The Lost Wife

Chapter 2

                I stare at Cidya, mouth open, unable to even respond. I shake my head slightly left to right, no, that isn’t true. Who is this man and why is he trying to pass himself off as my husband? She takes another breath, looking at me with eyes full of sympathy, “Anna. I am sure…”

                “No, I promise, we will take care of it.” A new man walks in with the mystery man calling himself my husband. I feel my heart start to pound in my chest with the mystery man close, I focus on the other man instead, forcing myself to pretend the impostor is not present. The small man walks to the foot of my bed and picks up the chart hanging from the hook there. He is a shorter man, can’t be taller than five and a half feet. He is thin and somewhat frail looking. He has a large thin pointed nose that is crooked to one side, it is endearing in a way. Atop his nose is a pair of rounded metal framed glasses set halfway down the length. His cheeks are sunken in a bit and there is a hint of gray five o’clock shadow present. He is bald on top of his head and the hair around the sides and back mimic the length and color of his incoming facial hair. His voice when he walked in was higher than expected but had a cool undertone to it that was intriguing. Unlike Cidya in clean smart scrubs, he is wearing slacks, dress shoes and a wrinkled white button-down collared shirt under a wrinkly lab coat. His lab coat is embroidered, Dr. R. Rinn. His look is completed with a black tie adorning his white shirt, his tie with an obvious white splatter on it. Though his clothes are traditionally more professional, the disheveled nature of his clothing give an uncomfortable feeling unkempt informality. “Hello Mrs. Breceda,” he says still flipping through the chart, not looking at me or making eye contact, “I am glad to see you are awake. We were worried for a moment there. This is a good sign.” At long last he closes the chart and looks up at me. When he does, I see that his eyes are a faded blue with a sadness behind them.

                “Um… No. I’m sorry. I think you all have me confused with someone else. My name is Annamaria Fuentes. Not Breceda.” I state shaking my head no.

                “Anna?” the imposter says, a questioning pain behind his words. Before he can say anymore Nurse Cidya turns and whispers to him, gesturing towards the door. He looks at her mouth agape, then nods and turns to leave the room, watching me over his shoulder. I watch them in my peripheral vision, refusing to look directly at him and instead keep my eyes locked on Dr. Rinn. “Hmmm… I am sure we will get that cleared up, but either way being awake is a good sign. You have been out for almost nine days. Do you remember anything that happened before you woke up here?” the doctor asks, an indifference in his voice.

                “No. I have no idea why or how I got here.” I say plainly, not trying to hide the increasing frustration I am feeling.

                “Okay. You were in an accident on your way to your anniversary party. According to your husband, Alfredo, you texted that you were running late and on your way. The police report states that it was raining, your car veered off the road into a wooded area where your car crashed into a tree deploying the air bags. The timeline put together estimates that you crashed sometime around 8:00 pm that Saturday night, and you and your car were not discovered in the search until early morning Monday. You were airlifted here Monday afternoon. Today is Tuesday of the following week. Do you understand everything I have told you so far?” He speaks in a very matter of fact way. I hear what he is saying, I understand all the words and the story, but that cannot be the truth.

                “The last thing I clearly remember is leaving work at the bookstore and going home. I am not married, that guy is not my husband. I have never seen him before. Please. You have to call the police or something. I don’t know why he is saying all this stuff about me, but I am not who he says I am.” I say, almost scream, as tears run down my face.

                “Okay, take a deep breath please.” Dr. Rinn says as he walks to the table behind the curtain, then hands me a box of tissues. “Let me go speak with your nurse and we will get this all cleared up.” He smiles, the first expressions I have see on his face since he walked in, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It is just a smile of convenience to leave the room without saying more.

                I am alone in my room now. The room is large, but in this moment, it feels like the room is crushing me, it is closing in on me and squeezing the air out so there is nothing left for me to breathe in. Why is he saying all these things about me? What is his motive? I need to find some way to escape him and this nightmare. Nine days… I have been out for nine days? Why hasn’t my roommate come to look for me? Why haven’t my parents noticed I am missing? My boss, my friends, anyone! Why is no one looking for me?

                I hear the door open and cautiously look to my left to see who is entering. To my relief it is Nurse Cidya. She walks in carrying a trey with food, pills and a sports drink. She places it on the table behind the curtain and pulls it out from behind the curtain, sliding it over the top of my lap. She smiles and walks around to the other side of my bed sitting in the chair near the window.

