Rob watched Laura nod.
The strong, feisty woman he’d fallen in love with was hidden somewhere inside the meek, mousey victim sitting on the sofa.
Damned if he knew the secret to finding her.
After hugs and good-nights, Rob walked them outside. Leah sniffled as she hugged him.
“Shayla warned me, but…” She sniffled again.
“Yeah.”
Seth gave him another hug. “Seriously, if you need to bring her to our house, we’ve got the room. You can both stay with us as long as you need to. And Doogie.”
Rob glanced around. There weren’t any strange cars in sight, no one prowling the street. “Her brother leaves the Tuesday after next. If she hasn’t got her memory back by then I might take you up on it. I’m scared to leave her alone.”
When he returned to the condo, Laura wasn’t on the sofa. He found her in her office, sitting in front of the computer.
“Sweetie, it’s late. I think you should head for bed.”
She stared at the screen for a moment. He’d thought maybe she hadn’t heard him when she answered. “I keep having dreams.”
He walked over to her and gently rested his hand on her shoulder. “What kind of dreams?”
“Bad ones. I start out sitting here and this image of a skull appears on the screen. Then someone’s knocking on the door and I wake up before I answer it.”
“You should talk to Dr. Simpson about it tomorrow when you see her.”
She nodded. His heart jumped a little, in a good way, when she rested her hand on top of his and looked up at him. The blue flecks in her grey eyes looked darker, like sapphire chips. “What if she can’t help me? What if I never get my memory back? Are you going to be able to love me like this?”
“What?”
“I saw the way you were watching me. And Leah. I could tell. I know I’m different now. I’m not the same.”
He knelt next to her. “Laura, I love you. Nothing will change that. We’ll get through this.”
She looked down at the engagement ring on her right hand. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to call things off.”
“Stop.” He used Dom tone on her. He immediately regretted it when her eyes widened a little in shock.
Or maybe it was fear.
He gentled his tone. “You are the love of my life. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. I still want to marry you, if you still want me.” That’s when the horrible thought hit him. “Do you still want me?”
“I…” She looked down at the ring again. “This isn’t fair to you.”
Fear consumed him. “You let me worry about what’s fair to me, okay?” He gently cupped her chin and tipped her face so she had to look him in the eye. “I will be right here by your side unless you tell me otherwise. Got it?”
Her eyes dropped closed. She nodded, then leaned against his chest as he engulfed her in his arms.
With his face buried in her hair, he said, “I swear, Laura, I will take care of you. I love you, and I will do everything I can to help you get through this. Just don’t give up on me. Please.”
“I won’t,” she whispered.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Chapter
Nineteen
Rob had to work a half-shift from six o’clock Saturday morning until six that night to fill in for a guy who’d covered for him while Laura was in the hospital. Bill drove Laura over to Pt. Charlotte to Dr. Simpson’s office that morning.
Laura felt nervous, unsure, and even let Bill talk her into not just a pain pill, but one of the anti-anxiety pills as well.
She hated the fuzzy feeling in her brain with a passion, but she also knew she needed to be relaxed as much as possible when talking with the doctor.
Dr. Simpson’s office was in a small medical complex near the hospital. She was part of a practice with three other psychiatrists and two psychologists. When they walked in, they found the receptionist’s desk sat unmanned. The waiting room was a soothing blue and green combination, tastefully done, no doubt meant to put patients at ease while they waited.
Dr. Simpson heard them enter and stepped out of one of the offices. “Hi, Laura. Come on in.”
Bill was going to sit in the waiting room, but Laura asked him to come in with her. Once Laura was settled on the couch, Dr. Simpson got them started.
“How have you been doing since I saw you? Have any new memories returned?”
“Some. Scattered.”
“Nothing from the attack?”
Laura shook her head, and then detailed what she knew so far. Some of her childhood. Some of Bill, of Steve, and even little snatches of Rob, but the big things, the mile-marker events in her life, were still mostly missing.
“Are you having any more dreams?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. After explaining the dreams of the computer skull and the knocking on the door, she waited, hoping the woman would have some magical insight.
She didn’t.
“What do you feel they mean?” the doctor asked.
Laura stared at her. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Bill in case she was missing something, then back to Dr. Simpson. “I don’t know what the hell they mean!”
“It’s all right, Laura. Calm—”
“Oh, soo don’t fucking tell me to calm down.” She burst into tears. “This psycho is still out there, and you’re telling me to calm down?”
Bill moved to sit next to her on the couch. “Laur, it’s all right.”
“No, it’s not all right!” She stared from him to the doctor and back again in disbelief. “I think I’ve been pretty calm the past week all things considered, but I’m fucking sick and tired of trying to pretend I’m okay when I’m not!”
The outburst caught even her by surprise. Bill pulled her into his arms and Dr. Simpson handed her tissues as she cried herself out against him.
The doctor quietly spoke to Bill. “Has she been taking the anti-anxiety medication?”
“Not really. I made her take one this morning.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Laura snarked.
Bill patted her on the shoulder and continued. “She’s really jumpy, the nightmares—she’s not acting at all like herself.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Laura,” he said, big brother written all over his voice. “Please let me talk.”
She shut up and blew her nose.
“I guess her friend Shayla was there when you talked to her the last time. She told Rob, who told me, about PTSD. I looked it up. She’s showing a lot of the symptoms.”
“I was strangled and beaten half to death,” Laura said. “Wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.”
He continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “Rob’s trying to find her old journals to see if they’ll help with her memory, but so far we haven’t located them.”
Laura shut up. She hated feeling like they were treating her like a kid, but the fact that Rob was looking for the journals helped somewhat.
Dr. Simpson focused on her again. “We talked about this. That the trauma of the attack might trigger post-traumatic stress disorder. It certainly sounds like you’re going through that.”
“Look, can’t you just give me that drug and see if it jogs my memory loose? Everything’s obviously stuck in there somewhere. I remembered fucking laundry soap and a refrigerator magnet, for chrissake.”
“I told you I’m hesitant to prescribe that. I’d rather you try other means first. I don’t like using drugs for that purpose unless absolutely necessary.”
“Getting my memory back is absolutely necessary.”