Forget Me (Hampton Harbor) (15 page)

"I’m afraid of getting hurt," he finally says.

I watch him carefully. He is only confirming what I already know.

"But it doesn't matter," he adds.

And just like that my stern demeanor falters. My hands fall to my
sides and my hands grasp the soft, cotton material of my shorts.

Will takes a step toward me. "It doesn't matter because
everything I feel for you, every moment I spend with you, is worth more than
that fear. Even if it turns out that I can't have you for a lifetime, or if
things change when your memory returns, at least I'll have this. I'll have the
good moments with you. The moments I didn't expect to happen."

My tongue is caught in my throat and I think that maybe I'm going
to fall over. I steady myself against the wall, my eyes never leaving Will's.

He reaches a hand out and wipes a tear from my cheek; a tear I
didn't know had escaped.

Why am I crying?

His hand falls back to his side and he continues. "I know
it's crazy, how quickly things have moved, but I've fallen... I've fallen for
you Jane. I've fallen for who you are in this moment, and I'm sure I'd have
fallen for whoever you were before the accident. Maybe it’s because we feel
like we are racing a clock that this is all so intense. But..."

He trails off and I know what is coming. Somehow, I feel exactly
the same as he does.

Will cups my cheeks in his hands, and the light from the lantern
in the kitchen casts an orange glow over his face.

"I love you, Jane."

I lose my balance and crumple into him, wrapping my arms around
his waist. He runs his hands over my back and holds me close.

"I love you too," I whisper into his chest.

We both break apart, for a split second, and then we are
scrambling to get close to each other. Our lips meet in an almost painful
reunion, and we all but devour each other in the foyer. Will grasps my waist as
he kicks his shoes onto the rug by the door and as soon as the task is
complete, he lifts me into the air and backs me into the wall. My legs wrap
around his hips and my arms snake around his neck. His lips leave a trail of
heat as he kisses a trail from my mouth to my ear, and then down to the hollow
part of my neck. A gasp leaves my throat and I'm rocking against him, gripping
the back of his shirt so tight that I’m sure my knuckles turn white. 

Somehow we are moving and suddenly we are up the stairs and
heading toward my room. I don't know if he guesses that it is mine or if he knows,
but I don't care. The lantern I set in here earlier is smaller than the others,
and only gives off the faintest of light. He leans me back onto the bed and
hovers above me, pulling his gray t-shirt shirt over his head. I run my hands
over his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles rise and fall with each
breath. I feel him shiver under my touch as I run my hand down his chest, over
his stomach, and to the waistline of his pants. 

His hands fumble across my waist and make contact with my bare
skin. It’s everything I wanted to feel on the beach the other night. The fire burns
brighter in my lower stomach and a moan escapes my throat. He pulls my tank top
over my head and brings his mouth to mine. Soon, in a not so graceful way, our
clothes lay scattered around the room and Will hovers over me. I can sense his
hesitation by his posture, the same hesitation we both had on Friday.
Everything changed with his admittance downstairs. 

"Jane," he says my name and I reach up to touch his
cheeks.

"Will," I say. "It's okay."

In the soft light I see his eyes flick over me and I catch a look
of adoration in his eyes. He lowers himself slowly and covers his body with
mine, our lips meeting gently. Our bodies line up and no inch of flesh is left
untouched. Will is hard and soft all at the same time, and I run my hands over
his back, up his arms, and through his hair. He grips my hips with his hands
and deepens the kiss, and I know that everything is going to be okay.

When I wake up in
the morning, rain still pounds against the window, and I’m amazed that the
house has yet to wash away. The clock on the bedside table is still powerless,
but enough gray light pours in through the window that I know the sun has
risen. I’m on my stomach, with my head facing the dresser, and Will's arm is
thrown over my back. I can feel his warm
breath
on my
neck and his forehead is pressed up against the back of my head. I don't dare
move, for fear of waking him up, and I close my eyes with a smile.

I can't even think up words to describe last night. Our
relationship shifted the moment we said 'I love you' and now it’s as though we
are trying to fit a lifetime of love into the short time we may have. After
sharing last night with Will, and being with him in an intimate way, I've
decided to give in to the risk of hoping. Hoping that when my memories do return
completely, that I’m just a girl that is looking for a new start. If so, I've
already found it.

I realize that Will's even breathing has stopped just as his
fingers start to curve around my stomach. Soon he is trailing kisses along my
shoulder and down to my neck. I scrunch up and giggle. I roll to face him, and
push my hair out of my face.

"I must look wonderful," I say out loud.

Will shrugs. "I think you'd look beautiful no matter
what."

"Suck up," I say, and he silences me with his mouth. One
hand travels along my waist and down the outside of my thigh, rounding up over
my knee.

I gasp against his mouth and lean back. "You know, Charles
and Marie are coming home today."

Will shoots me a wicked grin, one that sends goose bumps dancing
across my skin.

"I bet we have time."

He brings his mouth back to mine and he rolls on top of me.

Even though I’m
still off work because of the power outage, Will needs to go to work. He
hurries out the front door and I stand in the opening, watching him jog down
the stairs. He pauses and turns around, jogging back up the stairs and sliding
to a stop in front of me. He cups the back of my head and gives me another good-bye
kiss, the third one, and turns to leave again.