                “Okay my darling. I have spoken with the doctor. We need to run some tests on you, some scans and such. We are going to make sure that you are in tip top shape. I have brought you some pain pills to help with the overall achiness, and something for your anxiety. We don’t want to have another panic attack. As for Mr. Breceda, I have asked that he not be allowed into the room while we get all that sorted out. Good?” she smiles her infectious smile and I can’t help but feel calm and smile back. I nod. “Wonderful, now eat my love, I will come back and check on you in a bit.” She nods in encouragement, rises from the chair and leave, closing the door behind her.

                I am along in my room again, but this time it doesn’t feel like it is crashing in on me. I take a few bites of the food, then swallow the pills down. I look out the window and take a deep cleansing breath. I may not know the truth about how or why I came to be here, but at least there is one person who understand and believes me, and she seems intent on keeping me safe. I continue to look out the window as I slowly eat my food, it is bland, but my stomach is so empty that my tongue doesn’t care. I watch cars drive in and out the parking lot, people coming and going. It is a welcomed distraction.

ALFREDO:

                I am completely numb. Anna told the doctor her last name is Fuentes. Fuentes? She hasn’t been Fuentes for five years. What is going on? Is she still mad about the fight we had about the anniversary dinner? Is she mad about what I said to her? The nurse said she needs to speak to me in private and escorted me out here. She asked me not to go in again until she has a chance to come speak to me, but it has been some time and she still hasn’t come out again. I don’t know how long I can sit here. I have sat by my wife’s side day in and day out while she was unconscious, praying and waiting for her to wake up, now that she is awake I am being banished from the room. I need to be with my wife, I need to see that she is okay…

                “Mr. Breceda.” I look up and see the nurse standing in the doorway, she waves at me to follow her. I stand to follow her, but I can’t feel my feet beneath me. I am floating, a numb cloud being pushed through the world. The nurse leads me into a consultation room where the doctor and a woman I don’t recognized are seated, along with a police officer.

                “Mr. Breceda, thank you for waiting. Please have seat, we have a few things to discuss regarding Annamaria.” the unknown woman states. I take a seat in the chair opposite them and the nurse sits next to me, I look at her and she smiles encouragingly. I look back at the three people waiting to hear what is going on with my wife, my heart starting to bang against my sternum, trying to escape my chest as I anxiously await their first words.

                “Mr. Alfredo Breceda,” the police officer states more than question, “is that correct?” I nod. “And you claim that the woman being treated is Mrs. Annamaria Breceda, correct?” I nod. “Do you have any items currently on your person that would corroborate your identities?” I look at him dumfounded, is he serious right now?

                “Is this honestly what we are talking about? My wife has just woken up after being unconscious for over a week, knocking on deaths door, she is finally awake, and you are keeping her from me to discuss this?! How about the fact that the car she was driving is registered in both our names? Here is this” fishing my wallet out of my back pocket, “here is her license that I took from her purse when the police let me into the car in the impound lot, her name is Annamaria Breceda. Or here,” pulling a photo from my wallet, “here is a photo of the two of us on our honeymoon in Scotland five years ago. Here is my phone, look through the photos, I guarantee most of the photos there are of her or the two of us together, or our dogs. That woman is my wife and I insist on being permitted to see her now!” The police officer takes the items one by one as I had them and looks them over before passing them to the doctor and the unnamed woman. The woman handing them across to the nurse beside me who looks at them and then holds them politely waiting to return them to me.

                “Thank you, Mr. Breceda,” the officer says before leaving the room, closing the door behind them. The nurse hands me my items and I take them, realizing my hand is shaking with frustration. “Mr. Breceda,” the doctor says, breaks the silence, “this is Dr. Ezra, she is a neurologist here at the hospital. I have asked her to consult on this case with me. It appears that your wife has no recollection of who you are. She does not remember meeting you, let alone marrying you. When asked the last thing she remembers she stated it was leaving work at a bookstore and heading home.” I am at a loss for words. This cannot be real. This is not something that happens in real life… I just stare at them, lost.

