Falling For Mr Dominic In 30 Days

Chapter Two

Morning came like it always did on the night shift. Not as a relief but as a marker. The sky outside the corridor windows changed from black to grey to white like a typical New York winter morning that didn't promise much.

Marisol hadn't slept.

She finished her shift handed over to the day team and changed out of her scrubs in the locker room. Then she sat on a bench with her bag in her lap for eleven minutes doing nothing. Just sitting. Just breathing. Letting the weight of the six hours press down on her.

Then she got up put her bag over her shoulder and went back to the floor. She told herself it was because she had forgotten to note something in a chart.. That wasn't true. She went back because she needed to see Room 14 in the daylight. She needed to see it as a room not as the place where she had made the decision of her career.

The day nurse, Patricia was inside when Marisol passed the window. Dominic was awake. He was sitting up against the pillows talking to Patricia with the slowness of someone testing out how words worked again after a long time without them.

He looked nothing like the conscious man who had reached for her wrist in the dark. He was a striking person. Dark eyes, sharp jaw, the kind of face that had probably opened doors for him before he had money. He was also clearly in pain and managing it with pride. Marisol could see it in the set of his shoulders the evenness of his expression.

Patricia said something. He almost smiled. It didn't quite happen,. You could see he was trying.

Marisol walked away from the window.

She was in the elevator going down when her phone rang. It was Genevieve. Marisol stared at the name for two rings then answered.

"He's awake " Genevieve said. Not a question. She had already spoken to someone on the day team. "I'm coming in at eight."

"Visiting hours start at nine " Marisol said.

"I'm his fiancée " Genevieve said. There was a pause. "I'll be there at eight."

"The doctors have him scheduled for assessment at eight-thirty " Marisol said. "You'll need to wait until that's finished."

There was a pause. Marisol could hear Genevieve thinking.

"Fine " Genevieve said. "Nine.. I need to speak with you before I go in."

"I'm off shift " Marisol said.

"I know. I need ten minutes " Genevieve said. There was a pause then something shifted in her voice. Not softer, but different. "Please."

Marisol closed her eyes briefly. "I'll be in the ground-floor café."

Marisol was on her coffee, which she didn't need but was drinking anyway when Genevieve arrived. Genevieve looked like a cream coat, smooth hair. The pregnancy test from the night seemed to have been absorbed back into her controlled life without leaving a mark.

She sat across from Marisol. Ordered nothing. She folded her hands on the table.

"The doctors spoke to me this morning " Genevieve said. "Before I called you."

"About the memory loss," Marisol said.

"Yes," Genevieve said. She looked at her hands. "Two years. He's missing two years."

Marisol had read the neurological notes. Retrograde amnesia, post-traumatic. The last two years of Dominic Crane's life were simply gone.

"He doesn't remember the engagement " Genevieve said.

"No " Marisol said.

"He doesn't remember me. Not as his fiancée. He knows who I am. They met four years ago at a company event. He remembers that.. The last two years—" Genevieve stopped. "Everything they built together. He doesn't have it."

Marisol looked at Genevieve across the table. She was trying to read her and finding it hard. There was something in Genevieve's face that might have been grief. The specific grief of someone whose relationship had been erased. It was sitting alongside something Marisol couldn't name.

"What do you need from me?" Marisol asked.

"He's going to ask questions " Genevieve said. "About us. About their relationship. About the two years. The doctors say it's important that he isn't overwhelmed with information before the neurological picture is clearer. Much too soon can cause. They used the word destabilizing."

"That's accurate " Marisol said.

"So for now the approach they're recommending is that he be allowed to ask questions at his pace and that the people around him answer gently and carefully " Genevieve said. She met Marisol's eyes. "You are the person around him the most. You're with him every night. You will be in that room when I cannot be."

"I'm his nurse " Marisol said. "Not his. I'm not going to tell him things about your relationship. That's not my role."

"I'm not asking you to tell him things " Genevieve said carefully. "I'm asking you not to correct things. If he's confused about who you're who I am or what the situation is. Just don't correct it. Not yet. Not until the doctors say he's ready."

Marisol thought about the night. His hand on her wrist. Genevieve. You stayed.

She had not corrected it then.

She told herself that it had been instinct. Shock. The 2 AM reasoning of a nurse who had not wanted to distress a barely-conscious patient.

She was telling herself that with conviction this morning.

"You should speak to his team about this directly " Marisol said. "If there's a protocol for managing his memory recovery it should be. Agreed upon by everyone involved in his care. Not just me."

"I have an appointment with Dr. Reeves at eleven " Genevieve said. She buttoned her coat with efficiency. "I wanted to speak with you " She looked at Marisol steadily. "We have an understanding."

It was not a question.

Marisol did not answer it.

Genevieve left.

Marisol sat with her coffee and looked out the window at the grey February morning. She thought about two lines on a pregnancy test and ten thousand dollars and a man who had reached for her in the dark and been comforted by what he found.

She thought about her mother's PT bills.

She thought about what kind of person she was.

She finished the coffee. Went home. Set an alarm for six hours, from now.

She did not sleep for most of them.