Recalling Reality

Chapter 37

The doctor walks in and instantly takes a seat on her stool. Pressing her lips together, she shakes her head, and her eyes soften. "The x-rays confirm the break. The good thing is that it's a clean break so we can cast it, and it should heal right up in six to eight weeks."

"No surgery?" Shane clears his throat and scoots up on the chair. "That's better than what the other quack was saying."

"Dr. Kingstone? He, unfortunately, was in the wrong room, with the wrong patient." She rolled her eyes and turned to the computer. "I will get your arm casted. But, I wanted to talk to you about the scan."

My heart begins to beat harder. Maybe there was something on it that could explain the memory loss. It won't help my situation with Shane, but it can help to resolve one thing.

"I do see something on the scan that shows there was some trauma. What kind? I don't really know, but where it's located is in the same area where you have had the trauma from the prior accident. So, that means, even if you tapped your head just right, it can cause some serious situations. And a slight memory loss can be one of the effects. So, is there, at any time, can you think of where you may have hit your head?"

I try to think of a time that I can recall, but I go from being in the hospital to waking up in the bedroom that I haven't been in for six months. When I look at Shane, he is lost in his thoughts. Right now, he doesn't need to be bothered with my problems. He has to find some way to bury his best friend after living with what his last words were.

"So, the injury, from what I can tell from the scan, it's recent, so this has happened in the past week. Nothing after that, is what I can estimate."

I nod, and reach for my throbbing arm. The shot of pain relief is wearing off, and the pain is beginning to intensify.

"We were at the park when she left." Shane's attention lifted and his eyes were glassed over. They met mine and, instantly, my heart is being gripped by my chest. "We took our daughter to the park, but Hannah was acting a little strange that whole day. When she left, I figured she was running..." he stops his sentence short, and the humiliation push forth, shading his cheeks a dark red. I knew what he wanted to say, but he held off.

"I woke up in our bed."

"But, you have not been in that bed for six months, Hannah. Why would you..."

"Because I had been lying to you. I was lying to you and I couldn't live with myself." I draw my bottom lip in to help stop the gush of heat that is building in my eyes. I was lying to him, but why? And I am not sure it was me having an affair. I admitted to sleeping with him, but I am seriously thinking that I am lying about doing so. But, why? Why would I tell him that I was having an affair when I wasn't? Why would I hurt him like that for nothing?

The doctor clears her throat and stands. "Do you know that you are lying, Hannah? Are you maybe recalling something?"

I pull my eyes away from the man who I know I am still in love with, and look at her. "No, I don't know. I just... I feel like I am, but I don't know why."

"Why would you lie to me about having an affair, Hannah?" Shane leans forward and jumps up from his chair. When he strides over to the door, he cups his hand over his mouth and stares at the houses across the street.

"For one thing," she moves over to me, and gently lifts my arm, positioning it to where she wants it. "When you suffer from a loss of memory, often when you have these feelings like something isn't right, nine out of ten times, it isn't right."

"How can I get my memory back so I can fix this?" I look over at my husband hoping that he could forgive me for this, for whatever happened. My heart still belongs to him, and that, I know for sure.

"It may and may not. No one can predict that, or see that on any scans. At least, we can confirm that something did happen." She pushed out a smile and made her way to the door. "I will be right back and we will get you casted up. Do not move that arm."

I take in a deep breath and turn my attention back to Shane. "Please, can we try to work this out?"

"You wanted me to leave, Hannah. You are the one who asked me to leave because you can't live with knowing what you did." He finally turns toward me, and the watery film is covering his eyes. "You have been... different since that parry we had for Quinn's birthday."

"What party?" My heart jumps hard as a flash of a large, roaring fire comes to my mind. Quinn always loved bonfires. There was something just so peaceful about them, he would always say. "I thought Quinn took his life."

"We still celebrate his birthday with a bonfire, something Ryan thought of doing. And it stuck, so that is what we have done for the past four years." He shoves his hands into his jean pockets and presses his lips together. "And each year, we would sit around that fire sharing stories about Quinn, talking to him as if he was sitting right there with us."

Tipping my head, I let the tears take over, and rain down my face. It was my fault my brother took his own life. If I hadn't chased after those witches, I never would have gotten in front of his car. And I am sure, if he was here today, I could tell him that I never held it against him. "Did I hate him... for... hitting me?"

What if the answer was yes? What would I do then? It's hard to find out that your own brother decided to take his life because of a stupid accident, but what I you were the reasoning he did because you didn't forgive him? What then?

The silence was hanging in the room. Finally, Shane releases the hold on his breath and he shook his head. "No, you never did. He did. He had a hard time dealing with the fact he nearly killed you."

"I remember him coming into my hospital room, and sitting with me."

His brows shot up and he shook his head again. "Quinn never came to the hospital. He was too scared to."

My mouth dried and the air sizzled on its way out of my lungs. Quinn was there. He was, and I can remember his visiting. He slept in the chair, he stayed when Mom had to work, and he called me... Nanner?

Quinn has never called me Nanner in my whole life. In fact, he called me something else that he's never called me before. Something wasn't right with the situation. I strictly remember him being there, in the hospital, sleeping in the chair a few times, staying for Mom when she couldn't be there. How can I misconstrue that?

"Hannah?" Shane's voice pulls me from the thoughts, and my heart aches a hundred times more for him. I wasn't this confused this morning, but now, I am wondering if something else is wrong with me other than having a little bit of brain trauma.

My eyes fill with tears, and he is becoming quite blurry. "I need help."