Unbreak This Heart

by Betty Shreffler

  “The accident happened on Morris Avenue. Do you know anyone who works or lives around there?”

  My hand goes to my mouth as I gasp. The light in the room suddenly seems blinding, the air thick. I lose sense of direction and barely feel Kevin’s hand touch my arm.

  “She’s about to faint. Get a nurse.” I hear someone say.

  ***

  The cool glass of water in my hands does nothing to soothe my dry throat. Across the table, Officer Carnes awaits my answer. We’re alone in a borrowed room of the hospital. He insisted on speaking with me as soon as the nurse checked my stats and gave me the clear.

  “And it was Mr. Livingston who shoved you into the coffee table, causing the injury to your face and shoulder?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you be willing to let me take pictures of your injuries for evidence?”

  The memories of the last time an officer asked me that sends chills down my spine.

  “Yes.”

  “And you believe Mr. Maxwell went to Morris Avenue to confront Mr. Livingston about your altercation?”

  “Yes. As I stated before, that’s where Todd works. His office building is there. Carter must have gone to talk to him.”

  Officer Carnes’ face contorts into an expression of sympathy as he watches me wipe stray tears off my face.

  “It’s all my fault this happened. If I hadn’t opened the door and let Todd in, he wouldn’t have hurt me, and Carter never would’ve gone to confront him.”

  Officer Carnes closes his notebook and leans back in the chair, meeting my gaze.

  “Miss DeMarco, I’ve been doing this job for over ten years. I’ve seen many horrible things and more times than I can count, I’ve seen women blame themselves for things that happened that were completely out of their control. You can’t see the future, nor can you control what another human will do. Don’t blame yourself. It’s a guilt too strong for any one person to carry.” His smile, even though it’s brief, is comforting.

  “Please wait here. I’m going to call a crime tech to come to the hospital and take photos of your injuries and Mr. Maxwell’s.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  —

  ALEX

  It’s two days later and I fearfully walk into the hospital. After breaking down and telling Sandy and Kevin everything that happened, I expected them to be furious, to blame me and tell me to stay away from Carter, but they didn’t. They comforted me through my tears, listened to everything and insisted I come back today.

  As I pass through the sterile halls, I’m more aware of the sounds and smells of the hospital than before. I notice the multitude of staff and how busy they are rushing from one place to the next. Reaching the elevator, I press the button to Carter’s floor. I’m incredibly eager to see him, talk to him, show him how grateful I am that he’s alive.

  The elevator dings and I step off onto his floor. Making my way to his room, I stop just outside of it when I hear the doctor and Sandy talking.

  “How long do you think this will last?” I hear Sandy ask.

  “It’s hard to say. It can be a temporary effect from the head trauma or it could be permanent. It’s something we’ll have to monitor. For now, bring him photos and things that are a part of his life, talk about memories, but most importantly, be patient with him, explain who you are to him, and try not to get upset when he can’t remember. It will cause further stress and confusion to his brain.”

  A lump forms in my throat. Turning into his room, my eyes go directly to him and the heart monitor next to his bed. Asleep, he looks peaceful, but my stomach churns at the bandage on his head and the bruised and broken skin on his face and arm.

  Approaching the bed slowly, I fight back the distressing tears. Sliding my hand beneath his, I stare at him, unable to fully absorb all that has happened. All that I’ve just heard.

  “He’s lost his memory?” The words are barely more than a whisper.

  “I’m sorry to say, he has. We don’t know yet if it’s permanent.”

  “When he wakes up, he’ll have no idea who I am?”

  “Unfortunately, no. He’ll remember what things are, what they’re used for, but the part of his brain that processes the emotional connection to memories and retrieves them has suffered trauma.”

  My eyes pinch close as I bring his hand to my lips. Kissing it, I long for this to all be a bad dream. The tears I’ve cried endlessly for two days pour down my cheeks. It’s an agony as painful as my assault. The man I love has no memory of what I mean to him.

  Sandy comes to my side, rubbing my back. “I know, sweetheart, I know how much it hurts. He didn’t know who I was when I came in his room this morning. He was frightened. The doctor gave him something to relax him.”

  “I encourage you all to continue to visit, but we need to ease him into it. It’s best he’s not overwhelmed. To him, you’re all strangers. He doesn’t understand the emotional connection you each have with him. I’ll arrange for a therapist to meet with him. She’s very good, she’s a friend of mine who works here at the hospital. She’ll be able to help him transition and cope with the unfamiliarity of his environment.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Keller.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to help your son recover. He’ll wake up soon. Be prepared to introduce yourselves.”

  Doctor Keller quietly slips out to attend to his other patients. His tall frame leaves my peripheral, but I never take my eyes off Carter. Caressing his cheek, I lean in and kiss him, fully aware this is the only time I’ll be able to steal a moment of the Carter I know and the man who loves me.

  Carter stirs, and I ease my hand out of his and quickly wipe my tears from my cheeks. Sandy does the same and we both take several steps back from his bed.

  Grimacing, his eyes open. He reaches for the water next to his bed and I move to get it for him. His eyes lock on mine. Studying me, he reads my face, the same way he always has.

