Underestimated Part 29

"You're in the hospital, baby," the man who seemed to know me said. I pulled my hand away from him.

I didn't know who he was.

"What's wrong with me?"

"You were in a bad car accident, but you're going to be okay," the man that thought he knew me replied.

"How long have I been here?"

"We have had you in an induced coma for five weeks now. You suffered a ruptured spleen, broken pelvis and a serious head injury. Your brain had swollen severely, so we put you into an induced coma so it could recover."

"Five weeks?" I asked. I wasn't sure why it mattered. I couldn't even remember my name.

"Mrs. Kelley, can you tell me what your name is?"

"Who are you?" I asked, turning to the man who seemed to care about me.

"It's me, Morgan, Drew. I'm your husband."

What the f.u.c.k??? I don't think so...

"I don't think that is right," I a.s.sured him.

"You might suffer some memory loss from your head injury, but I am highly optimistic that you will have a full recover. Memory loss is a common side-effect of serious head injuries. It is highly likely it will return in time," the doctor explained.

I drifted back off. That was enough. I couldn't take anymore. Maybe the next time I woke it would be over.

Maybe it was just a bad dream. Yeah, that's what it was. I will wake to my real life the next time.

I think I was out for a long time. The room was dark, and the same man that was there earlier was sitting in the chair. He jumped up when he saw that I was awake.

"Hey," he softly spoke. I pulled my hand out of his again. It took every bit of strength that I had. My arm felt so heavy.

"You should leave. I don't know who you are," I demanded.

"I'm your husband, Morgan. We've been married for almost eight years."

"I don't believe you."

He got my purse and showed me my Nevada driver's license. The picture looked familiar but was it me? That didn't prove anything.

Every time I woke this man was sitting there. Why wouldn't he leave?

I don't know how many more days I was there drifting in and out of consciousness, but every time I woke this man was there. He was there when I was moved to the rehabilitation center as well.

I was starting to come around and was awake more and more. This guy who claimed to be my husband was always there, always telling me how much how much he missed me being home with him.

Evidently I had just gotten home when I had my accident. Apparently I had been studying English Literature in France, and hadn't even made it home yet or so I was told. I didn't remember being in France either. I was scared, and I felt like my whole life had been erased.

Why couldn't I remember something? Anything? It was so frustrating. I felt a ma.s.sive void, and despite the things this Drew character had begun telling me about my past, it was all alien. He said that we were getting ready to start a family, we lived in a beautiful mansion and that I loved books. It all sounded so superficial, and for some reason I didn't believe him.

Each morning, I'd wake up hoping it would be the day everything would come flooding back. It was frightening and frustrating because each day was as strange as the one before. No matter how hard I tried, I had absolutely no idea who Drew was or how much we meant to one another. He seemed to care about me a lot more than I cared about him. He was always there.

I did start seeing less of him because he said that he had to work. I didn't care if he went to work. I didn't want him there. He still came every night, but sometimes it was a few days because he had to go out of town. He could have stayed out of town.

I spent three weeks in the rehabilitation center learning to walk and regaining my strength. Had I known that the doctor was going to release me to that man I would have contrived injured longer.

"Where are my parents?" I had asked when the doctor talked to me about going home.

"Honey, both your parents are gone," Drew explained.

"Gone where?" I wanted to know. I knew that I was only twenty six. My Nevada driver's license said so.

Why didn't I have parents?"

"Your dad pa.s.sed away a few years back, and you never really knew your mom. She left when you were just a little girl?" Drew explained. He sounded sincere. I guess I didn't have a reason not to believe him.

"What about brothers or sisters? Don't I have any family?"

"Not really, Morgan. You and I were getting ready to start our own family, remember?"

No. you f.u.c.king idiot, I don't remember.

Another familiar face picked us up from the hospital. I was wheeled out, and Drew helped me into the back seat. I was doing much better and could walk on my own, but moving into the car hurt.

Drew sat right beside me in the backseat. I wished that he would move over, and every time he tried to take my hand, I pulled it away. It just didn't feel right to me.

I know that my eyes had to be wide open when we pulled into the long drive with a security gate. I read the sign above the gate.

'Callaway Estates.'

Wow, was this where I lived? None of it looked familiar. The house was a mansion. I mean big enough to get lost in. This didn't seem right either. I didn't think that I had really lived there at all.

"What the f.u.c.k is he doing here, Derik?" Drew asked the driver, and then looked to me like he was afraid of scaring me or something.

"I don't know, but I'm sure he has a right to be here whenever he wants," the driver stated, and I wondered what that meant. Who were they talking about?

I saw the frail older man in his wheelchair waiting. Was he waiting for me? I didn't know him either.

There were three nurses with him. Was he sick?

Drew helped me out of the car, and the older gentleman pushed the joystick on his chair and came to me.

"How are you, Morgan?" he asked with a warm smile, reaching for my hand.

