Memory of Her

TWO

         

Fiancé, a man, engaged to be married. The word made me feel as though I had been roughly woken up from a nap I had expected to last only an hour but in reality, six years had passed. Oh, right...

I stared up at Elliot feeling terrible, "You're incredibly handsome. I feel like I would remember being engaged to someone who looked like you," I explain apologetically, "I'm sorry."

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Elliot looked to Aaron for answers, "She's known me for over five years. We've spent almost every day together."

Aaron's face hardens at Elliot's choice of words, "We discussed this previously with Zoë's parents," he starts to explain, "We knew there would be some effects from her being in a coma for over three months. Amnesia was at the top of that list. We're lucky that she's even awake."

"You also reassured us that the sooner she woke up, the more likely it would be that she would retain her memories. Except for maybe the night leading up to her accident!" Elliot argued losing his temper, "Clearly, that was just bullshit that Dr. Goldberg or one of the other real doctors had you rehearse to put our minds at ease."

"Mr. Charles," Aaron calmly exhales ready to defuse the situation, "I assure you everything we've ever discussed was completely honest. Yes, I did say that the sooner she woke up bettered the chances of her having her entire memory intact. Unfortunately, when it comes to brain injuries, we can never be sure the extent of the damage. We've had patients that wake-up hours after being admitted and can't recall their name. Then, there are others that are asleep for longer than Zoë has been and can remember what color shirt they wore on their fourth birthday."

"We've had patients?" Elliot scoffs, mocking Aaron's knowledge, "You're hardly a doctor. How many cases have you, actually handled during your residency here?"

"Excuse me?" Aaron utters as his professionalism slowly slips away, "I doubt you have the slightest idea of the type of work that is required to becoming a neurologist."

"I have a feeling I only know a little less than you do," Elliot shoots back with a smug look on his face, "Go get me, Dr. Goldberg. I don't want you anywhere near my fiancée from this point on."

"Elliot, get the hell out of my room" I shout shattering the tension between the two of them as I feel my head starting to pound.

"Zo," he softly says as they both stare at me surprised, "You can't be serious."

"I have no memory of you what so ever, Elliot," I explain as I hold my head, "For me, currently, this is the first time I'm meeting you and you're coming off as a real ass hat. Until my parents get here to help clear things up, I don't want you in this room or making any decisions for me."

"She can't do that, can she?" Elliot looks to Aaron who has a smirk that said he was pleased with me.

"Technically, you're not a relative," Aaron explains smugly, "You were only allowed in here because you're supposedly her fiancé. And it looks like she doesn't remember any of that, Mr. Charles."

"You've got to be kidding me," he rolls his eyes, "I want to talk to Dr. Goldberg, you're out of line."

"Elliot, get out!" I yell at him.

Aaron walks over to the door holding it open for Elliot, "You may talk to the people at Security if you're truly adamant on speaking to someone. Otherwise, how about you wait for Zoë's parents in the waiting room. That's only a seven-hour flight, right?"

As I watch Elliot storm out, the room starts to spin then fades to black.

In a crowded little coffeehouse, on the Upper West Side, I'm sitting at a small table which sits next to a window that faces the Hudson. A smile crosses my lips as I stare out at the river as white flakes dance down from the sky, matching the festive blinking snowflake-shaped lights which were suspended around the windows of the shop. My exposed fingers from my fingerless gloves hug the bright red oversized mug labeled "Mel's Coffee House" as the warmth from my coffee keeps the coffee cup and my fingers warm. I turn back to my laptop, returning to a photo that I had taken of a small girl running after her friends in a snow-covered Central Park. I take a long sip from my coffee as I place my headphones over my ears before continuing my work on my photos.