A Perfect Ten

  My Oren.

  I touched his fingers reverently, careful not to disturb some of the gadgets connected to the back of his hand. Then I crouched beside him so I could speak into his ear.

  “Hey there, handsome. I’m sorry it took so long to get to you. I didn’t think they’d ever let me back here. I was about to pull one of my acting tricks and have a major diva fit to trick my way to your side, but they finally complied.”

  I grinned, remembering the scene we’d created on the airplane. But the smile fell when Oren gave no response; his heart monitor just kept beeping out a steady rhythm, and the cuffs around his ankles kept releasing pressure with a puff of air.

  “I’m very upset with you, you know.” I kept my voice light as I scolded, I even reached out to gently run my nails over his scruff, but I continued to scold. “You weren’t supposed to let go of my hand like that. I mean, if you jump, I jump, right, Jack? You were supposed to listen to that part.”

  But he didn’t respond to the Titanic quote either. A sob escaped me. Noel’s hands wrapped around my shoulders and squeezed supportively.

  “I was supposed to go with you, wherever you went. We’re a team. You told me once that I had to have a place. Well, I finally figured out where it is. It’s with you. Do you really want to leave me alone, without a place? Damn it, you can’t abandon me here to live this life by myself. I’m a complete freaking mess without you. I...” My voice broke, and I shook my head. “I love you, Oren. I just...I want you back.”

  But Oren wasn’t here, and I talked to an unresponsive body. I didn’t know what else to do though, and I couldn’t leave him. So I gobbled up most of our ten minutes with him, just talking, telling him about everyone outside waiting for their turn to see him and how Noel was no longer pissed at him. There was barely a minute left when I finally realized Noel might want to say something, too.

  I stepped aside, and he leaned in close to Oren’s ear to murmur something short and sweet. Then he cleared his throat and stood, turning to me.

  When our gazes met, I knew this was about the worst moment of both our lives.

  Two days passed. I didn’t leave the hospital once. I just couldn’t. Reese and Eva eventually took control of me and cleaned me up. They borrowed some nurse’s scrubs from somewhere and changed me into them, cooing over the bruises on my stomach. After that, Reese brushed my hair while Eva cleaned my face and applied a touch of makeup. Zoey sat beside me, holding my hand and being the quiet, supportive best friend. But she looked so pale, the first moment I saw her flinch and set a hand over her baby, I sent her home, commanding Quinn to keep her in bed and take care of her.

  She came back the next day though, as did everyone else. Noel and Oren’s parents stayed overnight, camping out on uncomfortable waiting room chairs while our friends returned daily. Everyone eventually took a turn visiting Oren, but they all had the same result with him as I did: unresponsive.

  When the doctor told us they were going to begin taking him out of the coma, I became a jittery mess. There was a chance Oren’s body wasn’t ready for that, that he’d die. I hated all the statistics and percentages people gave; I just wanted someone to say, “He’s going to be okay,” but no one ever did.

  “The swelling is down, brain function looks good, and he’s breathing independently. He’s still unconscious, as we’re gradually withdrawing the barbiturates, but if you want to go in and sit with him, Mrs. Tenning, and be there when he wakes, that may be best for him.”

  I popped to my feet so fast I almost tripped over them. “Yes,” I answered too quickly, but I didn’t care how eager I looked. Oren was going to wake up soon. I started to follow the doctor, but then paused when I saw Brenda and Phil across the room.

  Slowing to a stop, I watched them huddled together before I asked, “Can his parents be there, too?”

  The Tennings and I had called a sort of cease-fire. They no longer glared or slung blame my way, and I avoided all eye contact with them when they were in the same room, but neither of us talked to each other again after the first day, even though they’d been getting to know everyone else in the group.

  As Brenda looked up at me now, though, only relief and gratitude lingered in her expression.

  The doctor nodded. “In this instance, we’ll let it slide and allow the three of you in his room.”