                “Mr. Breceda,” Dr. Ezra now chimes in, “I want to run some test, take some scans and speak with your wife to better understand her state of mind right now. Do you have an idea of when she may be talking about? How long ago was it that she worked at the bookstore?” I continue to stare, my brain completely blank, the lights were left on but no one is home. “Mr. Breceda?” Dr. Ezra’s words pull me out of my cloud of confusion.

                “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” I’m finally able to mumble.

“Mr. Breceda, do you know how long ago your wife worked at a bookstore,” Dr. Ezra asserts.

                “The bookstore?” I struggle to processes her words. “She worked at a bookstore before knew each other. She quit working there when she started working at the bar. That is where we met. So, she quit working at the bookstore about eight years ago.” As the words leave my mouth I am still struggling to understand. Eight years. Eight years! She doesn’t remember the last eight years. Us working together, dating, getting married. Eight years. I am trapped within my own thoughts and can’t hear the others in the room talking. Eight years. Eight years…

                “Mr. Breceda?” Dr. Rinn calls, breaking me free from the maze in my mind I was attempting to navigate. I look up at him making eye contact. “Do you understand?”

                “I’m sorry, understand what?” I ask, not having heard anything being said.

                “Mr. Breceda, we think it is best if you do not visit your wife at this time. Give us a day or two to run tests and assess her mental and physical health. During this time, we think it would be a good idea to compile items that are meaningful to her and the two of you. Potentially remind her of the things from the time she has lost. Do you understand?”

                Leave my wife for a few days? I almost lost her and now they want to keep me from seeing her? I need to be near her, with her, helping her through this rough time. But what if it is hurting her health… Get things together that are meaningful to her and us. Our life summarized in knickknacks and photos? I take a deep breath, I have to do what I can to help her, I need her back. “I understand. I will give you the next two days, I will gather items and be back to see her. I am giving you this time, but I need my wife. I need to see her, and she needs me too. I expect to be allowed in her room when I return. Please call me if anything changes and I will come right back. Is there anything else you need from me now?” Both doctors shake their head no. I stand and leave.

                I make it all the way to my vehicle on unsure feet. I climb into the driver’s side door of my truck, close the door and allow the tears I have been fighting to fall. My wife doesn’t know who I am. She feared me. I didn’t see in the moment, but now looking back, she looked horrified when she looked at me. I caused her panic attack. My heart crumbles within my chest. The only person in my life I have ever needed doesn’t remember me, doesn’t know she is my wife, fears me. I continue to cry, I have never felt more alone and frightened in my life. I need her, I need her to remember.

                My phone rings in my back pocket and I panic trying to pull it out. What if it is the hospital, what if she needs me? I manage to free my phone and frantically look at the screen. It’s my father. I cannot talk to him right now; I am not prepared to talk to anyone yet. Only Anna. I need to talk to Anna.

                Pulling myself together I turn on the truck and drive home. I walk inside realizing that I do not remember the drive from the hospital at all. I am in such a daze that I don’t remember really anything since leaving the room in the hospital. The dogs come running up to me, so happy to see me, but I cannot bring myself to entertain them. I pet each one on the head and walk past them. They eagerly follow me to the kitchen, pushing each other, jumping on each other, playing and fighting for my attention. I pick up their bowls and walk to the pantry, serve them each a portion of food and set it down. I grab the water pitcher off the counter and fill it up at the sink, then walk to their water dishes filling them up. All these daily tasks we do without thinking now cause me nothing but pain. Nothing in this house feels right without Anna here.

                Climbing the stairs is a herculean task. My feet weigh hundreds of pounds. I fight to lift them one by one to reach the top of the stares. The photos lining the stairs, our smiling faces, so happy, our loving embracing, time spent together in love, each one a dagger stabbing me in the pile of crumbles that is my heart laying in the bottom of my chest. I reach the top of the stairs and cannot bring myself to enter the master bedroom. I haven’t been able to sleep in there since she went missing. I refuse to lay in that bed until the love of my life is lying beside me. With a deep sigh of sorrow, I walk to the guest room and open the door, walk in and collapse on the disheveled bed still messed from my sleeping there the night before. I don’t even have the energy to get undressed or remove my boots, I just hug the pillow and allow the emotions to fall from my eyes again. The tears fall hard, the emotions pour out, but no sense of relief is found. I grip the pillow tighter and continue to cry until sleep finally finds me.