“Marie?” Who was this man staring at me? Who was Marie? Was it me? He was looking at me like he knew me. He was attractive. Salt and pepper hair at his temples, a small beard, a dimple in his left cheek. His eyes—those eyes looked so sad. They were red-rimmed as if he’d been crying. That made no sense. How could he be crying? He didn’t seem like the type of man who would cry. No, based off of the motorcycle vest he wore, he appeared rugged and belonged on a motorcycle.

My hand was in his, and he was stroking it back and forth. Why was he touching me? I didn’t know him. I swiftly moved my hand away, jerking it from his grasp. He looked startled.

I looked around. Where was I? I didn't know this place. There were white walls, a window, a door, a machine next to me beeped. A hospital? I looked down at my hand the man was holding and saw an IV attached to me. What was going on? I was scared. I tried to use my voice, and a scratchy chirp came out. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Who are you?”

He sucked in a breath, “It’s me love, Mickey.” His eyes begged me to know him, but I didn’t. I had no clue who he was. That scared me even more.

“I... I don’t know you.” I stumbled over my words, and watched as Mickey grabbed his chest like I’d struck him. My chest felt tight and began to rise and fall rapidly. “I’m sorry,” I told him, hating the new look on his face, but feeling incredibly afraid. I gulped huge lungfuls of air; my fear felt like it was suffocating me.

“Breathe, Marie. I’m here. Everything is going to be alright. We’ll figure this out. Breathe, love. Breathe. Yer in the hospital. Yer okay, safe.”

I watched as he pressed a button and the nurse came in. “Oh, you’re up. Hi, I’m your nurse, Lindsey. You have a lot of people worried about you.”

I felt my hand tremble, but Mickey grabbed it, and stroked his thumb back and forth over the pad.

“She said she doesn't know me,” he told the nurse. The nurse flashed a light in my eyes. I tried to sit up, but my body hurt when I moved.

“I’m going to call the doctor. I’ll be back.”

“Is everything, okay? Why doesn't she know me?” he asked the nurse again.

“It’s too early to say; but she’s awake, and that’s more than we had an hour ago.”

“How long have I been here?” I asked once the nurse had left the room.

“It’s been a few days. You were shot.” I started to panic again.

“I made it so the man who hurt ye can't do that ever again.” He almost seemed menacing for a moment, but instead of feeling afraid of him, I felt comforted; yet had no idea who he was. Who I was? I was confused. The doctor came into the room. He had white hair and a long white coat with a stethoscope around his neck. He was a tad monotone when he said, “Glad to see you are awake. I’m Doctor Orlic. I’m the neurosurgeon on staff. Do you know your name?”

“Marie?” I answered with a question.

“I said it to her a few times,” Mickey told the doctor.

“How about the year?”

I looked up thinking, but couldn't come up with an answer.

“How about the President?”

I racked my brain. Did I? Did I know who the President was? “Reagan? No, that’s not right.” I began to feel frustrated and tears formed in my eyes.

“It’s okay. You’ve had an injury to your brain. I’d like to test your motor function.”

I spent the next several minutes lifting legs, wiggling toes, and squeezing fingers.

“Those are good, Marie. The brain is a tricky thing. Sometimes, memory loss can be a short-term thing. Sometimes, it can take years to recover, and sometimes you might permanently lose chunks of your memory depending on what part of the brain was damaged.”

“Will she know me? Know Talon?” Mickey asked the doctor.

“It’s hard to say. Talon’s young, and it may feel very difficult for her, if her mother doesn't know her. I’m going to have a social worker come down and help. We’ll get an occupational therapist in here, and since she is awake and her vitals look good, we will most likely move her from CCU to a Progressive Unit. Depending on how she does, we may need to place her in a nursing home.”

“No way. She’ll not be away from me.”

“Sir, you’re not her husband. You don't have any say.”

Mickey and the doctor argued, but I was stuck on something the doctor said. He said I had a daughter. I searched my memory and couldn't come up with much. How could I forget my daughter? How could this be happening?

I released Mickey’s hold on my hand, and reached up and touched the bandage around my head. As I moved, I felt dizzy and then a bout of nausea hit me.

“I’m gonna be sick,” I said just as the doctor handed me a bin. I didn't have much to throw up, but I felt nauseous anyway, so it was more like I dry heaved.

The doctor called the nurse in, and they pushed some anti-nausea medicine into my IV. I felt my eyes get heavy as if my bout of nausea had sucked any energy from me. I remember feeling Mickey kiss me on my head, and tell me he loved me. It was strange, I didn't know him, but when he touched me, there was something familiar about him.

