Mind Over Marriage

by Rebecca Daniels

  “I’m suppose to pretend?” he asked slowly, feeling strangely winded, as if oxygen was no longer finding its way into his lungs. “You want me to go in there and playact at being her husband, is that it?”

  “You were her husband once,” Dr. Cohen pointed out dryly. “I wouldn’t think it would be such a difficult thing to do.”

  “No?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “She’s going to have to stay in the hospital for at least another week, probably longer. We’ll be able to monitor her closely, and she’ll have sessions with Dr. Crowell, who will help her deal with the amnesia.” He raised a shoulder. “And who knows? A lot can happen in a week. The two of you spend some time together, you start helping her fill in the blanks here and there—it might trigger something. It could start a domino effect—she remembers one thing, then another and so on.” Dr. Cohen rested his palms flat on the desk and spread his fingers wide. “Or you could walk in that room right now, she could take one look at you and bam!—everything could come back, just like that.”

  “Okay,” Coop said, conceding that point but ready to counter with one of his own. “That sounds just dandy, but what if her memory doesn’t come back just like that? What if there is no domino effect? What do we do then? What do we do if the time comes for her to be released and she still doesn’t remember?”

  Dr. Cohen sank back in his chair, giving Coop a frank look. “Then we reevaluate things.”

  Coop stood, walked to the window and stared out into the night. Reevaluate. It was one of those words like renegotiate, just another way of saying he was screwed. He turned to the doctor. “You talked to Mo about this?”

  The older man arched a brow. “He seemed to think you’d be willing.” He slowly brought his hands up, tenting them together, and regarded Coop carefully. “You know, there’s a possibility she’s blocked out that part of her life for a reason. Aren’t you a little curious? Don’t you think you should find out why that is?”

  Coop turned to the window again, pulling in a shaky breath. He already knew why, and knew the kindest thing would be if she never had to remember again.

  He closed his eyes, picturing her in his mind. Until today, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again, let alone have another chance to be her husband. Only this time it wouldn’t be real. It would only be pretense, and he wasn’t sure he could do it.

  Being with Kelsey meant getting involved again. He’d had two years to try to put his life back together, but he wasn’t sure it had been long enough. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to get involved only to watch her walk out of his life a second time.

  Slowly, Coop turned and made his way silently to the door.

  “What did you decide?” Mannie Cohen asked.

  Coop paused, his hand on the door, and gave the doctor a sidelong glance. “Decide? You make it sound as though I have a choice.”

  “Of course you have a choice,” Dr. Cohen insisted, rising to his feet. “There are always choices.”

  “You’ve never had a woman get under your skin before, have you, Doc?”

  The other man straightened his shoulders. “There have been women in my life—my wife, my ex—if that’s what you mean.”

  Coop laughed, a raw, sad sound that echoed through the small office. “None of these women of yours has ever gotten to you, though—none of them has ever gotten a hold of you good, have they?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Coop opened the door. “Because if they had, you never could have asked me to do this.”

  Chapter 3

  “Coop, sweetie, I can hardly believe this.”

  Coop leaned his forehead against the hard plastic molding that enclosed the pay phone in the lobby and pictured Doris DeAngelo on the other end of the line. “I know, I can hardly believe it myself.”

  “But she’s...she’s out of danger now, isn’t she? I mean, she’s going to be all right?”

  “Oh, yeah, the doctors seem confident she’ll make a full recovery,” Coop assured her. He’d neglected to mention anything about memory loss to Doris. It was just too confusing and too complicated to get into on the phone. “But it may take some time. Anyway, I’m going to be up here for...” His voice trailed off, and he brought a hand up and rubbed his eyes. “Well, I’ll be up here—I’m not sure for how long. Hold down the fort for me, will you?”

  “Don’t I always?” Doris asked affectionately. “I’ll line up someone to take the flights, don’t worry—but Coop, honey, would you like me to come up?”

  Coop closed his eyes, taking the offer for what it was—a show of affection. A part of him would have liked nothing more than to have Doris’s broad, understanding shoulder to cry on. They might rib each other, sparring and scrapping, but the fondness between them was real.

  “No,” he said with a tired sigh. “I’m okay, but I appreciate the offer.” He opened his eyes and saw Mo Chandler step off the elevator and start across the lobby toward him. “Besides, I need you to make sure I’ve still got a business to come back to.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Doris assured him. “I can’t afford to let this place go under. Where else would I find a cushy job like this and a boss I could push around as easily as you?”

  Her words were full of humor, but Coop heard and understood the emotion behind them. “Thanks, Doris.”

  “Take care of her, Coop,” Doris said, serious. “Kelsey’s one of the special ones.”

  Coop drew in a deep breath. “You won’t get an argument from me on that. Talk to you later.”

  Coop slipped the receiver onto the hook and turned to Mo. “Doris DeAngelo,” he said, by way of explanation. “I don’t know if you remember her.”

  “Sure I do,” Mo said, nodding and remembering Kelsey mentioning the name earlier. “Works for you, right?”

  “Right,” Coop agreed.

  Mo hesitated. “Dr. Cohen said he talked to you, that you agreed to... well, that you agreed to help.”

