Chapter Six

Chapter six

Mikaela:

“Take your hands off my woman!” A sharp masculine voice cut through the heat in the air.

THOSE WORDS.

THAT VOICE.

They rang a bell in my head, but I could almost swear I've never heard or seen this man in my life before but my brain refused to believe it.

Jet black hair. Thin lips. Blue eyes. Tall and fine. Nice chiseled jaw that matches the chill of his blue eyes.

His gaze was pure fire and nothing could compare.

I felt Ethan's hands pull away from mine, and my neck snapped at him. 

His face was as hard as a rock as he stared at the other man who was storming towards us.

“What are you doing here, you bastard?!” The man spat, finally halting when he was a few inches away from us. I could see anger boiling in her eyes.

“What am I doing here? I should be asking you that!” Ethan retorted. “Isn't it the daddy's boy who was rejected by her multiple times. She chose me as her husband, not you.”

“And that was a fucking mistake she made. You do not deserve her.”

“She loves me.” Ethan shot back.

“Let her speak for herself. Don't use her memory loss as a chance to hypnotize her. Only if she knew you caused her this.” He pointed at me, before turning back to look at Ethan. “She belongs to me, she has always belonged to me.”

“Well then, who is legally married to her?”

The man threw his neck back, a diabolical cackle escaping his throat. “You filed a divorce by yourself.”

My palm went cold, stiffening for a second.

I didn't know why but it stings. My heart stings.

I clutched the sheets in my fist, letting out a shaky breath.

“Is that….true?” I whispered, my voice shaky as I stared at Ethan's back.

I noticed his fist clench by his sides. “That is not true. Don’t believe him!” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper as his face lowered.

“Then what is he talking about?” My eyes darted, catching a glimpse of the man's blue eyes exploring my face as if he could see right through me.

“Do not believe him!” Ethan lashed, turning swiftly to face me.

With his chest swelling and deflating in rage, he remained on the spot, our eyes locking.

“Do not believe him.” He repeated, shaking his head before turning and striding towards the door.

The other man remained immobile for a while, and although I wasn't looking directly at him, I could feel his hot gaze on me, scorching my confidence.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

I didn't respond or move an inch.

“Sorry about that. Yes, he's your husband but I don't think you should trust him.”. Patiently, he waited for a response or gesture but I gave him nothing. “I'll get the nurse.”

After a few seconds, I heard the double click of the door.

“What is happening to me?” I whispered to myself, burying my fingers in my hair as tears slipped down through the corners of my eyes.

Letting out a sigh, I bit the corner of my lip in frustration.

As I laid there, I could feel everything slowly sink it. The pressure, the pain, the sting, the weight of my own thoughts.

Was Ethan ever my husband? Was he really my husband? A stranger? But was the other stranger telling the truth?

THEY ARE BOTH STRANGERS, DUMBO, WAKE UP!

How did I lose my memory? 

Even the thought that I was once someone who knew herself was haunting me. Someone who has something going on. Someone who used to know the truth, but I was now someone who could barely remember her own name, her own age, her own family or enemies. My unawareness was the only weapon they had against me.

Fear overwhelmed me deep down. Fear of trusting the wrong person.

“Are you okay?” A soft feminine voice blurted.

I tilted my neck to the left, my gaze meeting a petite figure dressed in blue pants and blue shirt. Her hands were tucked in her pockets, her eyes etched with care.

I nodded.

“Are you feeling any pain?” She questioned again.

“I feel uncomfortable. My breath feels forced, and my head heavy.”

“It's okay. You'll be fine. You just need some energy. We will take off some of these machines and tubes today so you can survive independently.”

I hummed.

“Would you like to eat anything? You and your baby need some energy.”

So it’s true?

I cleared my throat, “I don't think I can have anything now.”

She placed the back of her hand on my forehead“No, I insist. Would you like some toast?”

I hummed, reluctantly accepting her offer.

“I'll be back.” Just as she turned to leave, I pinched the tip of her shirt.

She halted immediately and turned. “Are you okay?”

“Who are those men?” I asked quietly.

“Those men? You mean Ethan? And the other man who just left, Kevin?”

“Yes.” I responded.

She looked me in the eye for a moment, her smile slowly melting away before she jolted back, wearing the smile on her lips again.

“Ethan Vinny is your husband, everyone knows that, and Kevin Davidson claims to be an old friend.”

I let out a breath I never knew I was holding in.

CLAIMS?

“Feel safe with them, especially Ethan. You're lucky to have an amazing husband like him.” She grinned, her teeth unveiling.

“Thanks, but do you know how I lost my memory? I'm really curious.”

“Uh….” Her eyes tore away from mine. She then shook her head, “I'm sorry but I don't think I'm in the position to explain that. I should get your toast ready.”

“Thank you though. I really appreciate your honesty.”

Immediately, she exited the ward.

My eyes wandered the ward, then I glanced at the foot of the bed where I caught a glimpse of the edge of a file peeking out.

It was thicker than a regular patient file, sealed with a metal clip, and stamped in bold: “CONFIDENTIAL – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.”

I shouldn’t have touched it. But I did.

My name was right there, written in a red typography: Mikaela Vinny.

"She never killed her, but she knows too much. Keep her drugged. The voices return when she's conscious for too long. If she remembers, it's over."