When I Forgot Him, He Regretted Losing Me.

My fiancé, Adrian Blackwood, was unconscious for 7 days after the car accident. When he woke up, he remembered Vivian Caldwell, the woman he'd loved before me. I'd been keeping watch in his private hospital room in Bellhaven. The instant I saw his fingers twitch, I bent over him. For 7 days, I'd been afraid even to say his name too loudly. I didn't hesitate. I took his hand, desperate for him to look at me. "Where's Vivian?" He frowned. "Why are you here?" I froze. "Adrian, it's me..." He pulled his hand away. "Nothing I promised you while I had amnesia counts. Nora Hayes, we're over." I didn't move. For a moment, I had no idea what to say. Maybe he'd only just woken up and was still confused. I was about to get a doctor when the door opened and Vivian walked in with his friends. She rushed to his side and threw her arms around him, tearfully scolding him for frightening her. He wiped away her tears and soothed her in a gentle voice. "I'm sorry, baby. I've put you through so much these past 2 years." That was the same tone he used to comfort me whenever I was hurt. I waited beside the bed, hoping he'd notice that I hadn't changed clothes in 7 days and ask if I was exhausted. But he never let go of Vivian's hand. I stepped out into the hall alone. His friend Miles Carter couldn't help speaking up. "Nora barely left the hospital. And the thing you were going to give her before the accident—" "Don't bring it up. I'll compensate her. From now on, I'll look after her like a sister." My hand was still on the door. At those words, it slowly slipped away. Only a week ago, he had introduced me to the board as his fiancée. Before he was hospitalized, he had even measured my ring finger with a ribbon. "Once I put a ring on this finger, you're never allowed to take it off." I had laughed and agreed, certain I would be happy for the rest of my life. 2 years earlier, Vivian had left him for the heir to a prestigious gallery in Bellacourt. Adrian had raced after her to the airport and crashed on the way. When he woke, he'd forgotten her and temporarily lost the ability to walk. I was the one who stayed with him through the worst of it. When he smashed things, I picked up the pieces. When he refused physical therapy, I stayed beside him as he began again, over and over. 9 months later, he walked up to me without crutches and held me as he cried. "Nora, what would I ever do without you?" 6 months ago, Vivian had returned begging to reconcile after the other man abandoned her. Adrian had asked her to leave, right in front of me. How could all those words and embraces suddenly mean nothing? Laughter drifted out of the hospital room. "Now that he has his memory back, of course he'll marry Vivian. With a family like hers, she's the one who's worthy of him." "The foundation paid for Nora's graduate studies, didn't it? She got something out of taking care of him too." I stopped and waited for Adrian to say something. After a brief silence, he asked Vivian what she wanted to eat. Outside the hospital, I called my former adviser, Professor Henry Ward. "Is that trial you mentioned—the one that can make people forget painful memories—still accepting volunteers?" The professor was silent for a long time. "N-17 is still experimental. Once the treatment is complete, you may lose those memories forever." "I know." Yet after I said it, I still looked back at the hospital doors. No one came after me. Professor Ward had supervised me in graduate school. When I gave up a doctorate to become Adrian's assistant, he had tried to talk me out of it. I had left my research half-finished, and he and his colleagues had carried it on. When they later sent me the published paper, I saw that they had kept my name on it. I had been too ashamed to call and thank him. At the research center, he looked over my test results and sighed. I was about to sign the consent form when my phone chimed. A calendar reminder appeared: 7:00 p.m. tomorrow—Lighthouse Restaurant. Adrian had promised me a surprise. I stared at the words, my pen hovering above the paper. "Professor, I'd like to wait one more day." I couldn't meet his eyes as I spoke. The following evening, I went to the restaurant. The terrace was covered in white roses, and cards handwritten by Adrian hung beneath the lights. Beside a strawberry cake lay a diamond ring. "Mr. Blackwood spent 2 weeks arranging this," the manager said as he pulled out my chair. "He said you'd love it." It was our second anniversary. I opened the ring box and stared at the ring, unable to stop myself from hoping he'd arrive soon. He'd put so much thought into this. Surely some part of him would still have a hard time letting me go. Laughter sounded outside the door. "Here's to your recovery—and to being single again!" Vivian wheeled Adrian inside. When he saw me, he frowned. Before he could speak, I held out the ring box. "You set all this up for me. Do you remember?" "I know." I looked up, but he gently brushed my hand aside. He took the box and closed the lid. "Forget it, Nora. I'll make it up to you." Vivian said, "When you propose to me, it had better be at least as good as this." Adrian assured her it would be, then told the manager to clear away the flowers. As a server removed the cake, he gave me an awkward look. I hurried to my feet so I wouldn't be in his way. Out on the street, I grabbed the lamppost for support and sank to the ground. I finally broke down, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. I'd waited one more day for this—just to hear him tell me again that he didn't want me. That night, I returned to the research center, signed the consent form, and took the experimental medication for the first time.