I arrive at the hospital to find Ava’s doctor speaking with the head nurse. She nods, he nods, she speaks, he speaks, she frowns, he frowns.
‘Everything okay?’ I ask as I near.
‘We were just going to call you.’
I’m instantly worried. ‘Why?’ I look across to Ava’s room, seeing her sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed and waiting, her fingers spinning her wedding ring.
‘Your wife was getting a little restless.’ He smiles fondly. ‘I told her I’d chase you up.’
‘I’m sorry, the children are going away with their grandparents,’ I tell him, watching as Ava looks up and spots me. I smile mildly, getting one in return. This is so weird, and the weirdness doesn’t seem to be lessening one iota. ‘I had to make sure they had everything they needed.’ I return my attention to the doctor.
‘The children are going away?’ he asks, making it sound like I’m sending them away. It has my hackles rising, though I fight to rein myself in. I don’t need anyone questioning my decision as their father, or as Ava’s husband.
‘They need some time out from this madness,’ I explain, diplomatic and calm, though it takes everything out of me. ‘And if I’m going to help Ava remember us, I need to go back to the beginning of our story.’
‘Your story?’
I laugh under my breath. ‘Yes, our story. Let’s just say it would make a cracking novel.’ My hand sweeps through my hair. ‘We’re not your average couple, doc.’ I sigh, thinking how best to word it so he has a chance of understanding. He’d need to know us to understand. He’d need to have seen what we’ve been through. ‘When I met my wife, it was like an atomic bomb went off in my chest.’ I avoid mentioning that it felt like an atomic bomb went off in my trousers, too. It’s inappropriate. ‘It was like a part of my soul fused with a part of hers, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was the most incredible feeling.’ I look back into the room and find Ava’s still staring at me. ‘Unforgettable,’ I whisper, watching her eyes fall to my lips. ‘Which makes this all the more difficult to accept, because how could she forget? Us. The intensity of our relationship and everything we’ve been through together?’ I tear my gaze away from the woman who holds my life in her hands and return my attention to the doctor. ‘I’m scared to fucking death that those memories are gone for ever.’
He smiles like he understands, but he really doesn’t. No one possibly could. ‘You’ll make new memories.’
I shake my head. ‘Nothing can replace them.’
He nods this time, not countering me. ‘Here are the details of Ava’s appointment.’ He hands me an envelope. ‘We removed the dressing on her head this morning. It’s healing nicely, but keep it clean. The same with her leg. You have my number, Mr Ward. Anything that might be worrying you, just call.’
I take it and move past him, heading towards Ava’s room. My body is heavy. It feels like I could be walking against a gale-force wind, the relentless gusts not only holding my body back, but catching in my throat, too, making breathing harder.
When I enter, I stand like a statue for a few seconds, at a loss for what comes next. ‘Bag,’ I blurt, rushing over to get it from beside her. ‘Are you okay to walk?’ Any other day, I’d have picked her up without a word, whether she liked it or not. Quite frankly, all this asking is fucking alien. And I hate it.
She pushes herself up off the bed a little gingerly, and my instinct kicks in. I drop the bag immediately, desperate to ease Ava’s struggle and help her to her feet.
She clings to me with both hands, one on each of my forearms as she straightens. I don’t know whether it’s because she needs to, or wants to. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t ever thank me for looking after you, Ava.’ I don’t mean to sound affronted, but it’s unavoidable. ‘You are my wife. It’s what I’ve been put on this earth to do.’
She looks up at me, a small frown crossing her forehead, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for her to tell me she remembers something – remembers me saying that before, because I know for damn sure I have. Or any recollection, no matter how small or insignificant she thinks it is. But when she shakes her head, I realise it’s not coming.
I sigh deeply and get us moving, slowly but surely, constantly checking her for any signs of pain, or that this little trip is too much. She’s focused forward, concentrating hard on the simple task of putting one foot in front of the other. It’s so painful to watch her struggle. I can’t do it.
I swing around to the nurses’ station. ‘Are there any fucking wheelchairs around here?’
The nurse scans the area, clearly panicked. I can’t even bring myself to feel bad. ‘They’re all taken at the moment, sir. But if you don’t mind waiting, I will try to track one down.’
‘Don’t bother, I’ll fucking carry her.’ Turning back to Ava, I find round, startled eyes. ‘I’m carrying you,’ I inform her, just out of courtesy, dipping and gently lifting her into my arms. She doesn’t protest, which is a good job because I’m not watching her limp out of here.
She’s studying me as I stride down the hall, probably assessing how tight my jaw is. I try to relax it, try to ease my strung muscles. I feel like I could explode with stress. With hope. With despair.
Up ahead, a pair of double doors swings open, a gurney being pushed out by a porter. And on the bed, a body, the face covered by a white sheet. I find my feet slowing and my eyes putting Ava there. On that bed. Dead.
My blood runs cold.
‘Jesse?’
I jolt and look down to find my wife looking up at me with concern. I quickly shake away my morbid thoughts of what could have been. She’s still here. With me. She might not be her normal self, but she’s still here. I hold her tighter. I can’t help it. ‘Come on, let’s get you home.’
‘Home.’ She sighs, turning her eyes away from me. ‘Where is that again?’
‘Anywhere I am,’ I say, letting my usual candidness where my wife’s concerned creep back. Is she smiling a little? ‘Okay?’ I ask, not wanting to presume she’s finding me funny, or maybe recognising little pieces of us. But what else could she be smiling at?
‘You seem like the bossy type.’
I laugh out loud, the burst of amusement completely unstoppable. ‘You have no idea, lady. No idea.’
‘I don’t like being told what to do, just so you know.’
‘Oh, I know.’ I laugh again, feeling a small amount of pressure lifting from my shoulders. Only small, but . . . still. I look down and unleash my smile, the one I reserve only for her, the one she’s not seen since she came around. It definitely has the desired effect, her body going a little lax in my arms. It’s another small sign. ‘And just so you know, that’ll soon change.’
She scoffs. It’s the sweetest sound, even if it’s forced. ‘I don’t think so.’
My smile widens, because that right there was my wife. Defiant. Difficult.
Mine.
Hope flourishes within me.