His Return

4. A Code Burt and A Cold Shoulder

"Michael Hastings." Sam mutters, scrolling through the electronic chart. "Went in for some headaches, had a temporal tumor removed, no complications but upon waking up he was diagnosed with retrograde amnesia."

"Where?" I ask, my voice hoarse from crying. "Washington?" The name of the state leaves a The terrible taste on my mouth. That was where he went when he left... Washington with... with her.

"No," Sam sighs, holding the tablet out for me. "Atlanta. He had no emergency contact when he came in but woke up looking for his wife." Sam motions to the tablet now in my hands. "Surgery was done by a Kennith Jamison. I've looked him up, I even called his practice -" He sits down in the office chair, propping his feet up on the desk just next to his wedding picture with Maddie. "He's not lying about the memory loss, Kate."

"How did he end up in the hospital here?" I question, scrolling for the answer. "He was hit?"

"By Old Lady McEwan." Sam chuckles slightly, leaning the chai back. "She thought her vision was getting better this morning."

My neighbor is the oldest person in our little town. A grandmother to everyone, but she's blind as a bat and stubborn to her very core. Meaning she goes out driving every now and then.

"He's lucky she didn't kill him." I mutter reading through Sam's notes. A concussion, bruised ribs, mild road rash on various points of skin.

"Kate," Sam suddenly becomes serious. "will this be a legal issue for McEwan?"

"I-I don't know."

A moment later, before Sam can respond, the alert system rings through the floor- "Code Burt in room 306. Code Burt in room 306." The system repeats over and over, signaling an aggressive patient.

Sam and I both jump, running out of his office and down the hall to where Micheal is.

"I thought you said the sedative would give me a couple hours." Anxiety builds in my gut, I still don't know what to do or say.

"I gave him the maximum legal dose, Kate." Sam growls, running ahead of me. "He shouldn't be awake." He looks me dead in the eye before entering the room while I try to catch my breath and organize my racing thoughts. "Where's my wife?" Michael's words are laced with anger. "Where's Kate?" My stomach clenches as my name rolls off his lips.

"You don't have a wife." Sam replies, the retaliating anger evident. "Kate, your ex-wife, left, her children-"

There's suddenly a loud thump. "They are my children too." Micheals voice shakes with refreshed fury.

"Micheal." I'm suddenly in the room. Sam is pinned against the wall not looking the least hit threatened. He knows just was well as I do, if Michael hits him, it's the end, nightmare over. "Let Sam go."

"Kate." Michael breathes my name, his fingers uncurling from Sam's lab coat. "Please," He begs. "Talk to me! He told me you left."

"I was leaving," I lie, glancing at Sam before walking further into the room. "But... Do you really not remember anything?"

"You don't believe me?" He asks incredulously, stepping away from Sam. "What happened to us, Kate?" His eyes search mine as he steps forward. "Why the cold shoulder? When did you stop loving me?"

"You left Michael." My voice shakes, the dam that's holding back the mix of anger and sadness starts to splinter. "One night you just didn't come home!" Gradually, my voice grows louder until I'm practically yelling.

"I had to!" He yells back at me, gripping my shoulders forcefully, his heat burning through the navy scrub top. "I-" The fire that was just there suddenly evaporates. "I'm sure I had a reason."

"You found him?" I ask the sullen looking private investigator. The short, balding man looks me up and down before handing me the check a wrote last month. My heart clenches.

"I did find him." Peter the P.I., as his card says, tells me. "It doesn't feel right though, taking money for a pregnant woman," He motions to my stomach that's in the sixth month of growth. "Not when I'm also giving her these." He hands me a manila envelope, which I greedily rip open, not prepared to see what's inside.

Pictures.

Pictures of a voluptuous blonde goddess and my husband in every imaginable intimate position. They look like life long lovers. Suddenly my heart drops to my toes while my stomach makes it's way up, bile burning the back of my throat.

"He's in Washington, where she lives, he's started a job at a school there."

The amount of pity in the man's brown eyes breaks me from my nightmare mantra. This is real.

"I'm sure you had a reason, it's just not good enough." I can't explain why I didn't throw the other woman in Michael's face but for some reason I decided not to bring her up.

"Even if it was to keep you safe?"

Pure anger starts to pour through that splintered dam.

"Kate," A young nursing student enters the room, cutting off my response. "Your daughter, Sofia, is in the ER, she-"

And I'm running again. Sam, like minutes earlier runs past me, making it to the stairwell before I do. My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the squeaking of my sneakers as I race down two flights of stairs.

Please, God.

Sam makes it to the makeshift patient room before I do, reappearing seconds later.

"She's okay. She's fine." He huffs, pulling back the blue curtain, catching his breath as my run shows to a jog. "Ankle sprain."

"Sofia!" I run to my daughter who has an ice wrap around her ankle. "Are you okay? What happened?" I brush the chestnut baby hairs that have fallen from her scrunchy off her forehead, inspecting her body for any more damage.

"I didn't stick the landing." She frowns, picking at the fabric of her lavender leggings. "The doctor that wrapped me said I can't dance for a couple weeks!" The frustration in her voice is evident as she throws her hands in the air with a huff. "If Ashley Mi gets the part of Odette all because I pulled a muscle, I'm..." My daughter's sentence suddenly trails off, her face turning sickly pale and her entire body starting to tremble.

"Dad?"

***