When I awoke, a beautiful teenage girl with long, blonde, straight hair and big blue, red-rimmed eyes sat beside me. Mickey stood against the wall observing, and I got the impression that he was trying to be there for both of us.

Talon, that’s what he said her name was, I tried it out saying it out loud, “Talon.”

“It’s me, Mom. Do you recognize me? Do you know me? They said you had no memory, but you know me? Don't you?” She began to cry, and I reached out my hand and placed it on the side of her face.

“They told me your name. I want to remember you.”

I felt tears sting my eyes and a pang in my chest. Even if I didn't have memories of her, it was like my heart knew her, because it squeezed painfully in my chest.

“Talon, it’s okay. It might take time. We have to focus on the fact that she’s alive.” Mickey placed his hands on Talon’s shoulders. I didn’t know the man, but the way he supported my daughter also made my chest squeeze tight with emotion.

“He’s right. It’s okay, Mom. Even if you never remember how it was. You’re here. You’re alive. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

Talon stayed next to me, and cried for a little while. There was a knock on the door, and a striking brunette poked her head in.

“Can I come in?” Mickey gave a nod, and she entered the room. “Hi, Marie. I’m Maura, Mickey’s daughter.”

I looked at her and then at Mickey and could see the similarities, “You’re not mine too, are you?” That thought of forgetting another daughter scared the hell out of me. She laughed, “No, definitely not and you’re not old enough to be my mom.”

Right, I had no idea how old I was.

"But I’d much rather you think that I was your daughter than what you thought the first time I met you.”

I was curious, and she had a way about her that made me feel lighter making the air in the room also feel a little less heavy.

“Who did you think I was?”

“You thought I was Mickey’s wife.”

“I did?”

“She did?” Talon and I asked at the same time.

Maura smiled, “You did. And you were jealous.”

I looked at Mickey, and gave him a small grin. He was handsome. He caught my smile, and then said to Talon, “Look at that. She’s in there.”

I liked his praise but found myself yawning.

“Are ye tired, love?”

I just woke up and didn't want to sleep, but I was tired. I gave him a subtle nod.

“Maura, why don’t you take Talon to the hotel? Maybe she can shower and get some rest?”

“Of course.”

“I don't know. I’m not sure I should leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Take care of yourself,” I reassured Talon. Telling her it was okay for her to go seemed to lift a weight off of her shoulders. I didn't remember being a mom, but at the same time, it felt natural to ease her fears.

Maura bent low and hugged me. “It’s good to see you awake. The girls are going to want to say hi to you too, but I figure we’ll wait until you’re up to it.”

I nodded, even though I had no idea who the girls were. I watched as she kissed her dad on the cheek and waited for Talon.

Talon bent forward and kissed me. It was strange getting affection from people that you can’t recall, but knew loved you.

“Are you going to leave, too?” I asked Mickey, after Talon and Maura left.

“Do ye want me to?”

“I don't know,” I answered honestly.

“Alright, love. I’m going to stay, but I’m going to tell ye a story.”

I yawned. A story sounded nice.

“Once upon a time, there was a woman who married an evil man. He hurt her again and again, but she was strong. The fiercest woman. One night, after taking a bad beating, she took her daughter and ran away to a new place far away from the evil husband. She found herself building a life. She got a job, made a home, and met a man. A man who loved her with abandon. See, she did not want to tell him the details about her husband. Maybe she thought she was protecting him? He didn't know, but he tried to protect her. Only, he didn't know that the bad man was also a man from his past; a man who was dangerous and who was trying to take out people in his club by poisoning them with drugs. When the husband showed up, he made the man think that the woman he so desperately loved was betraying him, and the bad man took the fierce woman away.”

I was caught up in his story, even though my eyes felt heavy.

“The man’s heart was broken. When he heard a phone call that made him realize what a mistake it was to believe the evil husband, he came for his woman, and he killed her husband man, but he was too late. The bad man shot the woman.”

“Did she make it, Mickey? Did she survive?” I asked, yawning.

“She did. She might not have been exactly the same. But he loved her, and he had faith that she would love him. He had faith that their love was stronger than the damage her husband had done. He had faith that their love was stronger than anything, but especially stronger than this.” Mickey moved his hand around the hospital room.

“If you never remember, it’s alright. We’ve got a lot of years ahead of us.”

Mickey kissed my hand that he’d been holding.

I sighed, “Mickey?”

“Yes, love.”

“It has a happy ending?”

“Of course. The best love stories do, and ours is the best, love.”