Page 16 of Forgotten
I spend that slow time trying to remember, trying to grasp the unthinkable. I want to convince myself thatAsh and I don’t make sense; that the concept of Ash and I having children together is crazy; that waking up to an entire family with him is the last thing I had expected. I think of all the times we have complained about children crying in public, and how often we have shared a disgusted look when a baby drools and spits and cries.
No matter how hard I try, the shock doesn’t come. With stretched legs, I wiggle my feet and point the toes to the ceiling. I have a boyfriend. I have a child. Deep inhale. Deep exhale. Count to ten. Count to a hundred. What does come, though, is a question: why has my brain brought me back to 2022?
Ash doesn’t return.
I fall into a troubled sleep until around midnight, when I call for some painkillers. I hope it will help me forget, or help me remember. It does none of those.
It’s early when I wake up again, and the hospital is quieter than ever. There’s this weird feeling deep inside of me. As if I’ve woken up in the wrong body, the wrong place, the wrong century.
I ponder rolling on the side to give my aching spine a break, but I have never done it without support, so I stay still and breathe through the pain. And then, I hear it. My eyes are still closed, and who knows, maybe I’m still sleeping.
“Dad’s right there,” Ash whispers, and his voice is faraway.
“Oke?” A smaller, softer reply. It makes my heart explode in my chest and at the same time, sink down to my guts. I stand perfectly still, eyes shut.
“He’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about him.”
“Miss’m.”
“I know, Angel, and I’m sure he misses you just as much. Come on, let’s go get croissants.”
Their voices grow more distant and I want to reach out, to ask them to stay, to come in. Instead, I don’t move. I breathe in and breathe out until I fall back asleep. Maybe 2024 is just a dream.
???
About three days after telling me we have a child then leaving me alone, Ash is back pacing in my hospital room. He’d walked in with a short, “hello” and a cloud of cigarette smell, shot an apologetic smile in my direction, and said nothing ever since.
With this, I’m quite familiar. He’s always acted guilty whenever he’d been caught smoking. I stare at Ash a little longer, searching my brain for a flashback, any image of him after 2022. There’s nothing except an overwhelming sense of warmth and affection in my chest, right by my heart. Perhaps that’s always been there.
When I finally decide to speak, my voice is steadier than expected. “Where is…” I stop myself before I can make the child a reality.
“You’d be amazed how mellow people become around a little doll,” Ash replies easily.
Me included, I think but I don’t say it.
“Me included,” Ash says and in the chaos of it all, I forgot that Ash and I have always been on the samewavelength. He’s wearing a light blue shirt today, a perfect match to the colour of his eyes. He smells like shampoo and something sweeter that I cannot identify. “Who is taking care of her?”
“Martin and Edwin are in town for the weekend.”
“The twins?” It’s weird, feeling worried and possessive of something I have never wanted, never met.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Ash drops onto a chair and crosses his legs, his white crocs peppered with charms hanging from the feet.
He points his finger at me. “You were the one who forced me to reconcile with my brothers and made them your daughter’s official baby sitters.”
“Mydaughter?”
Ash shrugs, meeting my eyes briefly. The silence is charged. Bubbly, confident Ashley is gone again, leaving space for a fidgeting and slightly terrified version of him.
The silence is interrupted by a new nurse who grins at Ash first; at me second. “I just wanted to let you know that the X-Ray is looking good. Your elbow is well on its way to recovery, there is no sign of displacement. We will transition to a semi-rigid brace early this upcoming week. In the meantime, keep it up with moving the hand and fingers. And, please, take it easy.” Is the final recommendation and I’m not quite sure who the nurse is talking to.
“Thanks.” Ash nods and once the nurse is gone, silence is back.
I have no idea how long we sit avoiding each other’s stares, before I finally decide to speak.
“So… We really have a child.” The words roll out of my mouth and they sound unreal.
“Yep. Just adopted.”
