Page 13 of Never Leave, Never Lie

Ian told them he was his partner. Alek tried to catch Ian’s eye so he could raise his eyebrows in a silent question, but his attention was still focused on the doctor.

“Is this permanent?” Ian asked. “Can he relearn English?”

“Unfortunately, that’s impossible to predict. It’s rare to lose only one language and not the other—it's much more commonto lose all ability to speak, or in rare cases gain fluency in an entirely new language. The intricacies of the brain are as vast and unexplored as the sea. Most patients regain their speech by three months, some later, and some never do. It would be foolish to pass a guess off as a guarantee.”

Alek needed to find a better doctor. A neurosurgeon should be able to speak with certainty on all brain-related matters. Although, it was convenient to have her speak his language, and he did sort of like her.

“I can’t promise everything will go back to the way it was,” the doctor continued. Her eyes focused on Alek like he was an interesting laboratory specimen. “Do you remember falling?”

Alek remembered smoking on the window sill, but hadn’t that been the night before last? How long had he been out? Had he fallen that night, and everything after was some sort of brain injury fever dream?

“I think I remember last night, but I’m not sure if last night waslast night,if that makes sense?”

“You hit your head awfully hard. Give me your best guess. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Alek’s eyes flicked to Ian and away. The last thing Alek remembered was that Ian didn’t come home. Everything between them was ruined.

“I remember going to sleep in Ian’s room. Alone,” he abbreviated.

The doctor checked with Ian, and having his ex-boyfriend confirm his story like he was a child not to be trusted was a new low, even for him.

“It’s normal to have amnesia from the day of the event,” the doctor said to both of them in English. “You’ll likely never get it back.”

Alek wanted her to go away so he could talk to Ian, but how would he even be able to communicate?

The doctor stood and moved to his feet. “Try to wiggle your toes.”

His heart dropped. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he might be paralyzed. His legs felt like they’d fallen asleep, but when he tested out each one, they did what they were supposed to. He blew out a relieved breath, his ribs aching with the motion.

“Good. Now squeeze my fingers.” She held out two fingers in front of each hand.

That he could do too, though his right arm hurt and moved sluggishly, weighed down by… He caught sight of the cast. How was he going to play the piano with that?

She followed his gaze. “Your right wrist is broken. Are you right-handed?”

Luckily, he was ambidextrous.

He shook his head and then stopped, stunned by pain. His head throbbed like his brain was ricocheting against the inside of his skull. He’d have to remember not to do that again.

The doctor completed a series of other tedious neurological exams, including poking him with the sharp end of an unfolded paperclip to confirm he still had sensation to all of his limbs. When she finished, she said, “Tomorrow, we can test your ability to read and write in both languages, and see how you are on your feet. But for now, I’m pleased.”

Ian opened his mouth, but Alek spoke first.

“Get me a pen and paper,” he told the doctor, then added, “please.”

The doctor repeated his request to a man in the room—the nurse, maybe?—who left and returned with a pen and paper pinned to a clipboard.

Alek picked up the pen with his left hand and wrote,I’m sorry.His handwriting was appalling, but it passed for legible. He could tell it was English. Or at least he thought it was.

“It’s English,” the doctor said, “and you don’t need to apologize to me.”

“I’m not.”

She laughed again. Shouldn’t a neurosurgeon be more serious?

“I’m going to write something for mypartner,” Alek said. He liked the taste of the word inside his mouth, thoughhusbandwould have been better. “I don’t want you to read it.”

She steepled her fingertips. “Of course. I’ll just wait here like a very expensive carrier pigeon.”

---