The Forgotten Wife

2. Lawyers...Enough Said

Meilani 

He doesn't remember me.

He doesn't remember any of our relationship or everything we went through. The best and worst moments of my life happened with him and he doesn't even know my name anymore.

That asshole! How dare he forget me!

Why does he get to forget all the heartache while I am consumed with pain?

God! This is all his fault, he did this, he ruined us and now he just gets to forget it all, how is that fair?

I can barely see straight I'm so mad. Why can't I suffer a traumatic brain injury and forget everything? It would solve so many of my problems right now.

I stop my agitated pacing as I think about the implications of Aiden's condition, it really could solve my problems.

He doesn't remember, I think victoriously. If Aiden doesn't remember, then it's likely he still considers himself an eternal playboy. I bet he hates the idea of being married.

I can finally get my divorce.

I'm off like a shot, I do my best to hurry down the wide corridor in my heels and tight dress. They are uncomfortable but I had a business meeting this morning and my clients expect it.

I avoid looking at the other people too closely, hospitals are a place of sadness and I always wonder what tragedy has happened to them. I hate hospitals, they have a sterile smell of disinfectant that is never successful in completely covering the combined smells of the sick and dying.

I push the elevator button and tap my shoe impatiently as I wait for the number to tick up to my floor.

Ping!

The doors slide open slowly and I rush in barely managing to avoid bowling over an elderly woman. I give her a quick apology and slam my finger into the button for the underground parking level.

I brush my finger through my long hair for something to do as I wait. The elevator stops on an annoying number of floors to let people on and off. I get a few annoyed looks for my tapping foot and I offer a small smile in apology. Most people ignore me, I guess anxious people are not uncommon at a hospital.

The metal door slides open and I rush out into the artificially lit parking lot. I turn left and start counting off the rows in my head until I reach the one I parked in. I spot my silver car and rummage in my handbag for the keys. I only have a few things in there and I manage to scoop them up and click the unlock button before I reach the car.

I open the rear right door and slide my briefcase across the backseat towards me. I pop the lock and scoop out the divorce papers my lawyer drew up for me. I fold the document in half and tuck it into my handbag.

I make quick work of locking up the car and making my way back to Aiden's private room. I find him hunched over forward intently punching numbers into his phone.

"Damn it!" he curses under his breath.

"Thirteen. Zero. Five," I tell him when I realise he's trying to guess his passcode.

He looks up at me stunned before tapping in the numbers. "Is it your birthday or something?" he guesses annoyed.

"Our wedding anniversary," I explain.

I watch him try to hide a grimace when I mention the word 'wedding.' I smother a small smile when I realise I was right. He doesn't want to be married any more than I do.