Page 134 of Mistaken Intention

“Nurse Emerson?” He frowns at me, putting down the pen he’s holding as he sits back in his chair. He’s not wearing his white coat today, but is just in dark gray pants and a button-down shirt, undone at the neck. “What are you doing here?”

“I—I need to see you.”

“Oh?” He waves his hand at the seat in front of his desk and I perch on the edge, feeling uncomfortable… and nervous. “Can I assume your presence here means there’s been a change in Mr. Bennett’s condition, and that for some reason, known only to yourself, you came all this way to tell me about it, rather than calling?”

He shakes his head, his frown deepening. “That’s not why I’m here,” I say. “But since you asked, there has been a development with Drew… with Mr. Bennett, I mean.”

“In what way?”

“He worked out that Maisie is his.”

“Maisie?” He looks perplexed.

“His daughter… the baby.” How can he have forgotten?

“Oh, yes.” His face clears. “He remembered her, did he?”

“No. He just worked out that she’s his. He still has no memory of her, or of her mother.”

“The woman who died?”

“Yes.”

He sits forward again, resting his elbows on the table. “This is unfortunate. We’re going to have to handle the next stage carefully.”

“I’m afraid it’s a little late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Unfortunately, things came to a head, and Mr. Bennett’s brother and I were forced to tell him everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. It wasn’t optional. If there had been any other alternative, I’d have taken it, trust me.”

He stares at me for a long moment, then takes a breath, shaking his head. “Has Mr. Bennett had any memories of his own yet?”

“No, nothing of any significance.”

“I see.” He thinks for a moment. “This changes everything. Having his past revealed to him like that could bring about a rapid return of his memories. It… it could prove very traumatic for him.” I feel even worse now, given my real reason for being here. “Do you think he’d consider coming back into the hospital?”

“No. But…”

“In that case, we’ll have to reassess the situation.”

“Please, Doctor… I didn’t come here to tell you about Mr. Bennett’s condition, or to discuss how his treatment might change.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I came to tell you I can’t stay there anymore.”

He frowns, blinking a couple of times, and then gets up, coming around his desk and leaning against it, right in front of me. “Why on earth not?”

“My reasons are personal.”

“So you want to come back here? You expect me to just…”

“I don’t expect you to do anything. I’m leaving the hospital.”

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