  So, Oren’s parents and I went to his room together. One side of his face was still thickly bandaged, but he looked more like himself with the breathing tube out of his mouth.

  We sat with him for a little over an hour, me on one side, Phil and Brenda on the other, before he moved his face on his pillow, turning it away from me. The three of us watching him sprang to our feet. We shared an excited glance before resting our attention back on Oren. A light cough left his lungs, and I swear, it was the most amazing sound in the world. Then he licked his lips and shifted his face again, turning toward me this time.

  His eyelashes fluttered.

  Holding my breath, I leaned in. “Oren? Can you hear me?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled from cracked, rusty lips.

  The doctor had warned us about all the types of brain damage Oren could have. He may have speech problems, memory problems, difficulty with motor skills. There were any number of things that could go wrong, but as he opened his lashes and looked up at me from bleary hazel eyes, the only thing I knew was that he was alive and awake, and the world was absolutely perfect.

  My Oren was looking at me.

  Tears filled my lashes, but I smiled so hard I’m surprised I didn’t break my cheeks. “Hey, there. How’re you feeling?”

  He opened his mouth, tried to talk again, but only a wheeze came out. After trying to wet his lips again, he rasped, “Water.”

  “Oh.” I laughed at my own silliness. Of course he’d be thirsty. They’d had a tube jammed down his throat for days. He probably felt as raw and dry as a seven-year drought.

  I spun away to find a cup of water for him, and his mother murmured his name.

  “Mom?” His poor voice was so hoarse I winced as I brought the cup around to him. It must hurt to talk. And yeah, he looked pale and cringed with pain as he held out his hand toward his parents, moving like a slow, sore old man. “Dad.”

  Brenda and Phil gathered close and took his hand, the three of them clutching fingers while his parents began to cry and laugh.

  Oren glanced around the room, looking completely disoriented. “What happened?”

  When his gaze landed on me, I held out the cup, bringing the straw to his chapped lips. He drank a few sips and then closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

  I set the cup on the side tray. “Do you want me to raise the bed so you can sit up?” They’d stopped elevating his broken leg, so I didn’t think there would be any problem with getting him more comfortable if that’s what he wanted.

  And he did. With a nod, he murmured, “Yes. Thank you.”

  I pressed the bedside button and watched his face as his torso was lifted. When he opened his eyes and lifted a hand, letting me know he was good, I stopped. He studied me a moment, his gaze moving over my clothes.

  I looked down at the scrubs I was still wearing and tried to think up a reason to give him why I wasn’t in my own clothes.

  “You don’t look old enough to be a nurse,” he slurred sleepily.

  I started to smile, thinking he was teasing me since I’d just given him a drink and adjusted his bed, but then he turned away from me, completely dismissing me, and I realized he really did think I was a nurse.

  My gaze zipped to his parents, only to find they were staring right back, alarm in their eyes. Brenda returned her attention to her son. “Oren?” she said fearfully.

  “Yeah?” His soft, raspy voice made me shudder. He reached for his mom again. He’d never once tried to reach for me.

  He knew who she was. He knew who his father was. He knew who he was.

  But he didn’t know who I was.

  Fear, dark and cold, rushed into me.
Oren didn’t know who I was. How could he not know who I was?

  “Where’s Zoey?” he asked, glancing around the room.

  “Oh shit,” Phil whispered.

  I covered my mouth with both hands and took a step backward. Oren’s parents exchanged a horrified glance before they looked across the bed at me, anguish flooding off both of them. I shook my head, trying to deny it, but one of the worst things possible had happened. He’d lost his recent memory, at least four years of it...because he still thought his sister was alive.

  Catching all the distress in the room, Oren said, “What’s wrong? Is she okay? What happened? Why am I here? Where’s my sister?”

  Brenda whimpered and laid her hands on him in reassurance, but he must’ve sensed her pain.

  “Mom?” His voice trembled with fear.

  His parents looked to me again, and Oren turned my way, his gaze accusing, as if I was interfering in a private moment that a stranger should not interrupt.

