“Fuck, Mel, I was so scared,” the man rumbles, leaning forward and resting his forehead on mine.
“Sir, if you’ll just let me get her bed situated, I’ll get outta here,” the orderly says, annoyance in his tone at having been interrupted in his duties.
The man stands, glaring at the orderly. “I can do that.”
“I’m sure you can, but it’s my job, so if you’ll please…” The orderly waves his hand as if to sayget outta my way.
It takes less than a minute for my bed to be wheeled into position, and as the orderly leaves, it’s on the tip of my tongue to beg him to stay.
I shift my tired gaze to the large man standing next to the bed. He’s tapping the screen of a cell phone, probably sending atext. When I clear my throat, he shoves the device in his pocket and focuses on me.
“Jesus, baby,” he says, the words coming out on an exhale. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“One minute, I’m waiting on you and Rowdy to get to the clubhouse so I can marry you, and the next, I’m pacing a fucking hospital waiting room,” he growls. “I’m too young for you to be giving me a damn heart attack, Mel.”
Married? Rowdy? Mel?
I stare at the man, trying to make this all make sense. He clearly knows me, but all of his words mean nothing.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He lifts my hand in his and brings it to his lips to press a kiss to my palm. “You can ask me anything.”
Unsure of how this will go, I take a deep breath and wince at the pain it causes.
“Are you Hank?”
6
LYRIC
Are you Hank?
Mellie’s question ricochets from one brain cell to the next as I try not to give away the utter devastation it causes. The doctor came in before the orderly brought Mellie to the room and told me that the nurse in recovery had noted memory issues on Mellie’s chart, so I tried to prepare myself. Obviously, I failed.
I take a deep breath and lock eyes with my fiancée, a woman who’s staring at me like I’m a complete stranger.
“No, I’m not Hank,” I tell her. “My name is Heath, but my friends and brothers call me Lyric.”
She scrunches her forehead in confusion. “Lyric?”
“Yeah, it’s…” I run a hand through my already disheveled hair. “Ya know what… that’s not important right now. My name is Heath. Hank is my dad.”
“But the nurse said I was in a car with a man named Hank,” she says quietly.
I sigh, unsure how to proceed with this conversation. I want to tell her everything, shout every detail of our lives until it sinks in, and she remembers. The doctor cautioned me againstthat, though. If I want her to genuinely recall things, it needs to happen naturally and not because I’m an impatient bastard.
When I reach for her hand, she pulls it away, and it takes everything in me not to lash out. I’m not mad at her, but I’m fucking livid at the world, at what happened, at… myself.
How could I let this happen?
“You were,” I confirm, unsure how much to divulge.
Mellie fiddles with the blanket, her eyes cast down. “You, um… You called me Mellie, and then Mel. Is that…” Her throat works as she swallows. “Is that my name?”
My heart breaks for her, for the details she’s missing, the memories that have disappeared.
