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"Don't you know anything about women, James? It means I like you."
This boosted my ego like nothing else. I had never felt better than I did at that moment.
We walked into the restaurant, and I saw every man in the room turning our way. The looks that went down her body and stopped on her ass made my blood boil, but all I could do was glare at them. I let go of her hand and circled my arm around her shoulders, pulling her body close in a possessive way.
Our waiter showed us to the table, set as I asked, with red roses floating in a bowl of water and candles flickering. I was not pleased to find that his eyes were also set on Rita, this time on her breasts, so I gave him an ugly look too.
We sat, and she extended her hand over the table to take mine.
"This is perfect, thank you."
"My pleasure, love. Do you want anything specific?"
"You order whatever. I bet it will be amazing."
In another impulse move, I kissed the back of her hand then turned to the waiter.
"We'll start with two salmon bruschetta and a Caesar Salad, and for the main course, we'll have the tortellini with spinach and ricotta. And..." Rita pinched my hand to get my attention.
"The pasta doesn't have basil, right? You know how severe my allergy is."
She's allergic to basil too?
Words failed me, and a paralytic sensation of fear took over. It never crossed my mind that she might be allergic to anything except kiwi because she'd mentioned it before. I saw people die from food sensitivities all the time, and I couldn’t believe I almost put her in a danger like this.
All I could do was helplessly look at the waiter, and he took pity on me.
"Of course, I'll let the kitchen know to hold on the basil for your order."
"Thank you," she said and gave him a smile, and I didn’t think I’d ever been more jealous.
"Anything to drink?"
"Wine, please, the cook’s choice."
He brought us a bottle of red and poured two glasses, then finally gave us some privacy.
Good, because we needed to talk, and I needed to decide what I was gonna do with this woman.
...Besides fucking her brains out.
When I woke up with a needle in my hand and no clothes on, I was scared. I knew I was. The first thing I noticed was the powerful lights and the fact that my brain wasn't working as it should. Things were fuzzy, and there was no order in my thoughts. I felt like someone put my brain in a washing machine. Things were not right; the landscape outside didn't match the timeline in my head, and panic started to swallow my gut... until he told me I wasn’t alone.
Our wedding bands sparkled in a ray of light, and my heart skipped a beat. I couldn't remember getting married. I had tried ever since waking up in that hospital, but no memory came to me. Still, since James told me he was my husband, all that fear evaporated because I knew that he had my missing pieces.
I didn’t know who he was, and I didn’t know what year we were in, but I still remembered who I was. I was strong and stubborn. I was witty and cerebral. I wouldn't have picked just anyone, and it seemed my husband was one hell of a man.
"How did we meet, James? How did a girl like me, from a slum near Havana end up married with a good looking, successful doctor?"
"We..." He stopped suddenly and looked at me with hesitation. "Why don't we talk about what you remember, and I can fill in the blanks?"
I was anxious to find out what I was missing, not to talk about what I already knew, but who was I to go against medical advice?
"I told you, I remember everything from my childhood and my life in Cuba. I remember my family, then things started to get blurry. The last broken memory I have is the fight with my father. I know there was a lot of shouting, but I don't know why."
"I'm sorry, dear, but I already told you, I don't have the answer for that. You never said why you and your family drifted apart. I can tell you that you have held that trauma with you for a long time. When you hit your head, your brain reset from that point on."
It made sense, I thought. It was an ugly memory that I wanted to forget. I loved my parents more than anything. They were poor but hard working, and I knew they had given me everything in their power. And now that I had forgotten, I would have given anything to know what caused our fallout. Maybe I could find a way to make it right.
