Page 50 of Your Love

Desperately trying to distract myself, I take a few more sips of water and halfheartedly tune into the familiar sound of Dr. Doogie Howser’s voice on the television. But even his cherubic cheeks and obscure medical knowledge can’t hold my attention for long. Thankfully, the group returns after what feels like an eternity. Mama and Daddy hover at the foot of my bed while Dr. Redmond takes center stage once again.

“I think I have an idea of what’s happening. It seems your brain is confusing two separate traumatic events that you experienced in the last couple of years,” he gently explains, his voice low and soothing. “I don’t mean to upset you, but you have to listen and understand that this will get better.”

I chew on my thumbnail nervously. How could my brain be playing tricks on me?

“From what your parents have shared with me, it appears that you were in an abusive relationship two years ago. Your boyfriend, a man named Beau, physically assaulted you to the point where you had to be hospitalized.” The sound of my mother’s quiet sobs next to me solidifies the gravity of his words. “You dated him for a few years.”

“I know all this. I don’t know why we’re going through my backstory,” I snip.

“Listen to the doctor, Kerri,” my father says gently.

I try to focus on his words, but my memories are foggy and fragmented.

“Do you remember moving to a different town with your grandparents after Beau put you in the hospital?” he asks.

I furrow my brow, trying desperately to recall anything from that time. But it feels like trying to grab at smoke—every time I think I have a memory, it slips away.

“I...can’t quite get a clear picture,” I admit, frustration creeping into my voice.

“That’s not uncommon after a brain injury,” Dr. Redmond explains calmly. “But the reality is that you’ve been living with your grandparents for quite some time now. You even completed your first year of college.”

A wave of nausea rolls through me. How much time have I lost? I cling to Mama’s hand, grateful for her grounding presence as panic threatens to overwhelm me.

This time, it’s Daddy who speaks. “During the time you’ve lived in Merrimack, you’ve made some pretty great friends,” he says. “You started dating someone new.”

My head shakes immediately. “I wouldn’t start dating,” I argue. “I’m not ready. I’ve sworn off relationships.”

“That was true at first,” Mama interjects. “But you and he became very good friends and eventually started seeing one another.”

Before I can fully process what she’s saying, Dr. Redmond speaks. “I’m told that is the man who came to see you today.”

My trembling hands instinctively fly to my face, covering it as if to block out the words being spoken.

“Maybe we should take a break?” My father’s concerned voice breaks through the chaos in my head. “We can talk about this later.”

“No,” I plead, my voice desperate and shaky. “I want to hear this. All of it. Please, keep going.”

Daddy nods, his face lined with worry as he tries to fill in some details. “His name is Christian Landry, your boyfriend of several months. You’ve talked all about him to us, and you seem to care for him deeply. Your grandparents are very fond of him.”

Dr. Sparks interjects. “It appears that, for some reason, your brain has convinced itself that he’s the one responsible for putting you in the hospital. But that’s not true.”

My frustration and confusion boil over as I exclaim, “I don’t understand why I can’t remember any of this!” My mind feels like it’s drowning in a sea of missing memories and false beliefs.

“Your brain is still recovering from everything that it’s been through, and your memories will start to come back.”

How long would that take? I want to scream, but instead, I ask weakly, “How long?”

He hesitates before answering, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “That’s the hard part,” he admits with a sigh. “It could be tomorrow, or it could be several weeks or even months.”

I can’t hold back my reaction any longer. The tears come pouring down my face, wracking my body with tremors. It hurts physically and emotionally, knowing that I’m missing chunks of my own life. Not just memories but people, too. I have a boyfriend I don’t even remember. Friends I don’t remember. I’ve created an entire life—and I can’t recall any of it.

My father’s voice, warm and comforting, surrounds me as he leans in to kiss the top of my head. “It’s going to be okay,” he reassures me. “We’re here to help you. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

I desperately want to believe him. Daddy has never told me a lie, so I know in his heart he believes it. But what if I never get better? What if I never remember?

“What about this other guy who was here? My…boyfriend,” I ask.

My mom’s gentle voice joins in, her tone soothing like a lullaby. “Landry.”