Forget Me Not

Chapter 8

Emma was the one to wrench away from him, turning to face Flo so quickly she could've sworn she'd caught whiplash.

It was the indefinable expression on Flo's face that made her breath catch. She wasn't a master at reading facial expressions, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that Flo wasn't happy.

Not at all.

The expectant pause on Flo's end made Emma realise that the other woman was still waiting for a reasonable explanation. She swallowed nervously – really, there wasn't anything to be nervous about because, technically, she hadn't done anything wrong. Flo had some way or other influenced Dylan's thinking, made him believe something that no longer existed in the first place. Logically, in any other circumstance, Flo was the other woman.

So why did it feel like the tables had turned – Emma was the other woman; and now she had some explaining to do?

"I was just – " Emma looked briefly at Dylan, frowning slightly when she realised that he still looked dazed. Confused – as he gripped his cup of coffee tightly and stared far too intently at Flo. Clearly, he wasn't going to be saying anything, so Emma made a snap decision and decided to be truthful this time round. "I was just telling him about myself."

"Really?" Flo lips tilted up in an almost tight smile that seemed almost calculative in nature. "Seems like you were telling him quite a lot."

Emma held her ground. Shrugged, like Flo's words didn't mean a single damn thing to her. "He wanted to know."

"I did," Dylan said, unexpectedly. His eyes were flitting between her and Flo now, the expression on his face just as shrewd as Flo's, if not more so. Emma wasn't surprised. He'd always been analytical, but his impulsiveness could get the better of him sometimes, occasionally with disastrous results.

Flo turned to him now, her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I wanted to know more about her."

Dylan's answer took her so completely by surprise that it was all Flo could do was to stand there gaping at him, rendered entirely speechless for the first time since Emma had met her. She made an odd noise of disbelief and, after what seemed like forever, finally managed to say something coherent. "What're you even going on about?"

Dylan opened his mouth to reply, but was promptly cut off when a doctor strode by. Emma hadn't ever seen this woman before, but she figured that Dylan probably knew her from his stay in the hospital given the way he nodded cordially at her.

"Mr Torres," the doctor smiled politely at the group, before staring down at her clipboard. "If you're done here, maybe you'd like to step into Dr Han's office. He has some new results from the blood test we did on you the other day – nothing serious, of course; but it may interest you to know the current status of your recovery."

"Sure," Dylan sounded almost reluctant, and Emma faltered when he shot a glance her way before looking at the doctor. "Third floor, right?"

"Yes," the doctor returned, before hurriedly glancing down at a device in her hand when it began to beep. She threw them an apologetic look before stepping away. "Excuse me."

Emma watched the doctor leave, a thoughtful expression on her face. Dylan's current status of his recovery – that had to be a good thing, right? That had to mean that someday – not today, definitely, but someday – he'd be able to remember her.

She turned back when she heard Dylan's wheelchair shift slightly. " – it's fine," he was saying, when Flo reached down to help him. And his posture was almost rigid, frozen when she laid a hand on his shoulder. "I can get there on my own."