  “I’m Alex,” I say, handing the cup to him.

  Tipping the glass to his lips, he lowers it and stares at me and Sandy.

  “I know both of you, don’t I?”

  “Yes, I’m your mother, Sandy, and Alex is your girlfriend.”

  Gaze steady on me, his expression is unreadable, but his blue eyes spark as he looks at me.

  “I imagine this is awkward for you, being told complete strangers are your family and friends. I have a few pictures on my phone if you’d like to see them. For entertainment purposes, at least.”

  The corner of his mouth lifts. “I wouldn’t mind seeing them.”

  Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I swipe the screen and find the pictures. Stepping closer to the bed, I hold the phone out for him to see.

  Taking my phone from my hand, his fingers graze mine, and I force myself to shove my leaping emotions back down.

  Swiping right, he looks through my pictures. He studies them with the same look of concentration as he did me.

  “We look really happy together. Are we?”

  “Very,” Sandy replies. “Happiest I’ve seen you with a woman.”

  My head lowers and I try so hard not to cry.

  Raising his hand, he offers the phone back. “I can see you’re hurting. I’m sorry I can’t remember you. I wish I did.”

  “It’s okay, don’t feel guilty. Please. I don’t want you to feel bad when you see me. If you don’t mind, I’d like to come visit you often, let you get to know me…again.”

  His baby blues roam over my face, studying me again, seeming to take in every detail about me. “I’d like that.”

  Relief fills me from head to toe. Behind us, the sound of Kevin’s heavy footsteps enters the room.

  “Bro, you’re awake. About time.”

  Carter’s face tenses. He looks at Kevin, startled—in his mind, he’s seeing him for the first time. Kevin observes Carter’s uncomfortable expression and goes silent.

  “Kevin, step out with me. I need to talk with you.”

  �
�Sure, Ma.”

  The door closes behind them and Carter’s gaze switches from the door to me. “That’s my brother, huh?”

  “Yeah, you two are…were super close. He’s a year older than you and weighs probably twice as much as you.”

  The corners of Carter’s eyes crease when he chuckles. “He is a big dude.” Attention returned to me, his mouth twists. “Alex?” He pauses, as if afraid he doesn’t have the right name.

  “Yeah?” His expression relaxes when I respond.

  “How long have we been together?”

  “A couple months, but I think we both feel like it’s been longer.”

  “My family seems to really like you.”

  “I adore them. Your family is wonderful. They accepted me with open arms and have treated me with nothing but kindness.”

  “What about your family? They like me?”

  “My family consists of my best friend, Jane and her husband, Kyle. My mother passed away six years ago. My father remarried and moved to the UK. I have a sister, but we haven’t spoken to each other in years.”

  “Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “We dealt with my mother’s death in very different ways. I stayed by my mother’s side and my sister came to see her in hospice twice. She’s a lot like my father. They run from their emotions.”

  “You miss her?”

  Talking with Carter is easy. I step closer to his bed and lean on the edge. His body language indicates he doesn’t mind.

  “I do sometimes. There are times I wonder how she’s doing. If she’s gotten married, had kids.”

  “Do you have any…kids?”

  I shake my head. “Never married, no kids.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

  I chuckle. “Maybe you should guess first.”

  “You’re stunning. I’m guessing you’re older than you actually look. You’re in shape, clearly take care of your body. Mmm, twenty-six?”

  “Close, I’m twenty-eight.”

  Carter laughs to himself. “I have no idea when my birthday is. How old am I?”

  “You’re thirty. Your birthday is March eleventh.”

  “What’s the date today?”

  “June fourteenth.”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “May eleventh.”

  “Our birthdays are on the same day?”

  I laugh at the astonished look on his face. “They are. Different months, same days.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “I work for a company called Kevlar and Kline. They make the bulletproof vests for law enforcement. I’m their operations specialist. I handle their contracts with clients.”

  “That’s a great job.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What do I do?”

  “A few things. You work at a gym as an instructor and personal trainer. You teach kickboxing, self-defense classes, and more. You also have a contract as an MMA fighter.”

  “Wow, MMA, huh?” Carter looks down, examining his body. “I don’t think the MMA contract is going to work out. The doctor told me I’ve lost mobility in my right leg and have nerve damage from the car accident. Is that how you got the cut on your face? Were you injured in the accident too?”

  My head drops, and I struggle to find the right words.

  “Alex, don’t answer that. I can see that topic hurts you to talk about.”

  “I’m so sorry, Carter.”

  The tears unleash, and my fear forces me to run, rushing out of the room, afraid of causing him any added stress.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  —

  CARTER

  When the woman, Sandy, my mother told me Alex was my girlfriend it was a strange feeling, but I didn’t dislike the news. One look at her and I was smitten, memory or not. She’s gorgeous and sweet and I could tell she has a sense of humor beneath the sorrow. When she ran out, I didn’t like seeing her go, but I understand this is hard for her in an entirely different way than it is for me. I don’t know her, but she knows me better than I know myself.