I giggle and wave. "See you later!"

I watch his car pull down the driveway before I head back inside.
The rain finally stops and bits of sunlight try to peek through the clouds. I'm
halfway up the stairs when the power clicks back on. The clocks downstairs beep
to life. The light in my room is on when I enter to gather my stuff for a
shower. The bed is heavily rumpled and I feel myself blushing as the memory of
last night floods into my mind.

After a hot shower, I blow dry my hair and put on make-up, feeling
the happiest I have since waking up in this house. I make myself breakfast in
case Shelley calls me in to work. I'm cleaning up my dishes when I start to
feel nauseous. The icky feeling rolls through my midsection, and cool sweat
beads on my forehead. I drop my dish in the sink and take a seat at the
counter, laying my head against the cool granite. The feeling seeps away slowly
and I stand with a deep breath.

I make it two steps before the nausea hits me again. This time it’s
coupled with a sharp cramp in my lower abdomen. I grip my stomach with my
hands.

Did I eat something bad?

The carton of eggs is still on the counter and I check the use by
date. There is still a week left. I groan as the sharp pain hits me again and I
fall to floor. A strangled cry escapes my throat as the pain intensifies.
Something is wrong. Really wrong. I try to think fast and end up crawling
across the floor even though each movement brings extreme pain. I manage to
reach up and grab the phone. I turn it on just as another sharp pain hits me. I
look down and choke back a scream. My shorts are dotted with blood. 

I punch 9-1-1 into the
phone,
pretty sure
that this is definitely an emergency.

I'm looking at the growing spots of blood as the dispatcher
answers the phone, and I'm just muttering "help" when spots appear in
my vision and the floor is rising up to greet me.

"Mel." My name
falls from his lips in a warm breath, and his lips brush against mine. "I
love you."

"I love you too,"
my mouth says back, even though I'm not sure I want them to.

We are in the back seat
of a car, parked under the dark shadows of a large tree. I'm curled up in his
lap, with my right hand cradling his cheek and my left hand gripping the back
of his neck.

It's the boy from the
picture. The one I remember seeing in my room.

"Jason," I
mumble before my lips move forward to meet his.

His hands are moving
under my shirt and up my stomach. A pleasurable shiver runs through me.

"Do you trust
me?" his whispers against my mouth.

I nod and lean into him.

"Jane, can you
hear me?" I recognize Dr. Morgan's voice immediately. 

My eyes open and are greeted with a bright light. The room comes
into focus and at first all I see is white; white walls, white lights, white
faces, white clothes. Dr. Morgan stands at the end of the bed, a manila folder
in his hands. I look on either side of me.

"Am I in a hospital?" I ask.

Dr. Morgan nods. "You’re currently in Eastern Maine Medical
Center. You had emergency surgery in Hampton Harbor and then we transferred you
here for recovery."

I close my eyes and think back to my last memory.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" I can hear the
double meaning in his question. He is wondering if I've forgotten everything
all over again, or if maybe I've remembered.

"I was in the kitchen when I started to feel sick," I
recall. "I called 9-1-1... and that is the last I remember."

"A Mr. William Davey actually got you to the emergency center
before the ambulance responded," Dr. Morgan tells me.

I run my hand over my lips, which are dry and cracked. Dr. Morgan
steps to my bedside table and pours me a glass of water. "He just happened
to be coming to the house at the time."

Coming to the house? Had
I imagined the previous night?

"What day is it?" I ask groggily. My head feels fuzzy
and I notice that there is an IV line running into the crook of my arm.

"Same day, just late afternoon. The surgery was pretty quick
and we've let you slowly wake up from sedation."

It’s then that I notice the nurse to my right. Had she been here
the whole time?

"So what happened to me?" I ask.

Dr. Morgan nods at the nurse and she leaves the room. He pulls up
a chair and sits down beside my bed.

"Jane, when I called you last week and wanted you to come in,
there was a reason I made it
sound
urgent." He
looks down at my chart and back up at me. "Jane, you were pregnant."

The world around me stops. Machines cease to beep, my IV stops
dripping, and I think my heart may stop beating. I suck in gulps of air and Dr.
Morgan helps me sit up, patting my back.

"Deep breaths, Jane. Deep breaths."

"Melissa," I cry out. "My name is Melissa."

Dr. Morgan drops to his chair and looks up at me. "You
remember?"

"I remember that," I tell him. "I remember my
name."

He writes something on my chart.

"You said I
was
 pregnant?"
I ask. “Why didn’t you tell me over the phone?”

Dr. Morgan sighs. “Normally, I would have. But in your case, I was
worried that sharing news like that in any way other than in person would be a
bad idea.”

"You had an ectopic pregnancy. That’s why you got so sick
this morning. Normally there are warning signs, but yours came on pretty
quickly."

"Ectopic pregnancy?" I understand pregnancy, but the
beginning part alludes me.

Dr. Morgan leans forward in his chair. "It means that the
baby was growing in your Fallopian tubes, instead of your uterus. Your tube
ruptured this morning, which is why you went down so easily. You are lucky you
didn't bleed out."