Chapter 22.

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ROSALIE.

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"The moon sent you to me."

"SHE'S unresponsive!" A panicked voice yelled through the chaos. I could feel people shuffling around, the strong antiseptic lingering in the air, my arm aching and bandaged by something. It was all dark, I felt my heavy body trying to wake up. And suddenly, I managed to open my eyes, closing them immediately when a light blinded me.

A sigh of relief echoed, "She's conscious, we have her." I could recognize the female's voice, it was one of my co-workers, her hands giving tiny slaps on my cheek. "Come on, Rosalie. Open your eyes, don't close them."

I followed her instructions and forced them open, letting my sight focus on my surroundings. "Thank God, you gave us a heart attack." She sighed in relief once again, now her face getting to my sight. "..What happened?" I croaked out, slowly propping myself up. "You passed out while getting to your quarters, I don't know for how long you've been left there on the ground."

I blinked slowly, my head was pounding like never before, my eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance due to the ache. My heart was racing, it was almost hard to breathe at that moment. Then, like a lightning bolt, the strange dreams came back to me. Why the fuck had I dreamed of my lieutenant? But above all, why was he my husband? Why had I dreamed of being pregnant?

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought, my face scrunching in confusion. It couldn't fucking be real. I refused to believe.

"What time is it?" I asked, running a hand through my hair, trying to fit in the random fragments of the crazy dream.

"It's four in the morning."

Six hours. I was out for. Six. Damn. Hours.

I had finished my shift shortly after dinner, I was feeling tired but I hadn't expected to faint suddenly. I had to take my pills. "I just had the craziest dream.." I confessed to her, leaning my back against the stack of pillows.

The doctor had said that the blackouts and migraines were more frequent in the first few months after the accident--he hadn't talked about the aftermath, it had been two fucking years since that hell. He had prescribed me some medicine that would've helped with this pain, he had warned me that the memories would've never returned, and so I was left convinced that everything I dreamed was just a dream, a fiction that my mind created.

Even though I had studied this in previous years at university, I had not considered the possibility that he might have been telling a lie.

"Yeah? How crazy?" Samantha asked me, curiosity lacing her tone as she took a seat on the chair next to my bed. "Eventually, Lieutenant Riley was my husband and I was pregnant with his baby."

Her eyes widened, her lips parted slightly, "Woah, that's surely.. strange."

Yet I remembered when he told me about his wife. He had no pictures of her hanging in his house, no object that referred to a previous female presence. The only memory he kept was a simple dogtag with a rose and some ruined initials.

My heart ached, butterflies exploded in my abdomen.

Dogtags. Roses. Wife. Miscarriage.

My breath suddenly ran out of me, I became agitated, and Samantha noticed. Panicking, she placed a hand on my arm, searching me with her eyes. "Rosalie-- hey, what's going on? Are you okay?"

My vision blurred, my heart pounding in my ears and slamming against my chest. It couldn't be true. It wasn't true. It was just coincidences. All coincidences. I kept denying, I kept praying that it wasn't the way I was thinking right now. It wasn't possible. Please, no.

A tear ran down my face, I continued shaking my head, making Samantha panic even more. 

Roses. I hated them, right? I was allergic to them. As soon as I always got close to them, my head throbbed and my heart tightened. But it wasn't really an allergy, it was something else entirely. They were a memory that my mind was trying to force in, because I had previously been surrounded by them. Because Simon knew I loved them, and he always made sure to buy them.

He knew. He always knew.

"P-Please.. pass me my phone." I croaked out, despite the lump in my throat. She was so quick on her feet, passing me the phone that rested over the other side of the room. Fuck, this wasn't something I could ignore. It was my past life, the life I had created and that had been erased from my mind.

I typed in those familiar numbers and held the phone to my ear, eagerly listening for the rings. "My beautiful Rosalie! It was finally time! We miss you so-"

To hell with my mother and her fake sweetness, her fake worries. "Does Simon Riley ring a bell to you?" I bit back harshly, my hands shaking as I suppressed my panic and anger. 

Silence fell over the line, a few seconds passed. "Rosalie," She answered me, cautious and stern. "Don't tell me they transferred you to.. his base..?" I wanted to yell at her, I could tell from her tone that this was a dangerous topic.

"Yes. I'm working in his Task Force." I answered sternly, letting more tears stream down my face, "You fucking lied to me!"

"Rosalie, have you been taking the medications?"

"Fuck, no! I am so caught up to work that I missed my days--but that is not what I want to hear from you right now." I raised my voice, alerting Samantha, who stood there in shock with wide eyes. Slowly, she disappeared from the corner of my eye and gave me some privacy.

"Why are you doing this to me..?" I finally let out a small sob, "I know you always disliked the military, but bringing me away from my husband? Am I a fucking child you can just move around?"

I could hear her breathing becoming labored, little sobs escaping her. "I-- we just wanted to protect you.. he was risking your health, you couldn't be around anyone else if not us without collapsing from the intense migraines.. please, Rosalie."

"He was the biggest problem, you were suffering a lot. Your head.. was forcing too much to take in the memories, we had to move you away to let your recover, away from him and your life."

Unbelievable.

"That's not true.. that's not true.." I repeated like a mantra as I cried, clutching my phone tightly. "He IS my husband! I was even pregnant  and all of you kept it away from me!" I felt like throwing up, whatever I was feeling was just too intense to handle.

"Please, Rosalie. Come back home, we can talk about it, I can start by showing you the old album--everything's here, even your wedding ring-"

I had enough of her bullshit. I ended the call and dropped the phone on the bed, my body shaking uncontrollably. 

I didn't care if I was weak right now. I stood up, ripped the IV out of my arm, and put on my shoes, running out of the room. I ran down the halls, bumping into soldiers and nurses as they passed, sending me confused looks. 

In that moment, I just needed to see him. I needed to be put on the next helicopter and help my team, but most of all, I needed to be close to him.

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