Blank Slate

by Olivia Saxton

  “Adios,” Damien and Layla said in unison.

  Izabella headed down the steps as the married couple went inside. Izabella was in the states under refugee status. Parts of South America had been taken over by corrupted officials and gangs who demanded monthly protection money. Izabella and her two adult children had fled their country after the cartel killed her husband for not paying enough money from his restaurant business.

  Damien went upstairs while Layla dropped the wine bottle in the kitchen trash and rinsed the glasses out. She opened another bottle of white wine and carried it and the glasses upstairs. She wasn’t drunk, but she was a little tipsy – and horny. Layla slinked upstairs and went into the bedroom. Damien had stripped off his shirt and blue jeans and left them on the floor as usual. She set down the items on the nightstand and picked up the clothes and placed them in the hamper. The shower started running.

  Layla was glad he decided to take a shower because it gave her time to change into a sexy black number she picked up three weeks ago. The teddy was silk, and it made her C-cups look like Ds. She brushed out her jet-black hair and poured the wine. She pulled the covers down and lay on top of them. Layla nursed her drink as she waited for Damien to get out of the shower. When she heard the water turn off, she took a hefty swallow of wine and set the glass on the nightstand. She lay flat on her back, propping her head on her hand as she let her elbow rest on the pillow. She crossed her ankles and waited. It had been a month since they had made love. When they did make love, Layla had to be the one to initiate it. She wasn’t sure if it was always like that with them. She figured he didn’t want to push himself on her because of the accident that caused her memory loss.

  The bathroom door opened. She plastered a big sexy smile on her face. Damien emerged wearing his loose, plaid pajama bottoms. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her in her sexy pose. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

  “Now that I have some help around here, I have a little extra energy to devote to . . . your personal needs.”

  He chuckled as he strolled to her side of the bed. “That’s great, but what is that you’re wearing?”

  “It’s a teddy. Lingerie,” she said sultrily.

  He cocked his head to the side.

  “You don’t like it?” she asked tentatively.

  “You know I think you look beautiful no matter what you wear, but you know that I’m not into the sexy undies thing. It’s just a waste of time. It’s going to end up on the floor,” he said with a smirk as he sat on the edge of the king-sized bed.

  She gave him a small smile. For the past three years, she had tried different things to get Damien to be a little more sexually aggressive; lingerie, costumes, and ideas for different places to make love. Nothing seemed to rev his engine other than a blow job, and he only wanted that once in a while. He didn’t even like trying new positions. Missionary style, and if he was in the mood, he would let her get on top for a few minutes. The disappointment must have shown on her face because he cupped her cheek.

  “I want to make love to you. I’m just saying that you don’t have to go through extremes to get me to have sex with you. I want you all the time and just the way you are,” he said sweetly.

  “Ah,” she sighed softly. She knew that he loved her and found her attractive. But she yearned to surprise him sometimes – and to infuse their sex life with a little passion and excitement.

  Damien leaned down and kissed her. She loved the way his thick, dark mustache would tickle her nose. He was always a good kisser. His full lips stroked hers so gently. When he lifted his head, the room was dark. They always had sex with the lights off, letting the streetlight flood the room to create a soft ambiance. He slowly peeled the straps down on her teddy and smoothed it down her body. Damien’s soft palms glided down her bare breasts, the front of her tummy, and then her thighs, as usual. He stood and dropped his pants, and then he mounted her. She fought from rolling her eyes from boredom of the same old, same old as she reached down to grab his partially hard pole. She fisted him and stroked as he breathed heavy.

  After a few minutes, he patted her hand. That was his signal that he was ready. Layla opened her legs. He let out a satisfied groan as he entered her. Luckily, she was moist from the fantasy she had while he was in the shower. Her idea of how this was supposed to go was him coming from the shower and tearing the teddy off her, rolling her on her back, and slamming her from behind.

  Not that Damien was a bad lover. He was a nice size, she supposed. From what she read online, some women had to endure their men being so short that it was barely inside. It felt good as usual, but she never had that earthshattering orgasm that she would read about in erotica novels.

  Oh well, it is just fiction. I should be thankful that I have a husband who treats me right and doesn’t complain about how much money I spend. He works hard to provide for Keisha and me.

  Damien nuzzled her neck and started whispering the sweet things he always whispered in her ear. You feel so good. You’re so soft and warm. Your body is beautiful. You smell like flowers. She liked his murmuring. It made her feel special, like he saw her as a one-of-a-kind woman.

  He pumped faster. He never gave her hard thrusts. He was gentle – always gentle; like she was a tight virgin who had to be handled with kid gloves. But it felt good when he went faster. It was the highlight of their lovemaking. She held out on the moaning as long as she could, but a squeak seeped out. Layla cursed her lack of self-control when he started grunting. Knowing what was about to happen, she widened her legs and lifted them in the air to give him more access for when he stopped to release inside her. And he did.

  A deep groan echoed from the back of Damien’s throat as his body shook like he was being electrocuted. His body was moist. Then he rolled over and pulled her into his arms, cradling her against him like he always did.

  “Mmm, baby,” he groaned as he stroked her back with his fingers.

