I don’t need to give you one. But I will give you this.’ She walked across the room and handed him the newspaper before stepping back. As if imagining that the second he confirmed the date for himself he would somehow explode. ‘Look at the date.’
At first she didn’t think he would look at it, but he finally lifted the paper and scanned the first page for the date.
She knew the exact second his gaze fell upon it. He seemed to stiffen, the muscle in his jaw flickering, the focus in his eyes intensifying before he flipped through, checking that all the other pages stated the same date, too. Then he went back to the beginning, scanned the headlines.
Sam dropped the paper as if it were contaminated, closing his eyes briefly as it all sank in.
‘Two years? I’ve lost two years?’
He sounded so broken. So hurt. It made her heart ache. Made her feel like she needed to cross the room to him and take him in her arms and hug him better. She didn’t want him to be hurting. She never had.
‘I’m so sorry, Sam. But it’s true. We’ve been married eighteen months now. We honeymooned in Paris. We were very happy.’
He instantly looked up, met her gaze, pinning her with his normally soft blue eyes. ‘Were?’
She tried not to cry. She seemed to be so emotional since finding out she was pregnant. She struggled to keep control of her voice. ‘We’re having one or two...problems.’
Sam bristled. ‘What kind of problems?’
Emily shook her head. ‘We can talk about those later. The doctor’s coming to talk to you now. About the amnesia.’
‘Are there problems at work? Is the Monterey failing?’
She could hear the fear in his voice. The concern. ‘No. It’s doing very well. The launch was amazing and we’ve had almost full capacity from day one. You haven’t stopped working—working all hours to make it a success.’
At that moment the door opened and a new doctor came in, holding Sam’s case notes in his hands.
Emily snapped to attention and crossed her arms, stepping back out of the doctor’s way.
‘Mr and Mrs Saint? I’m Dr Elijah Penn—how can I be of assistance?’
She managed a weak smile and went over to shake Dr Penn’s hand. ‘Hello, Doctor. My husband has just learned that he’s lost two years of his memory after his head injury. We were in a car crash together ten days ago. We were wondering if you could tell us some more about what to expect, and what we can do to help him regain his memory.’
Dr Penn frowned. ‘I’ve only had a brief read-through of your notes, Mr Saint, and without giving you a thorough examination and questioning you myself over what you remember I can’t be precise here. There are many different types of amnesia caused by traumatic head injury and right now it would be hard to be specific.’
‘Can you tell us what you do know?’
‘I wouldn’t like to guess, as I’m not your husband’s physician and I wouldn’t want to tell you anything erroneous. But if you’ll give me a moment or two with your husband then I’ll tell you what I can.’
Emily nodded. Okay. That sounded sensible. She left Sam’s room once again and went and sat outside. From her purse she pulled out her cell phone and felt drawn to the photo album. Opening it, she began flicking through. Perhaps there was something here that might help Sam? Perhaps if he looked at their moments together that might provoke some kind of memory?
There were lots to go through. Many of the photographs were from work. Mothers-to-be whom she’d become great friends with, bouquets that she’d been sent as thanks. There were some pictures of the house after they’d had some work done on it. Other people’s babies.
Why weren’t there any pictures of her and Sam together? She had a few selfies. One or two of Sam in scrubs about to go into a Caesarean section, and then one of him relaxing at the house, reading a work journal. In neither of them was he smiling that beautiful smile she hadn’t seen for such a long time. When had he last smiled at her? Apart from today? Because that didn’t count any more, did it? He was of the mind-set that she’d just accepted his proposal. He thought they were happy.
If only...
She scrolled furiously through the rest of the photos. Nothing of them together except for one right at the beginning, when she’d first got the phone, of her and Sam, heads together, smiling at the camera.
When had that been? She checked the date stamp. It had been just after the Monterey had opened. Of course they’d been happy then. Work had been enthralling. They’d been busy. Passing like ships in the night, sometimes, but planning their wedding.
She felt the tears threaten once again and stood up abruptly, shaking them off. What on earth was she going to do? And how was Sam feeling? Thinking they were blissfully happy only to learn that he couldn’t remember his own wedding and had no idea that over the last eighteen months he had slowly been distancing himself from her.
The doctor came to the door. ‘Would you like to come in?’
Emily shoved the phone back in her jacket pocket and hurried through, glancing at Sam. He looked glum, but reached out his hand.
Puzzled, but hopeful, she went over to him and took his hand in hers, her heart pounding in her chest because he’d reached out to her. Needed her. He hadn’t done that for such a long time.
‘Bad news?’
Dr Penn held his clipboard against his chest. ‘I’ve had a chance to chat with your husband. Ask him a few questions. See what he understands of his situation. You’ve both been very lucky in that you escaped the car accident with a minimum amount of injuries. But from my understanding from this limited examination I would presume to say that Sam is suffering from a retrograde amnesia.’
Emily squeezed his fingers and looked at him. ‘Which is...?’
‘It can be caused by various conditions including head trauma, which Sam has gone through. Retrograde amnesia means that Sam’s most recent memories are less likely to be recalled, but his long-term memories are easier for him to remember.’
‘Right.’
‘It’s usually temporary, which is the good thing—though I have to warn you, of course, that not everyone will experience it that way. Sam may be unlucky. We have no way of knowing for sure into which camp Sam will fall.’
‘But if it is temporary...is there anything we can do to try and help the memories come back?’
Dr Penn nodded. ‘It can help to try and provoke those memories. Show Sam familiar things—photos, videos, possessions, favourite foods, smells, clothing. Anything and everything that might help the memories come back.’
‘Places? Like if I took him to where we got married or our favourite restaurant?’
‘Anywhere he can be immersed for as long as possible should help. Usually it’s not just one item that makes memories return but a drowning in overall sensation—place, aroma, sounds, people. All of it at once. Like déjà-vu.’
