an eyebrow.
"You're in the hospital, Lydia," I responded, unable to stop myself from calling her name.
She blinked at me. Once. Twice. Her throat bobbed, betraying how anxious she was.
"How long have I been here?" she asked again.
"One month."
"One month? That's an awfully long time. What…what happened to me?"
"You were involved in a car accident."
Her questions was beginning to make me a little bit worried. I mean, I was expecting some sort of recognition from her, even if she had a lot of explanation to do.
But to outrightly pretend she didn't have any personal ties to me, to ask questions like she didn't remember anything was. That was weird.
"I'm sorry, but why do you keep talking to me like you know me? Do you know who I am?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky as the words hovered in the air between us.
My heart stopped.
"Excuse me?" I blurted out, unable to believe my ears.
Her frown deepened. The beep of the machines hooked to her arm seemed to get louder as seconds passed, and my heart was twisting painfully in my chest.
"I…I just wanted to know if you know me. I…I can't seem to remember anything," she went on.
My mind went blank, as if it had been wiped clean like a brand new slate.
"And what exactly, do you mean by that? How can you not remember anything?" I asked, unable to keep tremble from my voice.
She looked taken aback by my reaction. I sighed as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm down.
I had no reason to be mad at her. Not yet. I still needed to get a grasp on what was going on here.
Tears rapidly filled her eyes.
"I swear. I don't remember anything. My head is blank. Everything seems…strange. I don't recall anything. My earliest memory is me waking up right here, on this bed. Nothing more."
The nurse stepped forward and spoke directly to me.
"I checked her vitals and everything, and there seemed to be nothing wrong. The surgery — both of them — went well. Her neural pathways are holding up. And this is a possibility we didn't look out for," she explained.
I could not take my eyes away from Lydia. She was staring at me with wide eyes that was filled with fear, and I suddenly felt bad for even judging her and thinking she was pretending to be a stranger to me.
Something terrible seemed to have happened, and I had to do everything I could to help her.
Turning to face the nurse and my resident, I held their gazes.
"I understand. Having Amnesia after such a dangerous injury is not that uncommon, but we certainly weren't expecting it. I'll explain everything to her. You can leave now," I ordered.
The sudden urge to be with my wife alone, to stay with her without any interruption was strong.
They exchanged glances but said nothing as they walked out. The nurse when squeezed my arm and muttered good luck as they left.
When the door closed behind them, I turned to face Lydia.
We stared at each other, and my eyes filled with tears at the stark unfamiliarity on her face.
"You know me, don't you? I can see it in your eyes," she whispered.
I sat down at the edge of her bed and took her hand in mine. Her hand was unbelievably soft like it had always been, and holding her like that made my heart clench with a mixture of nostalgia and longing.
I remembered how her hands always felt in mine, how they fit perfectly. The memory seemed like ages ago, and I felt as though I was remembering another lifetime.
"Who are you?" she asked. Her voice was soft. Small. Weakened with fear.
Looking up to meet her gaze, I didn't bother wiping the tears in my eyes away as I answered.
"I am your husband."
Her hand fell away from mine in shock, and she gasped.