Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
“No.”
Even though I know her ability to speak properly has been affected, it does nothing to lessen the blow.
I swallow hard as she squirms her hand out of mine and hides it under her blanket.
“I know this is all scary for you, but you’re going to get better. I promise.”
Glaring at me, she presses her lips together. I’m catapulted back in time when Kenzi would make the exact same face as a toddler right before throwing a tantrum.
“No you.”
“It’s okay to be confused and scared. But ya know what? Everything is going to get better soon. I’m going to take care of you just like I always have.”
“No.”
I flash her a grin, hoping it’ll win her over like it used to.
“Trust me, you really do like me. I know you don’t know that right now, but you’re crazy about me.”
“Ew.”
Once upon a time—a lifetime ago—she told me she fell in love with my smile long before we spoke one word to each other. She told me it made her heart warm and fluttery.
Now—nothing.
Oh, the little things in life we take for granted...never realizing how hugely important they truly are.
“No,” Ember says for at least the tenth time as the doctor explains the extensive treatment plan he’s outlined. I’m overwhelmed myself and wish I had asked Tor and Kenzi to sit in on this discussion with me. Ember will have to endure almost every kind of therapy imaginable. Physical. Neurological. Psychological. Speech. Occupational. Family.
The list of things she has to relearn and overcome is a mile long.
It’ll take approximately six months of various stages of intensive treatment and therapy before coming home can even be considered, and then more therapy from there.
With no guarantees what the extent of her recovery will be, or if she’ll ever regain her memory.
“It’s normal for her to go through a range of vastly different emotions and moods—sometimes on an hourly basis. Her personality will be flat and disassociated. She may come across as uncaring, even rude and irrational, at times. She may be crying one moment, laughing the next, then furious for no reason a few minutes later. It’s all normal. She will experience confusion and disorientation. We expect that behavior to subside in a few weeks, or possibly months. There’s no way to know at this early stage, but once she starts therapy, we should see improvement,” the doctor explains as Ember pushes the channel button on the television remote repeatedly, watching the scene on the screen change rapidly from one show to the next.
I have a feeling that’s how she’s seeing things in her own head right now.
“What about visits from family? She doesn’t seem to like me very much at the moment.”
“It’s going to take some time for her to feel comfortable with anyone. Everyone is a stranger to her. Visits will be limited to no more than three visitors at a time, for very brief periods. Don’t try to force her to remember anything or anyone. Just smile, keep conversations light. Don’t let her see that her behavior is upsetting to her guests. If the visits agitate her too much, they’ll need to stop.”
“I agree,” I say.
“It’s extraordinary that she’s coherent and can speak. As I said, this is all remarkable.” He closes his folder. “I’m very optimistic about her long-term recovery.”
“I am too. I’m just worried about the memory loss. And the detachment.” I glance at Ember, who’s still engrossed in the television, oblivious to the fact that we’re talking about her.
“Understandable, but not at all uncommon.”
The doctor and I stand and walk out to the hallway together.
“Level with me,” I say as soon as we’re out of earshot from Ember. “What are the real chances of her memories and her personality ever coming back?”
“Off the record? I’d say it’s fifty-fifty. We just don’t know. It could take days, weeks, months. I’ve seen patients start to regain sporadic memories years later. Some never regain their memory. There’s simply no way to tell.”
“So my wife could be gone forever?”
“It’s best not to think about things like that right now, Mr. Valentine. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you do.”
Too late. I’m already on that never-ending road trip.
I spend the day with her, vacillating between moments of incredible happiness and cold, hard fear. When she’s smiling, everything feels right again. Ember’s back. I’m not alone anymore, begging and praying and hoping for her to be okay.
But when she talks and looks at me with zero filter to buffer her words and expressions, it’s like my heart is slowly being dug out and ripped from my chest.
Things will get better.
I’ll walk through any hell for her.
Love always finds a way. It’s like water and air. Eventually it seeps through.
“Whas that?” The framed photographs on the wall have suddenly caught her attention.
“Pictures of us.”
“Who?”
“Our family. Do you want to see them closer?”