"I wish I remembered," I smiled down at him. My hand in his didn't feel like it did when Drew held it. This man felt genuine.

"We'll help you with that. I've hired the two best nurses in the state of Nevada. They will make sure you get better," he a.s.sured me.

"I'm very sorry. I know that I am supposed to know who you are, but I honestly don't," I explained.

"That's not important right now. My name is Randal. Let's get you better before we worry about that, uh?"

I smiled with a nod. He turned his chair and pretty much demanded Drew's attention.

"I've got Terri and Melissa set up in the north wing. They will see to Morgan's needs. I want her taken care of, and that's an order. Do you understand?" he asked Drew.

"Yes sir. I will be sure of it," Drew said, bowing down to the man. I wondered who he was and why Drew was so intimidated by him.

Randal Callaway didn't come into the house with us and left with the third nurse.

I stood immobile once we were inside. Drew dismissed the two women and turned to me.

"Do you remember this place, Morgan?" he asked, staring very intently at me, probably trying to read my face and figure out whether or not I did.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. I didn't remember. I didn't remember at all, and nothing about the magnificent home did anything to jog my memory.

"That's okay. It'll come," he smiled, and I heard the Derik guy snort.

"I kind of wanted to talk to you about something," I said to Drew.

He dismissed Derik, and held my elbow while we walked into the living area.

"I'll be right back," he said.

He did come right back and sat beside me on the sofa.

"What is it, Morgan?" He asked, turning his legs toward mine. I moved. I didn't want his legs touching mine.

"I know that we are married, and all, but I really think I need to sleep alone for a while. This is all like very new to me, and I am having a hard time figuring out where I fit in."

Drew smiled as a lady brought in two cups of hot tea. I didn't recognize her either.

"It's okay, Morgan. I have already moved your things to a nice suite upstairs. I thought you might feel that way."

I smiled. "Thank you, but is there a bathroom up there. I realized as soon as I had asked that it was a stupid question. Of course, there were bathrooms up there. The house was amazing."

"Yes, there is one in your suite," he smiled.

I sipped the warm tea, but really didn't want it. I just wanted to lie down.

"Do you mind if I go there now? I'm a little tired."

"Not at all, you rest, and I will have some food brought up to you when you wake up."

"Thank you."

I held the rail going up the stairs and Drew walked beside me, holding my arm. I wondered why he put me in a room upstairs. He knew that I had a broken pelvic.

When I got to the top of the stairs, I stopped. There were so many rooms, all with closed doors. Drew didn't help me figure out which one I should go into.

"Do you mind helping me out here a little?" I asked. It came out sort of cold.

"You don't remember which one is your room?"

I looked at him oddly. "My room? I thought that you moved my things in here after my accident."

"I did, I was just trying to help your memory along."

How was confusing me going to help me get my memory back?

He opened the door, and I looked around. That room did feel maybe a little familiar, but I wasn't sure if it was a good feeling. I almost felt like I was going to have a panic attack being in there, but didn't know why.

"I'll leave you to rest. If you need anything, just pick up that phone and hit one. It goes right to my office"

Drew smiled.

"Thank you," I smiled back.

I walked around looking at the room. It looked like he had taken all of my things from our shared room and brought them to that room. A jewelry box sat on a vanity, and I opened it to find some beautiful pieces. I walked to the walk-in closet, and none of the expensive clothes were ringing a bell. I ran my hand across the fas.h.i.+ons and walked to the back of the enormous closet. I had more shoes than any one person could wear in a life time. I was rich. I was really, really rich. Okay. Maybe Drew was the rich one, but none the less.

I walked into the bathroom and was happy to see the jet tub that was calling my name. I started the hot water, and walked back to the bedroom to find comfortable clothes that weren't so fancy. There were none. I had expensive nighties, not a cotton t-s.h.i.+rt in sight.

I opened the underwear drawer and frowned, pulling out something that I thought was supposed to be panties, but wasn't honestly sure. What was the point in wearing them?

That just wasn't going to work. I wanted comfortable flannel pants, underwear that covered my a.s.s, and a soft cotton t-s.h.i.+rt.

I walked over to the phone and hit the number one.

"Is something wrong?" Drew asked.

"Yeah, kind of," I stopped talking when I heard my voice coming from his end of the phone. How was that possible?

"What's wrong, Morgan?"

"Are you sure these are my clothes?" I asked. I didn't hear my voice on the other end that time and blew it off as another side effect to my brain injury.

"Yes, I am very sure that those are your clothes."

"Well, I would like some comfortable sweats or flannels, some normal panties, and maybe some socks.

Didn't I wear socks?" I asked.

"Not very often, you wore pantyhose mostly. I will send someone out to get you a few things."

"Thanks, do I have a laptop?" I asked.

Drew didn't speak. He kind of acted like I took him off guard for a second.