A cast. Her arm was in a cast. God, what happened to her?
Parting her lips, she tried to speak but her throat was so dry. She rasped her tongue against her upper lip, swallowed hard and then croaked, “Vince.”
They weren’t listening to her, though. Her husband was too busy arguing with the doctor, expressing his worry that his wife wasn’t receiving the best possible care.
“Vince. Please.” She cracked open her eyes to find the two men standing at the foot of her bed, deeply engrossed in their conversation. The doctor had a white coat on and wore glasses. He looked like a typical doctor. Her husband was dressed in jeans and a wrinkled white button-down shirt, the sleeves shoved up his forearms, his expression full of despair. His face was covered with shadowy dark stubble and there were circles under his eyes.
He looked both wonderful and terrible all at once.
“Hello,” she whispered. Her throat hurt it was so dry and she could hardly talk. The beeping on the monitor began to speed up—mirroring her frustration, no doubt—and she closed her eyes, trying her best to work up the will to speak louder.
“Wait a minute.” The doctor paused and she felt him draw closer. “Mrs. Renaldi? Can you hear me?”
Another rustle of clothing and someone took her left hand. She recognized his touch anywhere. “Amber. Sweetheart. Wake up.”
She opened her eyes once more to find Vince standing there, her hand in his. His eyes widened as he glanced up and met the doctor’s gaze for a brief moment before returning his attention to her. “Hi,” she whispered. It hurt to speak. It almost hurt to see. She wanted to close her eyes. She needed quiet. Everything felt so bright and loud.
The smile that broke out on his face, though, was beautiful. “You’re awake.”
“Where am I? What happened to me?” She tried to look around but the movement hurt her head too much.
Vince opened his mouth, ready to speak but the doctor interrupted him. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Renaldi?”
“My head is fuzzy.” She ignored the dirty looks her husband gave the doctor. “And my arm…” She tried to lift it but failed. The cast was so heavy, she wondered if it was made out of concrete.
“You were hit by a car,” the doctor said, his voice soft and calm. “We were worried about you. You’ve been in a coma for almost three days.”
Shock coursed through her. “Three days?” She couldn’t believe it. How could that be? She didn’t remember getting hit by a car or whatever he said. Yes, her body felt stiff and sore, but a car accident? And a coma?
“I’ve been worried sick.” Vince knelt by her side of the bed, bringing her hand to his mouth so he could press a kiss to her knuckles. A shiver moved through her at the first touch of his lips. “I sat by your hospital bed this entire time. I couldn’t leave your side.”
“I’m so sorry I worried you.” She stared into his familiar brown eyes, her heart overflowing with love when she saw the relief that flooded his gaze. “Were you with me when I was hit by the car? Were you hit too?”
He frowned, looking confused. “You don’t remember?”
Amber slowly shook her head. “Not—not at all.”
“The human brain has a way of protecting itself by blocking out traumatic experiences,” the doctor explained. “Perhaps that’s what happened to you, Mrs. Renaldi.”
“I suppose so,” she said, closing her eyes, shutting out the doctor, the room, the low beeping sound and, regretfully, her husband.
“Amber.” Vince squeezed her hand but she wouldn’t open her eyes. She was so tired. She spoke for maybe five minutes if that and she was exhausted. “Do you remember what happened before the car hit you?”
“I don’t even remember where we were or…what we were doing.” Her voice faded, as did her mind and she lay there, drifting off. It felt nice, floating in the clouds. Took her away from the pain and the confusion and the sadness she could hear in her husband’s voice.
“Sir, I advise against pushing your wife at this moment,” the doctor urged. “Let her rest. The brain is a delicate thing. She might remember more, and then again she might not. Give her some time. Be patient with her.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Vince asked.
“Only time will tell,” the doctor answered just before she drifted off into oblivious sleep.
Maybe Vince didn’t want his wife to remember what happened right before she was hit. He knew he sure as hell didn’t want to remember what happened between them either, but unfortunately, the memory hung right in front of his eyes, a taunting daily reminder.
Their argument, his stubbornness, had driven her directly into the path of a speeding car. She could’ve died. And it would’ve been all his fault.
Bad enough her arm was broken and her face marred. Her beautiful, gorgeous face…the cut across her cheek would scar, the plastic surgeon had told him yesterday. They could try to operate on it, but most likely that scar would never fully go away.
The scariest thing was the possibility of brain damage. The idea that Amber would never be the same again, that she might not be able to function normally…worried him. He would always stand by her side. He loved her. She was his wife. He had to believe she was just fine.
Just. Fine.
Her modeling career was most likely ruined, though. Again, all of it was his fault. She would hate him for this. Might never forgive him either. She’d been so angry when they argued. And then that anger had turned into resolve. Like she’d known exactly what was best for their relationship and he had no say in the matter whatsoever.
And what she wanted was a divorce. She’d flayed his chest wide open with those words. He still couldn’t believe she said it. Had no idea she’d even contemplated such a drastic end to their short-lived marriage.
When she’d finally awakened, the relief he’d felt had been overwhelming. She’d seemed so confused, so lost yet so incredibly happy to see him, he’d been thrown. He figured she’d be furious with him.
