Memory loss

“It’s me, Jane Smith, your wife,” I said shakily

“I am married?” he asked again

“Yes. And we have a son.” I said, wheeling myself closer to him lifting Ethan to show him

“Ethan, meet daddy.” I said jovially before sobbing, “Honey, don’t scare me again like that. I didn’t know what I would’ve done without you.” I cried. He lifted his hand and parted me on my head.

“Don’t cry.” He said. I could see the tenderness in his eyes though he seemed distant. At that moment, he held his head, groaning in pain. I cried out, calling his name before pressing the button at the bedside to call the doctors.

“Babe, Hold on. The doctors are coming,” I said to him, calling his name over and over.

“It hurts.” He said before the doctors barged in the room

“Excuse us, Mrs. Watson.” The doctor said to me before one of the nurses wheeled me outside.

“What is going on?” Mr. and Mrs. Watson asked me at the same time

“James woke up. But …” I said shakingly

“But what?” they asked, annoyed

“He can’t reme