  “I, uh...” My voice trembled as I lifted my hands and backed another step away. “I’ll let you have your family time.”

  His parents nodded their thanks, and Oren turned back to them, already forgetting me.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks. My legs felt like noodles and in no way able to support me, but I kept walking, letting myself out of his room and quietly shutting the door behind me.

  I was halfway down the hall when I heard him scream, “Noooo...Zoey.”

  It was a miracle his vocal chords could be that loud after how hoarse he’d been. But the pain behind his screams let me know he’d found a way to use them regardless.

  Noel, and Quinn, and Zoey, and just...everyone flew out of the waiting room just as my legs gave out and I started to collapse.

  My brother dove at me, barely catching me. “Caroline? What the hell? Are you okay?”

  Another cry from Oren’s room had him lifting his face and glancing that way. “What happened?”

  I grabbed hold of his shirt as our friends gathered around, looking panicked and worried. Tears streamed down my face and clogged my throat. I couldn’t talk.

  “He doesn’t...” A sob seized me, and I squeezed my eyes closed.

  “Caroline?” Worry filled Noel’s voice as he stroked my face.

  “His memory,” I got out. “Lost years. Still thought his sister was alive.” I met the eyes of every person gathered around me. “He doesn’t remember any of us.”

  Days of exhaustion, fear, worry, heartbreak, and guilt took over then. I passed out cold, everything going dark and blessedly numb.

  I woke in a hospital bed. At first, I had no idea what was going on or why I was there. When I remembered Oren, and his coma, and him waking up with only half of his memory, I gasped and sat upright. Then I whimpered and cradled my head because it throbbed like hell.

  Noel, who’d fallen asleep in a chair next to my bed, jolted awake. “Hey. Easy,” he murmured, reaching out to comfort me. “It’s okay.”

  “Wha...?” I slowly lowered my arms and looked down at myself. I was still in the scrubs I’d been wearing for days, but my hands were now bandaged. “What happened? How long was I out?”

  Breathing out a long sigh as if he were worn to the bone, Noel sent me a tired smile. He hadn’t shaved in days, and his eyes were lined with weariness. But he slid up to the side of my bed to sit by me and comfort me as if nothing whatsoever was afflicting him.

  “You passed out after—”

  I waved him quiet, wincing when I thought about the horror that had lit through me when I realized Oren had no idea who I was, and the pain that came when I heard him scream for his dead sister.

  “Yeah, I remember that part.”

  Noel nodded and gulped. “The staff brought you in here and looked you over. You’re suffering from some severe exhaustion and dehydration, kiddo.” He took my wrists and looked down at my bandages. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d gotten hurt that day, too? Your scratches could’ve gotten infected.”

  I shrugged and glanced away. “I don’t know. I didn’t really notice, I guess.” Or care.

  He blew out a breath. “We’ve both been so worried about him, we haven’t been taking care of ourselves. Tonight, we’re going home and we’re sleeping in real beds and letting Aspen fill us with a warm, home-cooked meal. No arguments.”

  “But Oren—”

  “Still doesn’t remember either of us.” I choked out a sound of denial, and Noel’s face flooded with grief. “We’re not doing him any good by staying here and making ourselves sick, Caroline. The doctors said he could get his full memory back in a matter of minutes, hours, days, or—”

  “Never,” I said, the word echoing through my head.

  I’d seen the movie The Vow with Channing Tatum and Rachel McAdams. It’d been based on a real, live couple, and she’d never gotten her memory back.

  What if Oren never remembered me? What if he was lost to me forever?

  Fear clogged my throat. Knowing him this last year and developing a relationship with him had defined me in ways I’d stay for the rest of my life. To think all that could be completely erased from him devastated me.

  I told myself I should be happy he was alive, relieved he’d made it out of the coma. But the selfish, needy part of me just wanted him to look at me and remember us.

