Richard's POV
My eyes drift slowly over her body again before I stare back at her face, trying to memorize every inch of her beautiful face.
Brown eyes.
Pink lips.
Black straight hair.
Pointed nose.
She appears to be in shock, with her jaws slightly dropped.
Carefully, I lift my eyes away from her, glancing around the entire place before looking down to see myself lying there.
I am in a hospital bed.
What happened? Who is this woman? Where am I?
I look back at her, and I see her head slightly bent with a frown on her pretty face. It makes her look so small, pale, and sad, and I wish I could move closer to her and console her about whatever is causing her sadness.
Suddenly, she lifts her eyes to meet mine, and I freeze.
Beautiful. Captivating.
It makes my heart beat twice its normal rate, assuring me of life. For a moment, I thought I was in heaven, dwelling with the angels, and attracted to this particular angel.
“The doctor…” someone calls out, breaking into the buzzing tension between us as I dart my gaze to the door.
Another woman stands by the door, her face also displaying a look of surprise. Compared to the first woman, she is wearing a skimpy dress and a lot of make up on her face.
As she approaches the bed, I bounce my gaze from her to the first woman.
“Richard,” she calls out, her mouth still wide open.
Richard? Is that my name?
I lift my mouth to ask what happened, why I am here, and who Richard is. But instead, what comes out is. “Who are you?”
My curiosity is getting the better of me. Just like the shock written on the first woman's expression when I asked that question, the emotion of shock submerging her existence darts around.
Am I supposed to know any of them? Do they know me, or did they just help me to the hospital?
Why can't I remember a thing?
My head is spinning, giving me a slight headache and making me feel like someone who just woke up from a hangover.
The doctor rushes in, signaling to the woman to move out while he attends to me. Quietly, I watch him examine me.
As soon as he is done and he steps backward, picking up a file from the nurse behind him, I ask. “What happened?”
“Mr. Giodano, you were involved in an accident almost a month ago,” he announces, making a cold chill run through my body.
“An…an accident?” I demand carefully and slowly, unable to believe it.
If I was involved in an accident, why didn't I know anything? Am I just waking up from that accident after a month? Was I in a coma? Why can't I remember what happened and how it happened?”
“Do you remember anything?” The doctor asks, as if hearing my thoughts.
Slowly, I shake my head. “No.”
“Your name?” He demands again, making my mind reel back to the two women.
The second woman referred to me as Richard. And the doctor called me Mr. Giodano.
“Richard Giodano?” It sounds so much like a question. I am not sure if that is my name.
He nods with a smile. “How old are you?”
Fear creeps into my heart. “How old?” He nods, urging me to speak. “I don't…I don't…know.”
Stuttering feels strange to me. Like I am not this kind of person. Someone who isn't confident enough to answer a question about himself. Someone who doesn't stutter no matter what.
Worry creases his brows, and he shares a knowing look with the nurse.
“Your mother's name?”
I shake my head. If I have a mother, why isn't she here? What of my dad?
“Are you married?” The next question makes me raise my brow to meet his intense gaze. “Any children?”
I shake my head again. “I don't know.”
I don't know a thing about myself anymore. Am I going crazy? How can I know if I am married when I don't even know my name or my age?
What the hell is happening?
The doctor says some words that are inaudible for me to hear, and the nurse strides out quickly. We continue staring at each other, with the doctor looking back at the file in front of him at intervals.
When he drops the file on a stand beside him, he moves closer to look at me.
Before he can finish up, while I lay down in silence and wait for a solution to my confusion and situation, the two women come back in behind the nurse.
The doctor instructs them to stand directly opposite my bed, giving me a clear view of them without having to sit up.
“Which of these women is your wife, Mr. Giodano?” He asks softly, causing me to forcefully shift my gaze from the first woman I saw as soon as I opened my eyes, back to the second woman who called me Richard.
My gaze ping-pongs between them.
The first woman isn't looking at me. She seems to be avoiding my gaze, but I can't overlook the sadness etched on her forehead, making me wonder why she is this sad.
If she is related to me in any way, isn't she supposed to be glad I finally pulled through?
On the other hand, the second woman is smiling so widely at me that I can tell she is glad to see me alive.
But then, more confusion clouds my mind.
I feel…
Every time I look at the sad woman, my heart thumps against my chest with excitement, but I feel nothing at all for the second woman, who is clearly happy that I survived.
What is happening? Is this just a test, or do I have to tread cautiously between these two women?
“You don't remember?” The doctor breaks into my thoughts.
I nod in the affirmative.
A flash of surprise crosses his face before he turns to the women. “I'm sorry, but Mr. Giodano has lost his memory. I believe having either one of you or you two beside him will assist in helping him recover his lost memory. For now, we can't detect if it's a permanent or temporary one, but let's hope it isn't permanent.”
“Oh, no!” The second woman gasps out loud and begins to cry hysterically.
The first woman finally stares at me, her eyes round with shock.
While the second woman keeps showing every bit of her emotion, the first is keeping them in check, tempting me to want to ask the doctor to tell me who my wife is between them.
The doctor begins to speak again, but I can barely hear him because my emotions are all over the place and my eyes are fixated on her.
That brown-eyed woman.
When he eventually goes out, she tears away her gaze and moves to a seat beside me. “How do you feel?”
“Hey, get away from my husband, you cheat!” The second woman shouts at her, pushing her away and making her fall to the ground.
“Richard, this woman wishes you nothing but evil. She isn't supposed to be here. She is your ex-wife, and I am your current wife. You asked her for a divorce when she cheated on you, and now she is back, pleading with you to take her back. I am sure she even knows how you got into this accident. Send her out right away!”
What?
I had an ex-wife. And I remarried?
Everything she's saying appears unfamiliar to me. Making me shut my eyes at intervals as ambigious scenes flash, making me feel a throbbing in my head.
My ex-wife.
My wife.
Is she saying the truth? Did this innocent-looking woman cheat on me?
When I open my mouth, I want to ask her for her name so I can refer to her by it, but something jumps into my head, and I ask softly, pointing to the second woman. “Are you Arabella?”
Her eyes widen, and the first woman jumps up and mutters calmly. “I am.”