Chapter 2
1492 Words
Angel’s pov
“Let’s give him some space.” The doctor’s voice sounded too calm, he seemed so relaxed, even though my world was crumbling.
Bradley’s eyes never left my face, not with recognition but with suspicion. I tightened my grip on his hand. “Bradley, it’s me.” He pulled his hand away.
The motion was small, but it felt violent. “Please don’t touch me,” he said.
The nurse froze, the doctor cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Bradley added, his voice steady but confused. “I don’t know her.”
“I’m his wife,” I said quickly, like if I said it fast enough, it would still be true.
Bradley frowned. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.” He looked at the doctor. “Why is she here?” The doctor hesitated. “Mr. James, this is… complicated.”
Bradley’s eyes sharpened. “Nothing in my life is uncomplicated.”
I almost laughed, almost cried.
“Bradley,” I whispered. “You married me.”
He was just looking at me. “Well, I’m not married, as far as I know”
The words hit harder than the accident ever could have. “Yes, you are,” I said. “You just don’t remember.”
“That’s convenient,” he replied coolly. “Do you have proof?”
My mouth opened, and then closed. My ring was gone. I’d taken it off weeks ago, for safety.
I had nothing. “I.......” My throat tightened. “You said you didn’t want records.”
Bradley’s gaze flicked to the doctor again. “Is this true?”
The doctor chose his words carefully. “Your memory loss is… selective, so i can’t really say”
Bradley scoffed. “So I forgot a wife?”
“Well, i guess so”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to,” I said. “It just has to be true.” His eyes returned to me, searching my face like it was a puzzle he didn’t want to solve.
“Why do you look so sure?” he asked.
“Because it’s true, I loved you before you forgot you ever loved me.”
The room went very quiet.
The nurse shifted awkwardly. “Maybe we should.......”
“Leave,” Bradley said sharply.
Everyone froze.
“Leave,” he repeated. “All of you.”
The doctor hesitated. “Mr. James”
“I’m fine,” Bradley snapped. “I want to talk to her alone” The doctor looked at me. “Five minutes.”
They left, the door shut.
It was just us.
He didn’t soften. “You’re lying,” he said.
I shook my head. “I wish I were.”
“People don’t forget marriages.”
“well, i guess they do, when forgetting keeps someone alive.”
His jaw clenched. “You keep saying that like it explains everything.”
“It explains enough.”
He crossed his arms. “Say my name.”
“Bradley.”
“No,” he said. “The way you used to.”
My heart skipped. “You called it a bad habit.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“You said I said it like I was claiming you.”
His expression flickered. “Say it.”
I hesitated. “Jules.” His breath hitched.
He noticed, I noticed. We both pretended it didn’t happen.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” he said quickly.
“No,” I agreed. “But it felt familiar, didn’t it?”
He didn’t answer. “You hate hospitals,” I went on softly. “You say they smell like fear.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s true.”
“You take your coffee black. You never sleep before midnight. You pretend you don’t care about old movies but quote them anyway.”
“Stop,” he snapped.
“You proposed in this ridiculous serious voice,” I said. “Like you were closing a business deal.”
“I said stop.”
“You were nervous,” I continued. “Your hands were shaking.”
“I don’t......” He stopped. Pressed his fingers to his temple. “I don’t remember that.”
“I know.”
“Then why does my head hurt?”
“Because I’m telling the truth.”
He looked at me like he wanted to believe me and hated himself for it.
“There’s no record of you,” he said.
“I know.”
“No photos.”
“I know.”
“No witnesses.”
“There were two.”
“Who?”
“You said it was safer if they disappeared from our lives afterward.”
His lips parted slightly. “That’s something I’d say.”
“Yes.”
He exhaled slowly. “If you’re my wife… why hide you?”
“Because someone tried to kill me,” I said quietly.
The silence that followed was different, heavier. “Who?”
“You never told me names.”
“Why?”
“Because you said knowing would make me careless.”
“That also sounds like me.”
“You were trying to protect me.”
“And now?”
“And now you forgot.”
He laughed suddenly, bitter and sharp. “So what? I just wake up and there’s a woman claiming she’s my secret wife?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“So is forgetting someone you love, and someone you went to great lengths to protect”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t love you.”
I nodded. “you do, you just don’t know it.”
“That doesn’t hurt you?”
“It does,” I said honestly. “But it doesn’t change the truth.”
He looked away.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then “If I married you,” he said slowly, “I loved you.”
“Yes.”
“And if I loved you… I would have protected you.”
“You did.”
“Then why are you standing here alone?” Because I had no answer that wouldn’t break us both.
“Because loving you is dangerous,” I said finally.
His phone buzzed on the bedside table, he glanced at it.
His expression changed, I recognized that look. “Who is it?” I asked.
“My fiancée.” The word felt like a blade.
“Fiancée?” I echoed.
“Yes.” He frowned. “Kathie Mcgrath.” The name landed wrong, heavy, familiar in the worst way.
“You don’t remember marrying me,” I said carefully, “but you remember her.”
“I remember being engaged.” My chest tightened. “Since when?”
“Three months,” he said. “Why?”
Three months, I’d still been wearing my ring then.
“You proposed to her?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Did your hands shake?”
He paused. “No.”
I nodded. “That’s how I know.”
“Know what?”
“That you loved me.”
His phone buzzed again, he picked it up. I watched his face soften in a way that hurt more than anger.
“I have to take this,” he said.
I stepped back. “Of course.”
He answered. “Kathie.” I turned away.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Just a concussion.”
Pause.
“No, there’s no one here.” I closed my eyes.
“No,” he continued. “Just doctors.”
Another pause. “I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up.
When he looked at me again, the wall was back. “I don’t know who you are,” he said. “But if you’re lying, you’re dangerous.”
“And if I’m not?” I asked.
“Then you’re worse,” he replied. “Because you make me doubt myself.”
I nodded. “That’s fair.”
“So this is what’s going to happen,” he said. “You’re going to leave.”
“I already planned to.”
“You won’t contact me again.”
“I won’t.”
“And if you’re telling the truth…” He hesitated. “Then I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For forgetting you.” I smiled, small and tired. “You promised you wouldn’t.”
His brow furrowed. “I did?”
“Yes.”
The doctor knocked lightly. “Time’s up.”
Bradley looked away first, I walked to the door.
Then stopped, “Bradley.” He didn’t look at me.
“You said you’d never forget me,” I said. His voice was quiet. “I don’t remember saying that.”
“I know,” I replied.
I stepped out, the door closed behind me.
And just like that, I became a stranger with my husband’s face burned into my memory.
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