  “Caroline.” Noel’s voice was calming as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

  I nodded, but my eyes still went damp. I wiped at them, tired of crying, tired of hurting. I just wanted Oren. I wanted to burrow into his arms and forget any of this had ever happened.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked.

  “Better,” a voice answered from the opened doorway. Brenda hesitated when she met my gaze, but then she stepped into the room with Phil at her heels. “His speech is clear and unhindered. His fine motor skills were slow at the beginning, but they’re developing by the hour.”

  “And his memory?” I asked, glancing away because I still didn’t know where I stood with her. It was strange to see her looking at me with such compassion.

  Brenda sat on the bed next to Noel. “He’s still missing about five years. He thinks he’s a senior in high school, and he hasn’t recovered anything more since awakening.”

  I nodded. “That’s...” I cleared my throat. “Well, at least he still has the first...” But I just couldn’t voice my gratefulness.

  His mother took my hands, smiling softly as if she understood my dilemma and forgave me for my sorrow. “I wanted to thank you,” she said. “Thank you for not telling him who you were. He was already disoriented and scared. Learning about Zoey devastated him enough. I think hearing he was married and—”

  “I know.” I nodded and pulled my hands away from her to curl them to my chest. “I would never do anything to hurt him more.”

  Brenda seemed a little sad that I’d pulled away, but she nodded. “I know that. You love him very much, and I...” She cleared her throat and glanced down. “I’d like to apologize for the things I said to you. I was...I was hysterical and scared. And I needed to lash out and blame someone, but you weren’t—”

  Since I still felt responsible, I couldn’t listen to her pardon me. I lifted my hand and rushed out, “It’s okay. I understand.”

  Her fingers bit around mine sternly. “No. I don’t think you fully understand. This was not your fault, Caroline. It was an accident. You didn’t cause it, and you tried everything within your power to help him. You were not to blame.”

  My nose burned as I tried not to cry, but it didn’t work. Hot, heavy tears filled my eyes. “But if only I’d—”

  “No. No more ifs, child. Oren’s been suffering for years with all the what-ifs he has when he thinks about Zoey. Don’t put yourself through that, too. Just focus on the fact that he was a hero and saved both you and your brother. Okay?”

  I couldn’t help it, I began to sob. Squeezing my eyes closed, I bowed my head and confessed, “I just want him to remember
me.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Brenda tugged me away from my brother and pulled me into a warm, motherly embrace. “He will. Have faith. Oren always comes out okay. He’s our little survivor. He’ll get his memories back, and he’ll love you again. Don’t you worry.”

  But I did, and I sobbed all my worries out on my mother-in-law’s shirt. She just held me, and forgave me, and after a while, the tears finally dried.

  Noel made good on his threat. No matter how much I balked, he drove me home that night. I hadn’t seen Oren since the moment he’d woken from his coma and hadn’t recognized me. Everyone thought it best if he wasn’t approached by too many people he’d see as strangers just yet, not until he adjusted to the fact that he’d lost his sister and was no longer seventeen years old.

  It hurt to stay away from him. A part of me wanted to sneak into his room and just have him look at me. He’d remember. He had to remember me. Us. To me, it was the only thing worth remembering. But I didn’t want to confuse him and hurt him more than he already was.

  My room at Noel and Aspen’s house was no longer mine. Brandt had moved in and none of my things were there. That was okay. My home was with Oren, in his bed. I was tempted to go back to his apartment and sleep in our room, alone. But I knew I’d never sleep and missing him would kill me, so I let Brandt be a gentleman and bunk with Colton for the night while I took over his new room.

  But I still couldn’t sleep, and when Colton snuck in to cuddle with me in the middle of the night, I was glad for the company, even if the bitter sweetness of it made me cry some more.

  Oren apparently grew restless and frustrated with not being able to remember five years of his life. The next day when Noel and I arrived back at the hospital, his parents seemed frazzled from having to “deal” with him.

  Brenda swept her hair out of her face and blew out a breath. “He wants answers, and we don’t know what to tell him without shocking him too much.”