Remember Me

17

The room was spinning when I tried opening my eyes. My head was too heavy to lift up and even opening my eyes was a challenge. I felt like I'd been punched in the face one too many times.

A machine to my left beeped, filling the room with its sound. Across my torso, I could feel wires and tubes. An IV stuck out of my right arm, a clear substance running into my veins.

I opened my eyes fully and saw I was strapped to the bed. Was I in trouble over something? Did I hurt somebody and need to be protected? Was I being protected from myself?

"Sterling, baby, you're okay." I looked to my left again and saw a man standing in the doorway. He had a long, white coat on with a badge clipped over the pocket. He looked familiar but my head was too foggy to know exactly who he was.

I tried to speak but my lips wouldn't move. Everything felt difficult to do. Moving, talking, thinking. All of it seemed too stressful for me to handle.

The man came up to me and ran his fingers through my hair. "Baby, lay still. You need to take it easy."

I whimpered, the only sound I could actually make.

He shook his head. "I know you're scared. You'll be back in our room soon."

Our room.

I blinked my eyes slowly at him, the movement taking a lot out of me. I let myself relax back into the pillow behind me, knowing I'd fall asleep at any moment.

He kissed my forehead and repositioned the oxygen tube on my face. "That's my good girl."

I didn't know who he was or who he was supposed to mean to be but I liked the names he called me. I liked being special to someone. Surely I wasn't in any trouble and the restraints were just to help me. Once I was stronger, I could go back with him and everything would be fine.

I couldn't wait.

---

The man who'd been sitting with me was my husband. He told me I'd have a hard time remembering much due to my surgery. I was sick and he was taking care of me because he didn't trust the other doctors at the hospital. At least not with me.

When he finally took me back to our room, I was still fragile. I had to be helped in and out of a wheelchair. I was still using oxygen to help me breathe and James told me I'd have the IV in me every day. It wasn't an ideal situation but at least I wasn't dead.

James pulled the blankets up to my chest and adjusted the IV so the blanket didn't pull on it. I didn't feel like I needed the IV and oxygen tube and special treatment. But James knew what I needed more so than I did. I wasn't going to argue when he was trained to handle situations such as mine.

My stomach was starting to grow from the baby inside of me. I wasn't sure how different it had been before my surgery. At least James knew what he was doing enough to keep the baby alive. I might not have wanted it if it meant hurting the baby.

"Are you comfortable, Sterling?"

I nodded, watching him as he gathered a blanket and pillow from the closet. "Don't you want to sleep with me?"

He glanced at me over his left shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Where will you sleep?"

He smiled as he walked back to my side. "We do have a couch, silly."

"I'm still a little foggy."

He brushed the hair from my face and kissed my forehead. "We can talk more in the morning, okay? I want you to get your rest."

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Of course."

I settled into the bed and watched him walk to the light switch by the door.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."