  Coop gave him a deliberate look. “You didn’t really doubt that I would, did you?”

  “No, not really,” Mo admitted, dropping his gaze to the shiny tiled floor. “But I realize it’s a lot to ask, getting you up here, asking you to—to go along with this. Especially after...”

  Coop put a hand up, stopping him. “This is for Kelsey. You know I’d do anything if it meant helping her get better.”

  Mo blinked. “You know, I don’t know if I ever told you...I mean about before, about what happened. I don’t know if I ever said how sorry I was. Kelsey was in such bad shape, took everything so hard. I know you were hurting, too, though.”

  Coop struggled, not wanting to think about the unhappiness that had touched so many of their lives.

  Swallowing the hard lump of emotion in his throat, he gave Mo a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It was a long time ago. Water under the bridge.” He took a deep breath, forcing the memories beneath the surface, and nodded toward the open elevator door. “Come on, show me where her room is.”

  Mo hesitated. “You know, it’s late. She might be asleep by now. You could probably wait, if you wanted, until morning. Give yourself a chance to...to rest up a bit.”

  Coop looked into Mo’s tired eyes and smiled. He understood and appreciated the reprieve his former father-in-law was offering, but he also knew it would only be putting off the inevitable. Awake or asleep, he had to see Kelsey now—tonight. He could talk all he wanted about water under the bridge, about things being over and done with, but the fact was, the bridge had collapsed and she was back in his life for real.

  “No,” Coop said, shaking his head. “I want to see her for a little while, anyway, even if she is asleep.” He stopped, the hand on Mo’s shoulder pressing firm. “You understand.”

  “Yeah,” Mo mumbled, stepping inside the elevator and pressing the button for the eighth floor.

  They made the ride in silence, both staring at the row of numbers above the door. When number eight glowed bright, a loud ping sounded, and the e
levator eased to a stop.

  “It’s this way,” Mo said, pointing to his left as they stepped out of the elevator and into the corridor. “In the isolation ward.”

  Coop turned and gave him a puzzled look. “Isolation?”

  “Her doctors thought it would be better this way,” Mo explained. “With her being so hazy about everything—the hospital and all the people. They just thought the fewer visitors she had, the less confusing it would be.” As they passed the nurse’s station, he nodded to the woman sitting behind the desk. “It’s pretty much just me and the other kids who visit.”

  “I see,” Coop said quietly.

  They came to a stop outside her room. Coop stared at the door, wondering for a moment if he had enough courage to walk inside. He’d been handed some rough assignments as a SEAL, but he couldn’t remember one as tough as this.

  “I’ll, uh, I’ll be down the hall in the waiting room,” Mo said awkwardly. “I’ve, uh, been spending the nights there, so if you need me...”

  Coop nodded, reaching for the handle of the door. He felt a little like a prisoner about to face the firing squad rather than a husband about to see his wife.

  He could have waited, could have walked away and put this off until the morning, but that only would have delayed the inevitable. Besides, when it came to Kelsey, he’d never been able to walk away, never been able to put a hold on his feelings. He’d promised to play a part from his past for the sake of her future, and once it was over, it would be Kelsey doing the walking—away from him again.

  The door quietly drifted closed behind him. The room was dark—too dark after the bright lights of the hall—and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. Coop stood in the darkness, listening to the quiet hum of equipment and machinery from somewhere in the shadows, feeling apprehension grow thick and dry in his throat.

  Objects in the room began to slowly take shape, transforming out of the gloom like an image in a photographer’s darkroom emerging on a print in a chemical tray. He could see two hospital beds, one empty, one partially obscured by a curtain that had been drawn around it. A small light showed from inside the curtain, creating a delicate radiance that glowed in a soft circle along the cloth.

  Coop felt the apprehension in his throat growing as he stared at that faint, dim light, knowing Kelsey lay just on the other side. He’d spent the last two years trying to forget her, trying to stop himself from thinking of her as his wife. Yet now all that would have to change. He would have to ignore the years that had passed, overlook all that had been said and done and pretend it was the way it used to be—at least until she remembered.

  He moved silently across the room, but his legs felt leaden and numb. The hard rubber soles of his boots sounded bleak and hollow against the floor’s slick surface.

  What would she see when she looked at him? What reaction would he trigger? Would those sleeping memories suddenly be awakened? Would she remember everything and send him on his way, or would she look at him and see her husband?

  He thought of their life together, of the hundreds of little details and half-forgotten customs and patterns that had made up their four years of marriage. Would he remember enough? Did he remember what it felt like to be her husband?

  He tried to ready himself, tried to get into the right frame of mind, to psyche himself up. He was going to see her again, and he had to be prepared—but when he stepped around the curtain and looked into the face of the woman who once had been his wife, he realized he hadn’t prepared himself enough.

  Surrounded by pillows, Kelsey lay sleeping peacefully to the quiet drone of the monitors and machines that were positioned around her bed like sentries on guard. Her long, blond hair splayed out across the pillows like a golden halo around the face of an angel. And that’s how she looked—angelic. She looked as he remembered her, like Kelsey, his Kelsey, beautiful and familiar.

  She looked like his wife.

