“It was scary.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve had headaches constantly since I woke up, but I hadn’t had an episode like that since the first day or two, where the pain was so bad that it caused me to collapse.”
“You’re okay now,” Anderson assured me. “Just take it easy – the doctor said you were overdoing it . . . trying to heal faster.”
I practically deflated with relief.
The doctor hadn’t told him anything private, and I was glad. I didn’t want to hurt Anderson; I needed time with him so I could eventually let him down easy. It occurred to me then that I had already made up my mind, with no room for argument. I wanted Elliot. He was my one. I was heartbroken for Anderson, and I felt awful knowing I intended to end our marriage, our entire relationship, but I couldn’t be with someone I didn’t know or care for. I didn’t even want to get to know him, which made me feel horribly cruel. But the fact was I didn’t want him.
Not when I had Elliot . . . No man compared to him in my eyes, or in my heart, and no one ever would.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I guess because my headaches aren’t as bad, and my body is healing, I was getting restless here. It was a reminder than my brain is still hurting and I’ve a long way to go until I’m better.”
“Do you remember what you were doing to bring on the pain?”
I hesitated for a moment but didn’t see the point in hiding a conversation.
“Elliot told me about why we broke up because I have no memory of it. I guess I was trying to remember what he told me for myself and my brain just checked out. One second I was talking and the next I was lying down with Doctor Abara leaning over me. He scolded me for not taking care of myself.”
Anderson kept eye contact with me as I spoke, so I busied myself with fixing my blanket. His hold on my wrist didn’t hurt, but it was bothering me. His touch didn’t soothe me like Elliot’s did when he held my hand and brushed his thumb over my knuckles.
“Elliot has been here a lot.”
A statement, not a question.
“Yes, along with my parents,” I added. “My mind is stuck in a period when they’re all I remember. Surely you understand that their presence comforts me, right?”
“You left Elliot,” Anderson said bluntly. “You wanted more from him than what he could give you. You told me you had never loved anyone the way you loved me.”
I felt like I couldn’t speak.
“When I met you, we just clicked. Once we started talking, I soon found out that you were . . . depressed,” he said tentatively. “You don’t like medication so you didn’t want to see a doctor about it, but you were hurting in your mind. You had pulled away from your parents, your ex’s family, and it got so bad that you even quit your job not long later.”
I stared at Anderson with my mouth agape. I’d left my job as a florist . . . something I adored and which brought me joy outside of all my relationships. My heart clenched with pain.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “No one told me any of that.”
“They probably didn’t know about your depression.” He shrugged. “It’s just been you and me for the past few years. We’ve been together nearly four years and married for three.”
I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.
“I was depressed?” I blinked, bewildered.
It made sense. After leaving Elliot I could imagine myself going into a pit of loneliness and sadness . . . but I’d never have pushed my parents away. I tensed when I suddenly remembered my mother speaking to me on the night I awoke from my coma. She’d said she was never letting us drift apart again.
“Very depressed,” Anderson answered. “You were sad . . . but then we got close. We fell in love fast, and when I asked you to marry me, you said yes. We married ten months after we met. A whirlwind romance.”
I felt like my heart was about to burst. I had left Elliot after being together for seven years, and jumped into a new relationship and married ten months later. That was beyond crazy to me. It didn’t sound like something I would do . . . but then again, neither did leaving Elliot because he didn’t want to get married.
I tried to imagine myself entering a relationship with Anderson while I was still dealing with the hurt from breaking up with Elliot, and it dawned on me that Anderson must have been someone I felt a deep connection with in order for that to happen. I had always wanted security in my relationship, and since I’d lost that in Elliot, it made sense that I’d moved on with Anderson if he was someone I believed I could depend on.
“This is . . . a lot to break down,” I said, lifting my hands to my head. “A lot.”
The door to the room suddenly opened and I heard a female voice say, “It is way past visiting hours, sir. It’s three in the morning.”
“I’m her husband,” was Anderson’s reply.
That didn’t appease the nurse in the slightest, and I closed my eyes.
“You’ll have to leave, sir. Now.”
“Okay,” Anderson grunted. “Allow me to say goodbye to my wife . . . she’s hurting and wants me here.”
I couldn’t speak; an ache was forming and I was trying not to think too hard, but how could I not? Anderson had just told me a secret about