  Kevin, my brother, told me she’s been through a lot and that she’s taking my accident the hardest out of everyone. I asked why, but he kept it vague, not diving into detail. It seems no one wants to say much about my accident except the doctor. Maybe it’s still too hard for them to talk about.

  I haven’t seen Alex in two days, but I’ve thought about her. I can’t help wondering when she’ll come back or if she’ll ever come back.

  After meeting with a therapist, I got a better understanding of how to cope with the overwhelming emotions of my family and friends. She encouraged me to ask questions, start a journal, and note anything I feel is important. She suggested I view everything new as an opportunity to discover things about myself. We started with something simple, coffee and tea. I drank both and discovered I’m a fan of tea as long as it’s got honey in it.

  My family has brought photographs in and a few memorabilia items like my bike helmet. Kevin says I love that bike more than a man should. He’s a jokester, I like that about him. Talking to him is effortless. He knows a lot about my past and answers my endless barrage of questions without complaint.

  Another man, Kyle, stopped in. Says he’s my best friend, besides Kevin. He’s got a pretty wife who kept looking at me like I was a fascinating science project. She didn’t stay long which left time for Kyle and me to get reacquainted. He knows Alex well. Had a lot of nice things to say about her. I asked him where she was, and he said she was struggling to cope with some things and needed some time. She’s been staying at his and Jane’s place. I learned she was moving in with me just before the accident. Kyle said she stayed at my house last night.

  After he left, I laid in bed wondering what my house looks like, how Alex felt being there alone. It’s an odd sensation having guilt for another person’s pain you barely know, but I saw it in her eyes when she looked at me that first day. There was a longing there that pulled at me, drew me in, and left its imprint behind.

  A rustle at my door opens my eyes and draws my attention. Alex stands in the threshold, with an iPod in hand. Her chocolate hair is down and wavy, her makeup fresh. The mark on her face is barely visible. She looks beautiful in her green top and dark fitted jeans.

  “Can I come in?”

  Sitting up, I smile at the light I see in her emerald eyes. She’s in a better mood and I’m happy to see that.

  “I brought you your iPod. You use it when you’re working out. I added some more music I know you like. I thought you might like to have it.”

  Taking the iPod from her hand, I smile appreciatively. “Thank you. I would.”

  The faded red chair by the window scrapes across the floor as she drags it closer to the bed.

  “You doing ok?” I ask, genuinely concerned.

  “Better than the last time you saw me,” she replies, wringing her hands together. “I took some time to get a handle on my emotions. I’m sorry I ran out on you.”

  “Don’t apologize. I understand this is difficult for you.”

  “Not as difficult as it is for you. Everything is new, unfamiliar, and strange.”

  “It is hard, but you’ve all been patient and let me ask questions and get to know everyone without making me feel bad for not remembering. The therapist has been helpful too. I met with her yesterday.”

  “I’m really happy to hear that talking with her helped. I want to do anything I can to make things easier on you. I cleaned your house, thoroughly, yesterday. I wanted it to be nice for when you’re released from the hospital.”

  She doesn’t know it’s going to be awhile before I’m released, and the question springs to mind whether I’ll want to honor my previous arrangement of having her live with me. As much as I’m attracted to her, I’d like time to get acquainted with my life and who I am without the added stress of trying to be the man she remembers.

  Her gaze drops to her lap. The awkward tension p
asses between us. If I remembered her, would she be closer, affectionately touching me, kissing me?

  “How comfortable are we in our relationship?”

  With a minute change in her expression, her thoughts appear to scatter.

  “As in…like…sex?”

  I can’t help smiling at the flush to her cheeks. “Yeah.”

  Pinching her lip between her teeth, she thinks of how to respond. Putting her on the spot like this is entertaining me a little too much.

  “We’re intimate with one another.”

  Tension rushes to my groin. I can’t help wondering if sex with her is as amazing as I imagine it to be.

  “Would you mind doing something for me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Being in this bed, I’m pretty stiff all over. Would you mind rubbing my shoulders a bit? I’d ask a nurse, but honestly, I’d be more comfortable if you did it.”

  That last part brightens her eyes and gives me a glimpse of that gorgeous smile of hers.

  “Is it ok for you to sit up like that?”

  “Yeah, the doctor said he did an interlaminar implant between my lower vertebrae. It’s some kind of u-shaped device he put in to put space between the vertebrae. They were smashed together in the accident. It’s good for me to move, but it’s painful. I’ll be starting physical therapy in a week or so to help strengthen the muscles in my lower back and work on getting better movement.”

  She sits on the edge of my bed, her expression filled with concern.

  “What about your leg?”

  “Doctor thinks the trauma to my spinal cord has caused the loss of muscle control and sensation. He’s not so sure I’ll get function back in my leg, but I’m not taking that as an answer.”

  Her troubled eyes glisten with the sheen of oncoming tears, but her lips crease ever so slightly.

  “That’s just like you not to accept defeat.”

  “So I hear.”

  Instinctively, I raise my hand and gently swipe at the stray tear that escapes her pretty green eyes.