What did I do?
The man is injured. He has amnesia.
If he seems to think I’m his boyfriend, do I need to dissuade him from that impression?
Dr. Davis marches into the room. He glares at me. “What happened?”
“Nothing. We were talking and?—”
He gives me a look, and everything in my body crumples. Dr. Davis might be too young to look like the grumpy septuagenarian principal of a school who is lecturing me about my poor behavior, but that’s precisely how I feel.
“Something he wouldn’t want to hear?” Dr. Davis presses me.
“He thinks we’re together,” I say. “But I’m just his team’s massage therapist.”
Dr. Davis’s expression hardens. “I see.”
“And I was trying to tell him, but—” I gesture helplessly toward the traitor monitors.
“No one wants to be broken up with when they’re disorientedand frightened,” Dr. Davis says carefully. “Right now, Florian has attached himself to you. He’s just discovered he’s in a new country, on a new team, and has a brain injury. He might be wondering if he’ll ever play again?—”
“That’s terrible. Do you think he might not be able to play?”
Dr. Davis sighs. “We’ll monitor his symptoms. If they resolve, he should be able to.”
“Will they resolve?” my voice trembles.
Dr. Davis gives me an odd look, and maybe I’m not acting like someone who barely knows him.
“I hope so,” Dr. Davis says. “We’ll have a good idea soon.”
I nod, but I imagine he might not have a lot of experience with people with amnesia.
“You should leave,” Dr. Davis says. “I’ll explain things to him when he’s more stable.”
I imagine Florian alone in this hospital room, wondering why the person he thought cared about him vanished.
“No.” I shake my head.
“But—”
“He’s my boyfriend and he needs me.”
Dr. Davis frowns. “You just said?—”
“I won’t upset him,” I say. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“But—”
“I didn’t explain that well,” I say quickly. “We’re together. We’re just not… public. I, uh, was trying to remind him.” I give a nervous laugh. “Maybe he thought I meant I was saying we weren’t together.”
Dr. Davis studies me. I hold his gaze and refuse to flinch.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “Florian is stable now.”
I approach Florian again.
Florian looks lost and frightened, and there’s no way I can possibly hurt him. My whole life is dedicated to making people feel better. I’m not going to stop that now, even for a hockey player whodoesn’t like me.
