asked, absorbing the news. His first thought was that the only reason she’d asked for him was because she didn’t remember that she’d been the one to walk away in the first place. And what did any of that mean for their relationship? Was he supposed to forget the fact that she’d served him with divorce papers and pretend like nothing was wrong?
“It’s difficult to say at this point. Memories have a tendency to return like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. They’ll get bits here and there with no rhyme or reason,” Dr. Burt said.
“Is it a permanent condition? Can it come and go?” Austin asked. What he knew about amnesia could fill his coffee cup and nothing more. And most of that knowledge came from him or one of his brothers suffering from a concussion in childhood.
“Many people regain much of what they’ve lost, if not all. For some, they never retrieve that information. The brain is complicated and there’s not a one-size-fits-all approach.” Dr. Burt’s shoulders relaxed. He maintained soft eye contact, blinking and looking away as he recalled information. Everything about the man’s posture communicated compassion. “If it’s any consolation, we’ve observed a direct correlation between recovery of the head injury and return of memories. The better the healing, the more long-term memories tend to come back.”
“I’m guessing you can’t tell me when that will happen,” Austin said.
“Not with any degree of confidence,” the doctor admitted. “Generally speaking, the less severe the head injury, the smaller the degree of associated retrograde amnesia. From evaluating her memory versus the trauma to her head, I’d guess that her memories could return fairly soon. She’s in excellent physical condition and that always aids recovery. Her head sustained a fair amount of trauma both from the blunt force instrument and then when she fell after the initial blow. Indications are that she collided hard with the concrete. That being said, she’s young and strong. Both of those factors weigh in. The better she takes care of herself in recovery, the more hopeful I am.”
“Will this affect her ability to do her job?” Austin asked.
“She won’t be able to go back to work without medical clearance,” Dr. Burt said. “We’ll recommend follow-up treatment as part of her rehabilitation plan.”
“What about forcing reality? Can I tell her the truth about our life?” he asked.
“That’s up to you.” He clasped his hands.
“She might not want to see me when she remembers the past,” Austin admitted.
“This has to be a difficult situation for you. If you care about her, my advice is to take it easy. Making memories flood back before the brain can handle them can cause even more distress and delay her progress,” Dr. Burt stated. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s not news you wanted to hear.”
Austin needed to ask another question. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer except that experience had taught him that dodging a problem usually made it worse. That was especially true with his marriage. He would have to face the music that she was involved with another man at some point. “She didn’t mention wanting to see anyone else, did she?”
“No.” Dr. Burt looked Austin square in the eye. “It seems like your situation is—” the doctor searched the white floor tile like the answer might be found there “—complicated. No one would blame you for walking away. You signed the paperwork consenting treatment, so you’ve done your part. She’ll likely recover her memory in a few days, possibly weeks, and if there’s someone else in her life, then you might not want to be around for the moment she remembers him and wants him to be the one to help her.”
The man had a point.
“Thanks for the honesty and for everything you’ve done for her,” Austin said, knowing full well that he couldn’t walk away until he knew that Maria would be okay. He hadn’t expected the call to come in the first place. He hadn’t expected to spend the next two nights at a bedside vigil, pretending to be something they were not, a happy couple. And least of all, he hadn’t expected to be the one taking her to her apartment to settle in, a place he’d never set foot in—the place where she’d moved to get away from him.
But there he was, doing it all the same.
Maria was smart, athletic and strong. Seeing her in a hospital bed, helpless, with tubes sticking out of her had been a blow that had knocked Austin back a few steps. Divorce or not, he needed to see her get back on her feet.
There was another kink. Even though she’d been cleared of her head injury, she made no progress on regaining her memories. She didn’t remember the fact that they were separated let alone on the verge of divorce. Austin had expected her fiancé to drop by at some point during the hospital stay. He’d been told on the second day that Dr. Burt had convinced him, whoever he was, to stay away for now.
Maria was quiet on the ride to her loft.
Stepping inside, she seemed as lost as he felt.
“Funny, I don’t remember this place as much as I do our house on the ranch,” Maria said, those big brown eyes of hers staring up at him as he stood in the unfamiliar surroundings of the open-concept loft. “And why do I have an apartment here in Austin away from you anyway?”
The doctor had said that her memories could come back one at a time or as an avalanche. One at a time was the best scenario, he’d said.
“To be closer to work,” Austin said, not feeling a connection to the city where she lived even though he shared its name. Lies were racking up. The doctor had said that Maria was most likely suppressing negative memories and that it was best to let her mind work everything out.
Give her time, he’d said. She’ll come around.
“Why don’t I see any of your things? Don’t you live here, too?” she asked, glancing around as she took a step toward the kitchen island.
“I’m needed on the ranch,” he said, shaking his head.
Talking to Maria like nothing was wrong, like those damn papers weren’t sitting on his desk waiting to be signed, seemed like an even worse betrayal than the day she’d walked out.
“Can I sit here? I’m not really tired enough to go to bed.” Maria motioned toward the couch. “Besides, I’ve already been lying down for what feels like an eternity.”
Austin put his arm around her waist, ignoring the electricity pinging between them as he helped her to the sofa. She leaned into him and, for a second, he remembered how good her body was at molding to his. How soft her skin was...
Those thoughts were as productive as shoveling mulch with a pitchfork.
She eased down with a groan. Austin didn’t need to think it was sexy. But her voice had always had that effect on him.
Her long brown hair parted on the side now and fell way past her shoulders. She’d grown it out since he’d last seen her. And he was certain a lot of other things had changed about her since then, too.
“I never knew this many places in my body could hurt at the