But she acted like nothing was wrong. Like she was relieved to see him.
He’d escaped the room after dropping a kiss to her forehead, surprised to find her already breathing deep in sleep. He lingered out in the hall, waiting for the doctor to emerge and when he did, Vince went to him, full of questions.
Dr. Gilmore held up his hands, stopping Vince’s barrage of questions. “I don’t have the answers yet. We need to give her more time, Mr. Renaldi.”
Time. That scared him. He was afraid to give her time. The more she had, the more she could remember and then he didn’t know what would happen.
But he knew it wouldn’t be good.
“I don’t understand,” Vince said, frustration making his words come out sharper than he first intended. “Why doesn’t she remember anything? Is this normal? Could something be wrong with her brain that she would lose her memory?”
“As I said to your wife, her lack of memory when it comes to the accident could be a way of her brain protecting itself. The mind is a wondrous and mysterious thing. It does things that the medical profession often question, but we sometimes don’t find an answer.”
Vince wanted to call bullshit but he restrained himself. He knew yelling at Amber’s doctor would get him nowhere. “Are you saying she has some sort of amnesia?”
“Possibly. She only spoke to us for a few minutes so we can’t be sure. Next time she wakes up, she might remember everything,” the doctor said.
Dread filled Vince’s gut. That was the last thing he wanted. At least, not yet. He needed time to prepare. To convince Amber that getting a divorce was the last thing they should do. “Is it okay for her to sleep?”
God, he couldn’t stand it if that happened. The last three days had been some of the worst of his life. He’d never left her side, he’d hardly slept or ate. Had no idea how he was standing and talking like a normal human being when all he wanted to do was find a comfortable bed and relax.
But he couldn’t. Not yet. He needed to ensure Amber was on
the mend.
“We checked her vitals and they’re strong. Normal. We’ll do a CAT scan on her tomorrow to monitor her brain activity.” The doctor smiled, clutching his clipboard in front of him. “I’ve seen this sort of thing before. Your wife will need lots of rest so she can recuperate properly.”
“I’ll make sure she does,” Vince said with a nod. “I swear.”
“Her face…I know she’s a model.” Dr. Gilmore frowned. “I hope she’ll be okay when she sees the wound. Sometimes that sort of thing…when someone is injured and it affects their livelihood, it can have an adverse affect on their mental stability. It’s best if she not look in a mirror quite yet. We don’t want to upset her any further. Her mind is in a delicate state at the moment.”
“I understand.” He didn’t want to upset Amber anymore than she already was. “We’ll keep her calm and quiet for the next few days.”
“Good.” The doctor smiled. “If you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Vince had what felt like a million more questions, but he kept quiet. He didn’t want to barrage the doctor and besides, most of his questions were the type that the doctor couldn’t answer.
Exactly when will my wife get her memory back?
Will she still want a divorce?
Will she hate me forever?
Yeah. Those were definitely questions that no one could answer.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he said instead, offering his hand out for a quick, firm shake. “I appreciate all that you’re doing for my wife.”
The moment the doctor walked away Vince’s phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket to find his sister, Stasia, was calling. “She’s awake,” he said as answer, striding toward the small waiting room that was on this floor of the hospital.
“Oh, Vince, I’m so glad.” The happiness in Stasia’s voice was unmistakable. He could always count on his sister. “I’m sure you’re relieved.”
“That’s an understatement.” He settled in a chair in the far corner of the room, not wanting to disturb anyone and not wanting any of the few stragglers in the room to overhear him. “She was awake for a few minutes but went right back to the sleep. The doctor said not to worry, though. Her vitals are strong and we hope she’ll be okay.”
“Good. This entire thing is so scary. I’ve been worried for you both.” Stasia paused, sounding hesitant when she finally spoke again. “Did she remember your argument?”
The only person who knew the truth of what really happened before Amber was hit was Stasia. He hadn’t told his brothers and he definitely hadn’t told his mother. The only person he could trust not to judge was Stasia. They were the closest growing up since they were only a few years apart and though they fought like cats and dogs when they were younger, they also took care of each other. Always.
“No. She seemed perfectly happy to see me,” he answered as he leaned back against the wall behind him and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. Damn, he needed some sleep. His brain felt sluggish, his thoughts turbulent and his reflexes slow.
“I’m sure she was! She’s just gone through such a traumatic experience. And you’re her husband. Despite all the trouble between you two, you know she still loves you,” Stasia said.
“And I love her.” Would that be enough to convince Amber they needed to be together? He wasn’t sure.
That was the part he hated the most. The doubt that lingered. He had no idea if she would turn on him or when.
“Then live one day at a time with Amber. Remind her why she fell in love with you in the first place. The two of you moved so fast…but I knew when I first met her that you two were madly in love,” Stasia said. “Take her back to that place. Make her feel special, wanted, loved. If you do that, how can she resist you?”
“You’re right,” Vince said, and Stasia immediately started to laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“You said I’m right, and you never say that. I need to revel in this.”
“Well, revel away, and know that I’m going to take your advice. I think it’s sound. I do need to remind Amber of why she fell in love with me.” And he needed to remember why he fell so head over heels in love with his wife.