  She smiled against his pec. Oh well, at least he’s satisfied.

  “Are you still on the pill?”

  This is new.

  “Yes, why?” she asked softly with a hint of hesitancy.

  “I’ve been thinking. I would like to give Keisha a little brother or sister. What do you think?”

  Her lips parted with surprise. This was the first time he had mentioned that he wanted another child. Layla wanted another child, but she didn’t feel the time was right. Her first real appointment with the therapist was Thursday, and she was hiding it from her husband, and they were both trying to increase their profile in the community by hosting an auction that she knew would be a lot of work. Plus, she wanted her memories back before she kept moving forward with her life. She was sick of feeling like a blank slate. Layla raised her head to look at him. “I would love to have another baby, but I don’t think now is a good time. First, I would like to wait until Keisha is a little older. Maybe when she starts kindergarten.”

  Damien’s dark eyebrows rose. “That won’t be for another two years.”

  “So? We’re still in our early thirties. Plus, I think it would be a lot for me to handle a newborn and a toddler at home at the same time.”

  “You’re still in your early thirties. I’m thirty-nine.”

  “You don’t look a day over thirty-one,” she complimented.

  Damien smiled. “Well, Keisha will be in preschool if we wait for a year, not two.”

  She gazed upward, thinking about his reasoning. “I suppose if I get pregnant when she is in the middle of preschool, the baby would come around the time that she’s in kindergarten.”

  “Sooo,” he enunciated. “How about waiting a year instead of two then?”

  She thought for a moment. It wasn’t unreasonable, and she really did want another baby. By that time, she would recall her past or not. Either way, she would go on with her life knowing that she tried every possible avenue to remember her past. A smile curled on her lips. “One year, Dr. Miles, and not a minute before that.”

&nb
sp; He laughed. “You got it, Mrs. Miles.”

  They smiled at each other.

  Chapter 3

  Layla was more nervous than a girl going off to college. Of course, she never went to college, so how would she know what that feels like?

  Dr. Samuelson sat down across from her. “I think it’s best that we start off with your earliest memory. If we can’t get you to remember anything in the first few sessions, then we’ll graduate into hypnosis.”

  “All right,” Layla said.

  “I got a copy of your medical records from the clinic that treated you in New York. You were unconscious for almost a full day and then you came out of it with no memory of your life or even what your name was.”

  “That’s correct,” she confirmed.

  “It also says here that the CT scan showed that there was no physical reason why you can’t remember your past. The attending physician wrote that he believed it was emotional trauma that was causing the memory block.”

  “Yes, I remember him telling me that. He had recommended a psychiatrist then.”

  “Why didn’t you see one?”

  “My husband was against it. He said that he didn’t want me to upset myself. Then he asked me if I really wanted to remember how my parents abandoned me and put me up for adoption when I was six years old.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Yes, that revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. I got pretty upset and realized that he was right – at the time. I couldn’t handle remembering that in my fragile state.”

  “And now you think you can?”

  “I know I can because I have no choice. It’s starting to bother me that there is a huge chunk of my life that . . . I don’t know about.”

  Dr. Samuelson nodded. “Okay, let’s go back to the time in New York. Tell me what you remember when you woke up.”

  “I woke up in a place I didn’t recognize. I looked around, and I was all alone in the room. That’s when I realized that I didn’t even know who I was. I tried to get out of the bed, and that’s when I realized my neck was in a brace, and my leg was in a cast up to my thigh.”

  Dr. Samuelson put the medical file on the coffee table. “Yes, it said that you had a sprained neck and your leg was broken in two places. The file said that you were in a car accident.”

  “The medical staff said that I was probably hit by a drunk driver who was able to flee the scene of the accident.”

  “The cops couldn’t get any information from your crashed car?”

  She shook her head. “Cops? There was one county deputy that came to see me. I was outside of the city. He claimed that he couldn’t even find a car. Poor Damien couldn’t remember where it was. If Damien hadn’t gotten worried and looked for me, my baby and I would have died in the car.”

  “So you remember you were pregnant when the crash happened?”

  “No. I didn’t know I was pregnant at all. Damien didn’t know either until he got me to the emergency room. The staff figured it out. I was only four to five weeks long. I was lucky that I didn’t miscarry. I did go into labor a month before my due date, and they did a C-section as a precaution. Luckily, Keisha was born without major health complications.”

  “Was she put in an incubator?”

  “Yes, but it was only for a week. She weighed exactly five pounds when she was born. Once she gained a little weight, and it was obvious she had no signs of impairments, we were able to take her home.”

  “That’s one lucky kid.”

  “She is, and I am grateful. With the exception of my husband, she is the light of my life,” Layla said with pride.

  “What else happened at the clinic?”

  “After I woke up, I called out. ‘Hello. Hello.’ A nurse heard me from the hallway. She was pretty surprised to see me awake, but she called the doctor, nevertheless. Once the doctor checked my vitals, he said he was going to get the receptionist to call my fiancé at his hotel to let him know I was awake. They must have warned Damien that I didn’t have my memory because when I laid eyes on him, he introduced himself as my fiancé.”

