All Chapters of The Crash Left My Husband With the Mind of a Child: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

“Boss, no shots.”All six-foot-two of Adrian Crane lay balled up under the hospital blanket, a single tuft of hair sticking out.The nurse held the tray, biting back a laugh.I snapped the chart shut and aimed it at the lump under the covers. “Adrian. Out.”The lump didn't move.I leaned down to his ear. “Take the shot and you get a chicken leg.”The blanket flew off.The nurse moved fast, and the needle went in. His eyes flooded instantly and his mouth crumpled, but he held it in and didn't cry.I felt amazing.Once, when I was running a fever of a hundred and three, all he gave me was four cold words. “Call the family doctor.”What goes around.The doctor came in.“Mrs. Crane, your husband's cognition has regressed temporarily. Recovery time is uncertain.”“He's extremely insecure right now. Whatever you do, don't upset him.”Uncertain?I almost laughed out loud. “Take all the time he needs. I'm in no rush.”I'd just stepped out for water when a voice like vinegar cut down the hallwa

Vivian shook with rage as Gerald dragged her out.The moment they left, I bolted the door and got someone to pull the security footage from before the crash.The footage showed Gerald entering the study the night before the accident.When he came out, the two of them argued hard, and Gerald slammed out.“That man's bad,” Adrian said, pointing at Gerald on the screen.I called a guy out that night to net the arowana.Adrian sniffled beside me. “Don't kill the fishy.”“Not killing it. Just running a test.”In a crevice of the fake rock at the bottom of the tank, the guy dug out a waterproof box.It wasn't in the fish's belly at all. The simpleton's memory was scrambled, but his instincts were still intact.I opened the box.Two seals, and a note.Adrian's handwriting:[If something happens to me, don't trust the Cranes. Don't trust the Bells either.]My fingers went numb.The Bells? My own family?My phone buzzed like mad right then. My mother.“Romy, your dad's factory has debt collecto

When I got there, the guard at the door stopped me.“Private venue.”I held up my phone and started a livestream.Title: [Rich simpleton kidnapped by his own uncle. Wife storming in to get him back.]By the time I burst into the club, the stream had over ten thousand people in it.I kicked open the door of the top private room.Inside, Gerald had Adrian by the wrist, trying to press a red thumbprint onto the transfer agreement for the Southbridge project.Adrian still clutched half a slice of cake, eyes rimmed red.He saw me like he was seeing a rescue. “Boss.”“Gerald.” My voice cracked like a whip.His face changed. “Romy Bell, you don't get a say in here. He has to sign this today.”“He's legally incompetent. His print is worthless paper.”I held up the phone and took a step closer.Gerald dropped his voice. “Don't forget, your dad's rotten debt is still in my hands. Stop him from signing and I'll have your dad in a cell tonight.”Half a day ago, I might have hesitated.Now I just l

I wanted to explain.I wanted to ask about the note, ask why he'd said nothing about any of it.But the way he looked at me, it was like he'd flipped through every page of the last few days and then burned each one.I was suddenly afraid.Afraid he'd snap back into the old, ice-cold Adrian.Afraid he'd ask about me using him to make money, dragging him around to apologize, putting him on livestreams.So I did the most cowardly, and most correct, thing of my life.I turned and ran.Out of the courthouse, into a cab, onto the train, all in one clean motion.My phone rang the whole way.I didn't pick up.Once I was aboard, I texted Walter.“Remember to water the pothos.”I thought about it and added one more line.“Remind him to eat.”Then I powered off the phone and pulled the SIM.Outside the window, a tall figure in a white shirt sprinted onto the platform.Through the glass, our eyes met.The train pulled out, and he didn't catch it.I sank back into my seat and finally cried.Very qu

Adrian settled into the town.He rented the second floor across the street.Every morning he lined up to buy wontons.The old folks watched the show at first, then started stirring the pot.“He looks pale today, give him two extra.”I said, “His face is expensive. The wontons aren't.”“He fixed my door lock yesterday.”I said, “Then you put him on payroll.”“He's so tall, one bowl won't fill him up.”I'd had it.“Whose relative is he, exactly?”An auntie smiled, eyes crinkling.“We're relatives of love.”I nearly bent the strainer in half.Adrian ate with his head down, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly.My mother came to the town once.She was dressed too thin, crying. “Romy, I was wrong.”I looked at her red, frozen hands.It wasn't that it didn't hurt.But hurt or not, I couldn't hand myself back.I asked her, “If you had it to do over, would you sell me to Gerald?”Her crying stopped.The silence was the answer.I nodded.“Then you weren't wrong.”“You just lost your