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“Hey.” The man smiled. “How’s your headache?”
“Better,” I softly spoke. “You were in here earlier with the other doctor. Are you a neurologist also?”
“No. I’m an orthopedic surgeon.”
“Did I break a bone or something?” I looked down at my arms and legs.
“No. You didn’t break anything.”
The sadness in his eyes gripped me and left me incredibly confused and terrified. I picked up the white deer that was lying next to me and noticed the large diamond on my finger. I stared at it for a moment and then looked over at the stranger staring back at me.
“I’m married?” My brows furrowed.
“No. You’re engaged.”
“That’s impossible. I’m not dating anyone.”
“Charlotte.” He reached over, grabbed my hand, and I quickly pulled it away. “I’m your fiancé.” His eyes swelled with tears. “My name is Dr. Conner Kind, and we’re getting married on September 2nd.”
“You’re lying! I’m not dating anyone! I would know if I was dating someone or engaged to be married! Who are you?” I shouted.
The doctor that was in my room earlier ran in.
“Charlotte, calm down. You need to stay calm. Your brain is still healing.”
“What is happening?” Tears streamed down my face. “What happened to me?” I struggled to breathe as fear gripped me.
The doctor held my shoulders. “Calm down. Deep breath. That’s it. Another one.”
I took in a second breath.
“Good. Now, one more,” he said.
I took in one more breath and felt my body calm.
“I want you to tell me what you remember before the accident.”
“I had just left the university and was heading to Hope Memorial for my shift.”
“What are you studying?” the doctor asked.
“I’m studying to become a clinical psychologist. I’m working on my doctorate and have an internship at Hope Memorial. Did anyone call them to tell them what happened to me?”
Both doctors looked at each other.
“Charlotte, listen to me very carefully. You suffered a traumatic brain injury from the accident.”
“I know. I remember you telling me that when I woke up.”
“Do you remember what my name is?” he asked.
“Dr. Jackson Kind. You’re my neurologist. Are you two related?” I furrowed my brows.
“He’s my brother,” Conner said.
“What you’re experiencing is retrograde amnesia,” Jackson said. “It’s a—”
“I know what retrograde amnesia is, Dr. Kind. Fuck.” Tears swelled in my eyes. “How many years did I lose?”
