Chapter Two

Madeline’s POV

“Beep, beep” the steady sounds of machinery operating woke my restless slumber.

Where am I?

Raising my head to look around, I inspect my surroundings. Clean, white sheets lay on me as dim lights flicker on and off like my consciousness.

“Beep, beep.”

What is that beeping?

I lean forward to get a better view but quickly cringe from the pain. Beside me is a string of liquid flowing into a cut in my arm, bandaged with a cotton swab.

Was this..? Am I in.. a hospital?

Suddenly a young nurse comes rushing in holding a sturdy wooden clipboard, behind her is a woman with silvery short hair. She looks exhausted with dark circles under her eyes and a big, fat crease on her forehead.

“Good, you’re awake!” The nurse smiles with obvious uncertainty and caution, “How do you feel?”

My mind still groggy, I reply, “I’m not sure, I don’t even know what happened.”

The slender woman who stood next to the nurse clasps her hands and prays as tears start to well up in her red eyes.

The nurse motions to the lady and explains, “Miss. Beckett, your Mother is here worried sick about you!”

I frown, “That’s funny, I have no recognition of her whatsoever.”

The shock and tension in the room hits me like a lightning bolt. The nurse slowly pulls out a ballpoint pen and scribbles in her clipboard as the slender woman, namely my mother, starts to hyperventilate.

“The patient is awake and seems to have no recognition of what happened, perhaps a minor case of amnesia. This could be caused by the turbulence or trauma of the crash.”

I study the situation carefully. My hands were a fair color and my hair consists of black locks with silver highlights here and there. I then notice the obvious pain on my forehead, perhaps I had to receive stitches.

“Miss. Beckett, we will have to run various tests on you to testify if my suspicions are correct.” The nurse informs me sympathetically.

Why does she keep calling me Miss. Beckett?

As if reading my mind, the woman, who is supposedly my Mother, walks towards me as if I were an injured animal she had never seen before.

“You.. you don’t know who you are… do you?”

There is hurt in her voice, though she's trying her best to cover it up, to act like everything is okay, and like I didn’t just forget the early years of my life I would possibly never earn back.

This should come as a great shock to me, but I have no clue what I’m supposed to be missing. Everything feels hazy, as if I am floating in a fever dream. I’m sure she wants to hug me, caress me, assure me that it’ll all work out, but in doing so she would scare me since I don’t have any recollection of who she is or who I am.

Who I am… Who am I?

“Please, I- I need a mirror...” I whisper.

The nurse looks at me, clearly skeptical, but walks out of the room and returns with a mirror anyways. She hands the object to me slowly, and I reach it at the same speed, almost afraid to see my own face.

Who will I see, and will I even recognize myself?

Andrew’s POV

“She has amnesia.”

It took a while for my mind to register the words, and when I did, I instantly regretted everything. I don’t know when or how it happened, but suddenly I was on my knees, collapsing on the floor. All the feelings and emotions over the years flashing before me as I reached my limit.

I still love her. But I’m sure now she doesn’t love me.

I had taken us for granted, but I still believe she deserves better. Still, I shouldn’t have ended it then and there, and not like that. I should’ve broken up with her in person, or better, not at all.

But now it’s all over, not only our relationship, but her memories. All the sweet exchanges, late-night cuddles, and loving confessions, gone.

Then it dawned on me. All the painful exchanges, late-night arguments, and hateful disputes, also gone.

I got a new start just like I wanted, but at a devastating price.

I should’ve tried to be a better boyfriend.

If I could turn back the clock and start all over, maybe we would never have drifted apart. Maybe we could have talked our issues out instead of bundling them in and never addressing them. Maybe then we could have grown old together and lived peacefully.

Peacefully. Is a peaceful relationship even possible?

I’m sure we could’ve at least tried if I hadn’t messed everything up. I’m the reason we lost each other that rainy night.

Wait.

She has amnesia from a car crash. It was raining. She was on the road when it was raining and got into a car crash.

It all makes sense, well, mostly. But why was she out on the road in the rain?

*Flashback*

I’m lounging her L-shaped sectional sofa as she paces on the tiles in her connected kitchen.

“...he’s incorrect- pulsars weren’t discovered until 1967, what do you mean?!”

I nod in solemn agreement as she rants about her fellow co-workers despite the fact I know nothing about astronomy. I eye the plain black earrings shaking vigorously with the rest of her head as she throws her hands up in the air with frustration.

“...ugh then he said it was a red giant but it’s the aftermath of a supernova explosion, are you kidding me?! I mean, we were already told last week to research…”

She’s cute when she’s angry.

Blood rushes to my cheeks when I realize what I subconsciously thought. It was our first anniversary soon, and I couldn’t wait to show her my gift. I hope it serves as a reminder of how much I love her.

“HE MIGHT AS WELL DOCUMENT THAT THE EARTH IS FLAT!”

Even in this state.

Then she turns to me, lowering her hands and noticing my love-struck expression.

“Wh-what are you looking at?!” She blushes and fiddles with her sweater paws. “Whatever, I need to go for a drive and let out some steam.” She says in one rushed breath.

I hand over her car keys and our hands briefly brush against each other. We both look away, turning as red as her car.

“Be careful.” I whisper softly.

She nods and exits her apartment without another word. I stand and walk to the kitchen to prepare her some noodles for when she gets back.

Whenever she’s upset, she goes on a car ride to ease her thoughts and worries. It helps her sort out pent-up emotions and focus on the thrill of the wind against her face. It has always been her safe method of self-care at the end of a tough day.

*End of flashback*

Oh my god.

I broke up with her.

I started hyperventilating, my brain screaming at me that this was all my fault.

She must’ve gotten on the road in the rain and crashed.

I’m the reason she has amnesia.