Page 29 of The One She Can't Forget

“Should I have come in?” I glanced at Jake, who looked slightly concerned.

“No, no. It wouldn’t have made much difference. Let’s check out the results of your MRI, shall we?”

She talked about the same things as Dr. Hildebrand.

“How about your memory? With the swelling going down, have you seen any improvement?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“No flashes of memories or anything?”

I started to say no, but the image of Jake running his hand through his hair came back to mind. “Well, maybe?”

Beside me, Jake turned sharply. “What?”

“I’m not entirely sure if it was a memory ordéjàvuor what. There was one little glimpse.”

“Oh? That’s promising,” said Dr. Patel. “What brought it on?”

I glanced at Jake. “It was just something Jake did. It felt like I’d seen it before.”

His eyes widened, and I felt like I could see the hope in them.

I shook my head. “It was probably nothing. There hasn’t been anything since then.”

“Hmm. Well, we’ll just wait and see. I’d like to see you again in a few weeks to follow up. Just take it easy and continue to limit your activity.”

“What about work? When can I go back to the hospital?”

Dr. Patel shook her head. “I’m afraid we are a while from being able to do that. You just worry about the day-to-day. I’d like you to monitor your headaches or dizziness. I’m hoping you’ll get some more memories back, but I have to admit it is still possible you won’t ever have more than the briefest impressions of that time you lost.”

I sagged in disappointment. None of this was what I wanted to hear. I’d pretty much resigned myself to never regaining the memories, but I was tired of sitting around at home watching StreamFlix and annoying my parents by being in their space.

“What about moving back home?”

Jake started to object beside me, but I nudged him with my shoulder.

Dr. Patel frowned. “I would say yes, but that dizzy spell has me slightly worried. I’d hate to have you hit your head or something while living alone.”

I felt Jake’s relief and resented it immediately. This was my life, after all.

The doctor continued, “Obviously, the choice is ultimately yours, but I would advise against it for at least another week without incident.”

I pressed my lips together to resist the urge to object. It was my choice, that much was true.

“Do you have any other questions?” When I shook my head, she continued, “In that case, let’s schedule a follow-up for two weeks and we’ll reevaluate. We’ll aim for another MRI in about a month. I’d anticipate a clear scan at that point, though your brain tissue will continue to recover from the trauma for anywhere from six months to two years.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Jake was nearly pulling me toward the truck. As soon as we were both inside, I understood why.

“What did you remember?” he asked, eagerness and hope filling his voice.

“It was nothing, Jake. I don’t even know if it was a memory.”

“Please? Tell me what it was. You said it was something to do with me, right?”

I turned in the seat slightly. “Okay, fine. It was the other night, before we watched the movie. You ran your fingers through your hair. I felt like…” I struggled to explain what I’d felt. “I felt like I remembered doing it before. I had this impression or vision or something of being up against a wall, and you had one hand on the wall and the other you ran through your hair.”

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