180. A home in Pennsylvania

Rosa's POV

I kept my face calm throughout the ride, but inside, nothing was calm. My mind was spiralling with everything I had discovered today. I tried to talk to him despite that. Even asked l questions like everything was fine. I nodded at the right moments. I even forced a small laugh once or twice, but none of it reached my mind. My thoughts refused to settle. They kept circling the same truth over and over again.

Charles was hiding something. And whatever it was, it was something about me.

The phone sat inside my bag. It was switched off for now. I waited for the right moment when I would switch it on again. I told myself I would wait until he dropped me at the hotel and left. I would have the whole night to go through everything properly and I was certain that I would find something there.

We stepped into the reception of a large , exquisite hotel, and I stood aside as Charles spoke to the receptionist, requesting a full suite. That pulled my attention immediately.

“A suite?” I asked, turning to him. “Why a suite? A normal room is fine for me.”

He looked at me, then reached for my hand, his expression softening in a way that almost made me hate myself for doubting him. “I’m not leaving you alone,” he said.

My heart tightened at the revelation.

“I’ll be staying with you,” he continued gently. “I can’t leave you by yourself in this condition. You can’t remember anything and your blood pressure is unstable. What if something happens?”

His thumb brushed lightly over my hand as he spoke. “I need to be here with you,” he added. “I need to monitor you.”

I nodded slowly, even though everything in me resisted the idea. I did not want him there. But I could not say that. He would immediately know that I was up to something.

So I agreed.

We were led upstairs after he paid, and the moment we entered the suite, I felt the weight of my secret trying to force themselves out of my mouth.

I wanted to turn to him and demand answers. I wanted to ask him what he was hiding, why nothing made sense anymore, and why every piece of information I got contradicted the next.

But I held myself back because I was beginning to figure out that he was a pretty good liar.

If I could find just one person who would tell me the truth, I would leave immediately and I would find another doctor who would explain what was really happening to me, because at this point, I did not even trust the diagnosis I had been given.

I was still lost in those thoughts when Charles sat beside me. He took my hand again, his voice softer now.

“I love you,” he said, lifting my hand to kiss it. “We’re a family. You, me, and our baby.”

I looked at him and forced a small smile. He searched my face as he spoke, like he was trying to read something I was not showing.

“I know this is hard for you,” he continued. “The memory loss…the confusion. But I’m your husband, Rosa. Everything you need to believe that is there. The certificate, the pictures—you don’t have to doubt me.”

His eyes held mine, still searching. “Are you hiding anything from me?” he asked quietly. “Are you starting to remember something?”

For a second, I almost said it. I almost told him about the phone because I was tired of the lies and the fact that I felt like a fool. But I held myself back.

“No,” I said instead. “Everything is still… unclear. That’s why I get anxious sometimes. It’s difficult not knowing who you are.”

He squeezed my hand gently.

“I understand,” he said. “And I’ll stay with you through it. Until everything comes back.”

I nodded. But inside, nothing felt settled.

Later that evening, food was brought in. We ate quietly, the kind of silence that felt heavier than conversation. I could feel him watching me sometimes, studying me, but I avoided his gaze. I was trying to hatch a plan. Maybe while he slept, I could sneak into the toilet and go through the phone. If I found out anything that suggested another lie, I would be gone by morning, memory or not.

When we were done, he brought out tea. “The doctor recommended this,” he said. “It will help you relax since you're always anxious. It will help you sleep well too.”

I stared at the cup for a moment. I didn't want to take it. But if I didn't, he would suspect something was wrong. I didn't want that, so I took it and drank the tea, hoping I would be able to wake up at night.

Not long after, exhaustion pulled me under. I barely remembered lying down or remembered him beside me.

I only faintly heard his voice. “Good night,” he said softly. “See you on the other side.”

Then everything went dark.

***

When I opened my eyes, nothing made sense. I was lying on a bed, staring up at a ceiling that felt unfamiliar. The light was too bright, forcing me to squint as I raised my hand to shield my eyes.

For a moment, I did not know where I was. Or who I was. I blinked slowly, trying to adjust, trying to make sense of the room.

Then I noticed him. A man, standing not too far from me.

I frowned immediately as I couldn't remember who he was, no matter how hard I tried.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice weak but clear enough to make him turn around. “I don’t remember anything. Who are you?”

He stepped closer, calm, composed, almost relieved. “I’m Charles,” he said gently. “Your husband. Thank God you're awake, baby.”

The word settled in my head, but it didn't hit any memory.

“You have temporary memory loss,” he continued. “It’s because of your pregnancy. The doctor said you’ll recover soon.”

He reached for my hand, holding it carefully, like I was something fragile. I watched him, uncertain.

“If you’re Charles,” I said slowly, “then what’s my name?”

A small smile formed on his lips.

“Your name is Rosa,” he replied. “You’re my wife, and we’re expecting a baby together.”

I looked around the room again, trying to understand anything. “Where are we?” I asked.

“This is a hotel,” he said. “We came here for a short stay in Jersey City.”

“And where do we live?” I pressed.

He did not hesitate to answer. “We’re heading home,” he said. “To Pennsylvania. That’s where our family house is.”