  “Dr. Miles is a neurosurgeon, right?”

  “Yes. Damien had just gotten his license two years before the accident. He told me that we were waiting to get married until we could afford a house, but he said we should get married sooner rather than later because I was pregnant.”

  “Well, I’m sure that was a shock in the state you were in.”

  “More than a shock. I was freaked out. Here was this man, who was good looking by the way, telling me that we were engaged, and that I was around five weeks pregnant.”

  “How did you handle it?”

  “Not well at first. Don’t get me wrong, I thought Damien was adorable, and I told him so, but I also told him I wasn’t ready to be a mother. Especially since I couldn’t even remember how old I was.” Layla smiled. “Damien was so patient and understanding. He just helped me through my fears and my freak-out episodes.”

  Dr. Samuelson smiled. “Sounds like he loves you very much.”

  “Yes. I was in the clinic for two weeks. One of the reasons was because we were in New York, and our studio apartment was in DC. The doctor didn’t want me traveling so far because he thought it would jeopardize my recovery.”

  “Then you went back to DC?”

  “Yes. Damien was afraid that it would be too difficult for me to hobble around a large airport, so he rented an SUV, and we drove back.”

  “What were you two doing in New York, anyway?”

  “He was attending his first medical conference. I went with him for moral support, and I had never been to New York before. His mother had given us the money to attend. She thought it would skyrocket his career.”

  “I take it that you didn’t remember his parents either?”

  “No. I had never met his father. He had died three years before we met, but he was a doctor, too, an orthopedic surgeon. I’m told he was very good at what he did. Damien’s mother was nice. She still lives in DC. She’s a retired nurse now. His parents met at the hospital they both worked in and fell in love.”

  “How is Damien’s mother toward you?”

  “Great. She would sit with me at the apartment while Damien was at work. She showed me the Miles family photos. She explained who everyone was and how they were all related.”

  “Does he have any siblings?”

  “No. He’s an only child. Mrs. Miles had gone on about how happy she was that Damien had a nice woman to marry, and he wouldn’t be alone anymore. Once my leg and neck had healed, Mrs. Miles gave us money to elope to Vegas and have our honeymoon there. I was able to buy a white satin dress, and Damien wore a nice fitted suit. A few months later, I had Keisha. Damien’s reputation as a neurosurgeon had picked up, so we weren’t struggling as bad as before. If it wasn’t for Mrs. Miles paying for my medical bills from New York and from the hospital in DC when I had Keisha, we wouldn’t be where we are today. We owe that woman a lot. Either we call her once a week, or she calls us. She adores Keisha.”

  “Did you have a job?”

  “I was a waitress before the accident. When Damien called the restaurant and told them what happened to me, the owner expressed his sympathy, but he couldn’t hold my job until I got better. However, he did say that when I was ready, I could reapply for my position if he had an opening.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. I was pregnant with Keisha, and I knew I would have to stay home to take care of her. Childcare in DC is outrageous.”

  “It’s outrageous everywhere anymore,” Dr. Samuelson commented.

  Layla nodded.

  “You didn’t have any friends at your job?”

  “Not really. Damien had said I got along with my co-workers, but I wasn’t close to them. But he didn’t have to tell me that because no one from the restaurant ever called to see how I was. Not even the owner. I chalked it up to life in the big city.”

  Dr. Samuelson made notes on her notepad. “Why did you two leave DC?�
�

  “Damien’s reputation for being a brilliant neurosurgeon was spreading like wildfire. He had written several research articles for several medical journals. He learned that he could make twice the money in Florida, especially in the Tampa area because they were short of neurosurgeons. He asked me if I was willing to take a chance.” Layla grinned. “I was. His mother loaned us money for the down payment for the house we live in now, and we were able to pay her back a year after we moved. Our gamble paid off. We live in a pretty posh neighborhood, we drive gorgeous cars, we no longer have to eat Oodles of Noodles, and I don’t have to buy Keisha’s clothes from the Salvation Army anymore.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m very fortunate. I know that. If I can recover my memory, my life will be perfect. You know, last week, Damien said he wanted to have another child.”

  Dr. Samuelson looked up from her notepad. “How do you feel about that?”

  “Great, but I don’t think now is a good time, and I told him so.”

  “I agree. What did he say when you told him?”

  “We compromised. We’re going to wait a year. I’m hoping by then I’ll have the answers that I seek from our sessions. If not, then I’ll have to find a way to cope with my memory loss.”

  “Well, we can’t rush it. Let’s see what happens.”

  “Okay. You know–”

  “Layla, our time is about up.”

  “Oh. Already?”

  “Yes, sometimes it flies by. Before you go, I wanted to ask you if you are having any problems other than the occasional insomnia you told me about.”

  “No. Just the insomnia, but that’s not every night. Sometimes my mind won’t turn off. When that happens, it’s usually because the questions about my past are plaguing me.”

  “I got a copy of your physical from your general physician. There’s no reason why I can’t prescribe you a light sedative. You can take it as needed. It’s important that you get your rest during the time I am treating you.”

  Layla thought for a moment. “They’re not additive, are they?”