You are Mine

Three

At the stroke of midnight, Jessica entered the back door of the hospital. As a nurse, she was given a key. She'd learned that there was only one doctor and one nurse who worked the late shift, so as long as she stayed away from them, she'd be fine.

She tiptoed down the corridor toward the large room. For tonight's visit, she had changed her clothes into a darker color, mainly because she couldn't get noticed or caught. That wouldn't do well for her reputation as a nurse, and if she got fired... Her heart sank. She couldn't return home, so the only other option she had was to return back to Harrow School of Nursing and beg Nurse Clara to send her somewhere else.

But she wouldn't think of that now. She'd focus on her task at hand, and pray nothing bad would happen.

At the door to the large room, she paused with her hand on the doorknob. She listened for any sounds, especially footsteps. So far, the only steps she heard were her own.

Cautiously, she opened the door and peeked inside. The room was dark, but the full moon had shone through the curtains on the windows, giving her a sliver of light in order to find Wyatt's bed. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and slowly moved to his bed.

The room was quiet, expect for the occasional snore from the patients that broke the silence. She stopped and Wyatt's bed and knelt beside it, laying her hand on his arm. From the rhythm of his chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm, he was asleep. Gently, she shook him, but he continued to slumber.

Frowning, she tried to think of something else to do to wake him, but then she didn't want to startle him too much for fear of waking the others in the room. She leaned closer to his ear. "Wyatt? Wake up."

She gently shook him again. This time, she noticed the different rhythm of his breathing. Thankfully, it was working. "Wyatt, it's me, Nurse Simone," she continued in soft tones.

His body jerked and his hand shot out, meeting with her shoulder. He patted her arm as if trying to familiarize himself.

"Nurse Simone?"

"Shhh..." She took hold of his hand, stopping its exploration. "We cannot wake the others."

"What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"It's almost midnight, but I had to come and talk to you." Her heart wrenched. She prayed he would remember – or at least be the man she thought he was. "Tell me truthfully. It's only you and I."

"Truthfully? Why would you think I wasn't being honest?"

"Please, I need to know if you really cannot remember," she pleaded earnestly.

"It's true. I don't remember anything."

Her chest tightened again. "You don't remember a woman named Jessica from before the war?"

"No."

Desperation wrenched her chest tighter. He would have to know his parents' names. "What about Henry and Martha Ryker?"

"I'm sorry, I don't remember."

She wanted to cry... or bawl like a baby. But she wouldn't. She'd try all she could to help him remember their lives together, especially how much they had deeply they had loved. This family needed to know he was alive, too. She wasn't just doing this for herself.

Jessica took hold of his hand and gently caressed it. "Wyatt, I'm a nurse and I'm going to help you remember."

"Are you certain I'm this man? Why doesn't that name sound familiar to me?"