  He stood at the foot of the bed, watching her sleep and feeling life returning to those parts of him that had been dead for two long years. Memories assailed him from all sides, spanning the spectrum of human emotion from hurt to healing, happy to sad. A million tiny snippets traveled through his brain like pictures in a photo album, bringing back a life and a love he’d thought were lost to him forever. She was like an oasis in the desert, like the sun after a long winter night, and for the first time in two years, he felt he was where he was meant to be.

  He slowly moved around the bed, weaving his way through the monitors, taking care not to wake her. He reached for a chair beside the bed, slid it close and sat down. He welcomed the quiet moment, welcomed the opportunity to study her.

  He could see the evidence of injury along her forehead and cheek, could see the outline of the heavy cast that encircled her leg. A large bruise marred the delicate skin above her brow, and a number of small cuts and scrapes had left her cheek and arms marked and discolored. His heart twisted tight in his chest as he thought of the trauma she’d been through, of the tons of concrete and rubble that had buried her alive.

  Children. Mo had told her she’d been in that collapsed building trying to help children. There wasn’t a doubt in Coop’s mind she would have given her life that day if it meant a child would have lived—no doubt at all.

  “Kelsey,” he whispered. He reached for her hand, slipping it into his. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

  And he was sorry—sorry about so much. He wasn’t a man given to tears, and the stinging sensation in his eyes felt strange and unfamiliar. He felt like crying for all the hurt and the pain he’d been unable to protect her from.

  “Coop? Cooper?”

  At the sound of her voice, his heart lurched in his chest, ramming violently against his rib cage. “Right here,” he whispered, squeezing her hand tight. “I’m right here.”

  But there was no response. She’d only been mumbling in her sleep, calling out from a dream, unaware he was there.

  He settled back in the chair, slowly stroking her hand and giving his heart a chance to find its normal rhythm again. There would be time later to talk, to start the playacting. For now, it was enough to sit there, to watch her chest rise and fall with life and to know she was all right.

  She stirred. Her head shifted back and forth on the pillows, and her nose twitched. Before Coop could react, before his heart could beat or his pulse jump, he found himself looking into her sleepy blue eyes.

  “Coop?” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Hi, babe,” he said, reaching out and running a finger along her cheek.

  Babe. He’d forgotten he used to call her that.

  “Oh, Coop,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached up, slipping a hand around his finger, and her eyes glistened bright with tears. “Coop, tell me it’s really you, tell me I’m not just dreaming again.”

  “It’s me,” he whispered, watching as his fingers naturally interlocked with hers. Seeing the emotion in her sweet face, hearing it in her voice had tears smarting in his eyes.

  “Oh, Coop.” She reached out, pulling on his sleeve and causing him to shift from the chair to the side of the bed. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “I’m glad, too,” he whispered, finding it a little unsettling how easy it was to slip into the role of her husband. “You gave me quite a scare.”

  “Oh, Coop.” She sighed, pulling him close. “I love you so much.”

  Her declaration had been as honest as it had been sudden, and it made him feel sick inside. If her doctors had thought the mere sight of him would jolt her memory into place, they’d been sorely mistaken. This was a woman in love with her husband, and she had no qualms about telling him so.

  “Kelsey,” he said, feeling more like a traitor than a friend trying to help. She looked so soft, so vulnerable, and the lie felt so ugly inside him.

  “Hold me, Coop,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his. “Hold me tight.”

  “Kelsey,” he mumbled agai
n, his pulse throbbing hard and fierce in his neck. She was so close he could feel the softness of her breath along his cheek. He felt himself catapulted back in time, to when she was his wife and the most natural thing in the world had been to comfort and to hold her.

  “I missed you so much,” she murmured against his mouth. “I love you.”

  Almost instinctively, he found himself responding as she pushed her mouth to his. The kiss was warm and sweet—almost chaste, but it sent a jolt of emotion through him that had every nerve in his body reacting.

  “God, Kelsey,” he said with a raw voice. Her lips were warm and wet, and the taste of her moved through his system like a rocket to the heart. He had agreed to pretend, agreed to go through the motions of being a devoted husband again, but a part of him had never let go, a part of him had never been able to sever the bond they once had shared. “I...I love you, too.”

  He kissed her this time—a long, tender kiss fraught with all the emotion churning around inside him. He’d known the charade would be difficult, but he realized now it was not for the reasons he thought. Playing the part of her husband was surprisingly easy. The hard part was remembering he was acting.

  “Let me look at you,” she said finally, pushing him away. She surveyed his face carefully.

  Coop felt every muscle in his body grow tense as she cupped his cheeks with her hands and slowly perused his face. Would she notice something different? Would she realize he didn’t look quite the same?

  “You look exhausted,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing the tender area beneath his eyes. “I’ll bet you haven’t slept in days.”

  Coop released a long sigh, his body relaxing. “It’s been a while,” he admitted. “But you’re the one who needs rest.” He settled her against the pillows again. “Go back to sleep.”

  “I don’t want to sleep, all I do is sleep,” she murmured. “Besides, I don’t want you disappearing on me again.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, brushing her hair from her face. “You’re stuck with me.”