A nurse, who looked pretty hot with her brown hair tied on top of her head and a scattering of freckles on her face, came running in. A man in a doctor’s coat followed behind her.
“How long has he been awake?” he asked her, and the nurse started checking me over.
The woman who had been crying spoke quickly, telling them that I started twitching in my fingers then opened my eyes. I looked down to my hand and saw her snowflake-pale skin inside mine.
Instantly, I pulled my hand from hers. What the fuck was going on? Did I do something extra stupid like get married while I was drunk?
“Arthur. Can you speak?” the nurse asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah. What’s going on here?” I tried to sit up but felt a little dizzy. Both the nurse and the other woman were there to help stabilize me.
“What is the last thing you remember?” She lifted a flashlight up to see my eyes, then brought her stethoscope to my chest to listen to my lungs and heartbeat.
“I was out with my best friend at Knockouts Bar. We were celebrating the closing on Fredricks Tower. Then I woke up here, with her in the room.” I grabbed for the glass of water next to my uncomfortable hospital bed and downed it in seconds. My throat was so dry, like I hadn’t drunk anything in days.
“You don’t remember anything?” The white-haired woman’s voice broke, and this time it wasn’t because I was awake—it was hurt.
“Did I meet you last night? Sorry, I don’t fucking recognize you.” Something in me felt like shit after saying those words to her. A strong instinct in my body was crying out to pull her into my arms and soothe the hurt I caused.
“Amnesia from the Pseudo-nitzchia. It happens a lot to people who ingest oysters or other infected seafood.” The doctor looked at me like he just solved the puzzle.
“So, I ate some bad seafood and lost my memory? I feel like I remember everything except from the bar to here.” My muscles were tensing, and I was beginning to get pissed off. I wanted to go home to my penthouse and have a glass of scotch, then call Ralph and give him all the shit he deserved for leaving me here.
“Arthur. You weren’t at the bar. You were in the water, absorbing the toxic algae into your body like a filter. You saved the world, and you were dying. Hell, you did die. You don’t remember any of it? You don’t remember me?”
I looked at the woman still sitting on my bed, her eyes pleaded for recognition to spark in mine. But there was none. My chest hurt, seeing her face fall in undeniable sorrow. Again, I wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t. She was nobody to me, despite her obviously thinking otherwise.
There wasn’t anything I could do or say to help her. What she said was crazy. Me? Arthur? A commercial real estate hot shot saving the world?
Of course, I could probably do some good in the world if I accepted that other side of me that begged to be released, but I wasn’t about to cross that line anytime soon.
The woman stood and left the room without another word.
For the next hour, I was told in detail what had happened to me and was shown graphic pictures of the new artificial organs I was now sporting. The whole thing was so confusing, and my mind was having a hard time grasping that I essentially hadtwo yearsmissing from my timeline.
Phillip Griffin had stopped by to visit to confirm everything the others had told me. I’d met the man once at a gala for his business, but other than a friendly hello, I’d never chatted with him since.
All these people knew me and knew me well. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember them, or the woman who ran from the room.
Even though people were talking to me nonstop and I should be listening, my mind was thinking about that woman. She had something about her I couldn’t shake. Maybe it was her looks, so unique and beautiful. Maybe it was the obvious devotion in her features when she looked at me, like I hung the moon in her world.
“You saved us all, and she saved you,” Phillip commented after the hospital staff left. I turned to look at him curiously.
“Gwendolyn.”
Gwendolyn. Even her name did something to me, like she was a glass of water to my parched soul. I shook my head, wondering where the hell these feelings where coming from.
“The white-haired girl?” I asked, even though I knew who he was talking about.
“Yeah. In hours, she solved a fifteen-year-old project with artificial organs—for you. You were broken, and she put you back together, piece by piece. Parts of you are new, and your memories are gone, but the heart doesn’t forget a love like that.”
I loved her? Did she love me?
An ache in my head started around my temple, and I felt like I was gonna have a shitty migraine today.
“I really don’t know what to make of all this. It’s pretty fucking nuts.” I was as honest with him as I could get. I wished I knew what I was supposed to do right now.
If I listened to what my mind was telling me to do, I’d call Gwendolyn back into the room to hear her speak for me again. To hear those memories of us from her lips.
