Our Kind of Forever

Chapter 23

I drop my phone on the cement, and suddenly, I am finding it hard to breathe. I slide down on to the pavement just as Winnie looks up at me, her ears perked and alert. Immediately, she starts licking my face. She puts her paws on my chest to provide pressure to create a calming effect. Maddie, who watches me, grabs benzodiazepines, a type of medication that affects the messenger chemical (neurotransmitter) gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA). The drugs have a relaxing, sedative effect that works to relieve anxiety and shoves them in my hands.

"Millie, breathe for me," Maddie says as she crouches down to my eye level. I am hyperventilating, and I hear Maddie's voice again. "Millie! You need to breathe!"

"What is happening?" asks Allie, who is in shock.

"Millie's having a panic attack!"

"What?" Allie says, her eyes widen. "How long ago was she diagnosed with anxiety?"

"Almost two years ago," Maddie replies as she focuses her attention on me.

I take the Benzodiazepines and put them in my mouth. Maddie then hands me a water bottle, and I drink it, allowing the pills to go down. My heart started to slow down, and I pet Winnie. I look up at Allie, who is staring at me.

"Al—"

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me that you have anxiety?" Allie interrupts.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you," I say, standing up. "You were busy with your cancer, and I didn't want to tell anyone. I was worried about how people—fans, co-workers, family and friends—would treat me. I was afraid that they would treat me like I was going to break at any moment."

"I told you," Allie says, crossing her arms. I look at Allie in shame. I brace myself for her lecture. Instead, I am astounded at what she says. "I am here for you, the good and the bad. I told you that when you announced you were moving to L.A."

"I know, and I am sorry for not telling you."

"I forgive you," Allie says. "But, tell me next time?"

I nod my head and assure her that I would. "Millie, we have to go," Maddie says after a while. I turn to her with confusion. "Why?"

"You need to go to London," Maddie says, looping her arm through mine.

I rush into Ashworth Hospital in London with my arm in a sling and Winnie beside me. "Hi," I say, panting slightly, once I reach the receptionist. "I got a call regarding Noah Eaton?"

"Name and relation?" the lady asks in a posh British accent.

"Millie Greyson. I'm his wife." The lady looks up, and once she sees me, her jaw drops.

"You're the Millie Greyson," she says, gasping slightly. I groan inside. "Can I have your autograph?"

"Um," I say, trying to be polite. "Can you tell me where my husband is?"

"Oh," the lady says, shaking his head. "Of course. He is in room 58, floor 12."

"Thank you," I say before running off to the elevators. I push the button and frantically wait for the doors to open. I look behind me to see people staring at me and whispering to each other. Great. I'm going to be on the front page tomorrow.

Once the doors open, I step inside and punch the button that leads up to the twelve levels.

I walk along the hallways, muttering 58 over and over again before coming across the room. I take a deep breath before entering the room. Noah, who is asleep, is hooked up to different machines and tubes. My eyes tear up once I see his face. His eyes are dark, and his leg is elevated and in a cast. He has a few scratches here and there on his arms and face, and his wrist is in a splint.

"Noah," I say softly to myself as I make my way over to his bed. I place myself in a chair and take my hand and hold his. Just then, a doctor comes in with a binder. He looks up and is taken back once he sees me. "Excuse me?" he says as he takes a step closer. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

"Sorry," I say, standing up, holding out my hand. "I'm Millie Greyson, Noah's wife."

"Ah, okay," he says, nodding his head as he shakes my hand. "Well, Ms. Greyson, I am Dr. Charles Brown. I've been taking care of your husband."

"Thank you."

I sit back down and look at Noah. "What are his injuries?"

"He has a broken leg and a fractured wrist," replies Dr. Brown, who looks over at his chart.

"What happened?" I ask.

"He fell off a motorcycle that was going at a hundred and ten miles per hour while he was filming a scene," he explains, closing the binder.

I shake my head at Noah's stupidity. "Was he at least protected?"

He shakes his head. "He was wearing a leather jacket, but that was it."

"I am going to talk with him when he wakes up."

"Which should be now," Dr. Brown says as he checks his watch. Noah then opens his eyes, and he looks around the room. Once his eyes land on mine, he asks a question. "Who's this?"

"Noah," I say, looking at him. Dr. Brown lifts his head and walks over to him. He studies Noah's face and dashes out of the room. "It's me. It's Millie, your wife."

"I don't have a wife," Noah says, looking at me.

"Stop it, Noah. This is not funny," I say, my voice breaking slightly. Dr. Brown comes back in with two nurses.

"Ms. Greyson," he says. "We're going to need to take your husband for some tests. Will you be okay to wait?" I nod my head and sit back down just as they wheel Noah out of the room. Winnie whines softly, and I pet her.

Dr. Brown returns minutes later with Noah in tow, and his face is grim. "I am so sorry to inform you that Noah has amnesia."

"What does that mean?" I ask, standing up.

"It means that he doesn't remember the last six years of his life."

"We got married two years ago," I say. "So will Noah remember us dating?"

"Most likely," he replies. "When he landed on the ground, the impact hit the hippocampus part of his brain. Hippocampus is where his memory is."

"Is this permanent?"

"I don't believe so," Dr. Brown says. "I think it's only temporary, but we don't know until he wakes up."

I look over at Noah, who is asleep. Please, wake up, Noah.