Page 49 of Your Love

I want to speak to my parents and ask them what is going on, but for now, I’m content with this momentary reprieve from fear and discomfort. With a heavy sigh, I allow myself to give in to the effects of the medication and drift off to sleep.

“Kerri,” a soft voice speaks into my ear as a familiar, soft hand brushes the hair from my forehead. My heavy eyes flutter open, and I see Mama’s sweet smile hovering above me. “How are you feeling, Pumpkin?”

“Better now, I guess,” I answer. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on?”

Mama looks at me with nothing but adoration shining in her blue eyes—the same color as my own. But behind that adoration, I note sadness, as well. Whatever they are about to tell me is not going to be fun to hear. “The doctor spoke to the on-staff psychiatrist, and they’ll be into talking to you in just a little while.”

My eyebrows rise to my hairline. I wasn’t expecting that answer. “Psychiatrist? Am I crazy?”

She tilts her head to the side and brushes my forehead gently. “No, honey, you’re not crazy. You’ve been through a lot in the last couple of years.” She pauses before continuing as if trying to decide if she should tell me anything else. “They can explain it better than I can, but it seems that your brain is scrambling two different experiences right now.”

“Scrambling two different experiences? So, I’ve been in another car accident?”

“Let’s just wait for the doctors to get here to talk to you, honey.” She smooths my hair down and offers me a sip of water, which I accept because although I’m frustrated with her non-answer, my throat feels like cracked concrete right now.

A few minutes later, Daddy enters the room with two men, one of whom I recognize as the doctor who’s been taking care of me for the last couple of days. The other man doesn’t spark any recognition. He’s not wearing a lab coat like the other doctors— just a button-down shirt and slacks, giving a more relaxed appearance. He must be a psychiatrist.

“Hello, Kerri,” he says smoothly. “I’m Dr. Redmond. I’m working with Dr. Sparks to help you understand what’s happened to you since your accident.”

Finally, some answers. I sit up a bit straighter. The pain tears through my chest at the movement, but I want to look this man in the eye as much as possible. “What exactly do you mean what’s happened to me? I felt fine until you guys let that lunatic walk into my room.”

A heavy, suffocating silence falls like a thick blanket over the room. Dr. Sparks mirrors Dr. Redmond’s stark expression as they share a meaningful glance before returning their attention to me.

“Well, that’s what we need to talk to you about,” says Dr. Redmond in a calm yet serious tone.

He pulls up a chair to the vacant side of my bed and takes a seat. His presence is comforting despite the gravity of the situation. “Please indulge me and answer some of these questions. I know you’ve already answered most of them since your accident, but I need to make sure I have a complete understanding of what happened.”

I nod and brace myself for the inevitable onslaught of probing questions.

“Do you remember why you’re here in the hospital?”

“I do,” I reply with confidence, focusing on keeping my voice steady. “I was in a car accident.’

“Now, Kerri, this is very important,” he says. “Do you remember the accident, or are you going along with what others have told you happened?”

My mind races as I try to recall every detail since that terrifying moment when our car was smashed into by another vehicle. The screeching of tires and the blinding flash of headlights flood my memory. But what happened after that? It’s all a blur. “I’m not sure,” I admit hesitantly. “There’s a gap in my memory that I can’t seem to piece together.”

Mama’s hand, warm and reassuring, lands softly on my shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. I turn to her, feeling vulnerable and lost in this sterile hospital room.

“Do you remember the last time you were here before this accident?” Dr. Redmond asks gently.

I struggle to recall any memories of being in this place before—the familiar smells of antiseptic and the constant beeping and swishing of machines surrounding me. It’s all hazy, but slowly, a memory surfaces—my father’s worried face, my sense of guilt and sadness for causing it. “I remember being attacked,” I say quietly.

Dr. Redmond leans in, his voice lowered almost to a whisper. “Do you remember who attacked you?” His words are like sharp needles, piercing through my skin and stirring up emotions I tried to bury deep down.

The words escape me with a sigh as I answer the question. “My boyfriend,” I say through my gritted jaw.

“Do you remember his name?”

I let out a huff of frustration because, of course, everyone knows his name, but I have to say it anyway.“Beau.”

The doctor stands up and gestures for everyone to follow him outside. “Okay, Kerri, can you give Dr. Sparks and me a moment alone?”

I force a smile and nod, though inside, I feel like screaming. “That’s fine.”

“May I speak with your parents as well?” the doctor asks, his voice dripping with concern.

I roll my eyes and reply icily, “Be my guest.” At this point, it’s clear to everyone that my patience has run out.