“You don’t mean that.”
He places his hands on his hips and sighs. “I do mean it. I’d rather you not be here while I’m dealing with all of this. It confuses me.”
I nod, tears stinging my eyes. “Okay. I’ll pack a bag and stay at a hotel.”
I turn my back quickly because I don’t want him to see how much this hurts me. I can deal with injuries and the messiness of football but this? Having him lose his memory? It’s like breaking up all over again only worse. We’re married now. My chest burns from the pain of losing him, even if it’s temporary. Once I start down the hallway, my tears fall freely in a steady stream down my cheeks. By the time I reach our bedroom, I’m hysterical. Tears blur my vision as I stumble toward the bed and collapse.
This isn’t fair. None of this is fair. Maverick’s injury seems like an unjust punishment, even though concussions are a reality in football. But why did it have to happen so soon? Last week we were in bed, blissfully happy, and this week, we’re in a living nightmare without a way to wake up.
Eventually, the stream of tears slows to a trickle. I swipe at my wet cheeks before heading into the closet. Memory loss is unpredictable, so I have no idea how long before Maverick starts remembering the last few weeks. I pack enough for a week, hoping it’s all I’ll need.
As I place the last of my items in the suitcase, the sound of music filters into the room. It’s hard to determine what song Maverick is playing but it sounds familiar. I step out into the hall to listen. Elvis! Maverick is listening to Elvis. A smile spreads across my face and hope fills my heart. Is this a sign he remembers?
I bolt down the hallway, rushing toward the living room, eager to find out if his memories started to return.
Maverick sits on the couch dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts with his feet propped on the coffee table. The song playing over the surround sound speakers is definitely Elvis.
“Does this mean you remember?” I ask as I approach him carefully.
He looks up and shakes his head. “Remember what? I put the music on shuffle, and this is what came up.”
The burning starts again in my chest. “Oh. The song made me think…”
“Think what?”
“Never mind,” I murmur before rushing back to the bedroom to grab my suitcase. It was too good to be true. I don’t know why I thought his memories would come back so quickly. Wishful thinking, I guess. Before leaving, I make a reservation at a hotel in town. Some place modest because it doesn’t escape me that the money in my bank account is pretty much his money.
My suitcase rolls behind me down the hall. When I reach the end, I ask, “Is someone coming to stay with you? One of the coaches? Edmond?”
“One of the trainers is on babysitting duty tonight,” he answers.
“It’s not babysitting, Mav. Additional symptoms can pop up days later.”
“I know that. You don’t have to nag me about it.”
This isn’t him talking, it’s his annoyance and helplessness talking. It still hurts though to hear him speak to me in such a callous way. He wasn’t even this cruel when we broke up.
Before I leave, I approach him. I can’t leave without telling him how I feel, without at least trying one last time to get him to believe me.
I clear my throat to get his attention, but he ignores me. “Maverick.” When he doesn’t turn to look at me, I say his name again. “Please look at me, Maverick.”
Finally, he turns his head and lifts his gaze to meet mine.
“Everything I told you is the truth. We did get back together; we did get married. I am your wife whether you want to believe me or not. We are legally married. No matter what happens between us after you get your memories back, I’ll love you forever. You’re it for me. There is no one else.”
I take a few more hesitant steps forward until I’m right in front of him. His eyes track me as I lean forward and brush my lips against his stubbled cheek. I want to kiss him desperately but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
“Please remember,” I whisper before straightening myself.
He says nothing but the heat of his gaze hits me in the back as I grab my suitcase and roll it toward the door. There isn’t a glance back because seeing him one last time would be too hard and this week has been excruciating. I reach for the doorknob, twist it and when the door opens, I leave hoping this goodbye doesn’t last forever.
Six
Maverick
Mia is hurting again because of me. It gutted me to break her heart when I told her we were through, and I can tell it’s breaking all over again.
But I must protect myself.