He couldn’t wait to get started.
Chapter Seven
“So we’ve moved to New York? Together?” Amber glanced around the beautiful living room of the apartment she and Vince supposedly owned together. She didn’t remember getting it, so she had to take his word that it was theirs.
“We were discussing it. The family has an apartment we keep in the city for when one of us visits for business.” He held her close to his side, his arm loosely wrapped around her waist. “While you’ve been in the hospital, I went ahead and leased a place for the two of us. I hope you like it.”
“It’s beautiful.” One wall was nothing but windows, and the view of the city was spectacular. “I’m so glad you decided to join me here.”
It was one thing she remembered being a sticking point for them when they first married. Considering her career, she needed to be based in New York. And because he helped run the family business of Renaldi Accessories and it was based in Italy…yeah. She remembered being so caught up in the whirlwind of their romance and subsequent quickie marriage, she hadn’t given much consideration to their long-distance relationship until after the fact.
Now, though, it seemed that Vince had solved that particular problem.
“I wanted to be with my wife. I missed not having her around.” He kissed her forehead lightly. He’d been the perfect attentive husband while she remained in the hospital for almost two weeks recovering from her injuries. The hospital released her into Vince’s care and she’d gone home with her husband. A little over a month after the accident and she was so thankful for his being there for her. He’d been a rock during the difficult days.
And there had been many. She’d had surgery on her arm, and the pain and discomfort had been excruciating. When she discovered that the gash on her cheek was far worse than she first realized, she’d sobbed for days. Cried over her lost career, her injuries. She’d cried over her silly vanity that made her believe her life was over, which it so wasn’t.
Thank goodness she had Vince to lean upon, to talk to. He’d helped her through all of it. Listening when she needed it and offering words of wisdom when she wanted them, she’d found herself practically bouncing in her hospital bed when she knew he was coming to see her. Well, she’d bounced as much as she could, considering her injuries.
Thoughtful and kind, always defending her when she had a question for the hospital staff, he was protective and intelligent and passionate and so incredibly handsome. All of the qualities she first fell in love with were still there in her husband. But he didn’t touch her.
Oh, he told her he loved her and held her, but usually only to help her. She appreciated his assistance, his careful care and consideration of her wants and needs. She was mostly mobile, though, with the exception of her arm in a cast, which would remain there for at least another month. Still a bit weak and prone to quick exhaustion, but nothing major she couldn’t deal with.
She was thankful to be home. Well, in her new home. Maybe behind closed doors, and once Vince realized she was really healing, he would be more agreeable to touching her. Holding her, kissing her. She didn’t want passionate, throw-her-on-the-bed-and-shove-her-around lovemaking, though that certainly had its appeal. She just wanted…love.
And she wanted it from her husband.
“Tired?” he asked, his deep voice laced with concern. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes, breathing deep his familiar, intoxicating smell. “Do you want to go to bed?” His chest rumbled as he spoke and arousal trickled through her, warm and heady, but she forced it away. It was silly, how much she wanted her husband. Did he feel the same? Or was he over the honeymoon stage?
“It’s not even two o’clock,” she protested, rubbing her cheek against his chest once. Twice. He felt so good. Was so so
lid and strong.
“Let’s get you settled in somewhere, then.” He walked her over to a giant overstuffed chair in the living room and took her hand, carefully guiding her into the chair. He grabbed a throw blanket that was on the back of the couch and arranged it across her legs like she was some sort of little old grandma. “Want something to drink?” he asked as he handed her the TV remote.
She studied the remote, the many buttons she had no idea how to work. “Just some water, please.” Setting the remote in her lap, she leaned back against the chair, watching as her handsome husband hustled toward what she could only assume was the kitchen like some sort of dutiful nurse, ready to serve her.
God, she sounded ungrateful in her own mind, but she didn’t want a nurse. She wanted her husband. She didn’t want to sit alone in this chair—she wanted Vince cozied up right next to her. His fingers in her hair, her head nestled close to his neck so she could reach up and kiss him there. Right where he tasted best…
“Here you go.” He stood before her, a bottle of water held out to her, an anxious expression on his face. Had she ever seen him look like this before? Granted, they didn’t know each other that well, since they hadn’t been married long and their relationship had been kind of short, but still.
She didn’t want Vince tiptoeing around her. She knew he was worried and that’s why he treated her like she was made of glass. The amnesia threw him. He’d admitted that to her a few days ago.
Well, they were even in that regard. The amnesia threw her too.
Taking the water bottle from him, she tried to smile her best, brightest grin but it hurt her cheek so she gave up. “Will you sit with me?”
He frowned. “You want me to sit with you?”
“Vince.” She rolled her eyes, unable to fight the frustration any longer. “I missed you. I was scared in the hospital and you were the only one who grounded me. Who made me feel like everything really was going to be okay.”
“I’m glad.” He smiled, looking pleased.
“Yes, well, I also appreciated how careful you were with me, but…I’m almost fully recovered now.” She smiled again, this time a little softer, not quite so wide as she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “And I hope we can resume our…relationship, as it was before?”
Falling for Her Husband: The Renaldis, Book 3 Page 4
