Ambiguity

The sunlight pours into the stained glass window, illuminating the small room in a beautiful rainbow of colors. Blues and greens danced across the shelves of books adoring the walls. This room, assumedly a study was my favorite room before the accident. Or so I'm told. I drop to my feet, and admire the tiny dust particles sparkling in the rays. Almost as if someone threw a cloud of glitter or stars.

Ever since I lost my memory, the tiniest of things are what bring me peace. Trying to remember anything just leads to pain and frustration. Sometimes I'll see or hear pieces of before, like fading ghosts of my past life. Laughter, love. Things that I know I have, but can't quite associate the words to a feeling anymore.

The sudden shuffling of shoes against the hardwood pulls me from my thoughts. I shift, facing the door to see Damien making his way towards me. Every time I stare at his broad frame, a guilty pang thuds in my chest. Why can't you remember? He easily makes his way across the room, his long legs guiding his stride. He kneels down next to me and sends me a heart warming smile. "Hi June-bug."

June-bug. A nickname given to me by him before the accident, another thing I cannot remember. I return the smile, this time a genuine smile. The light hits his eyes just right, almost making them appear a sea green color. His brown hair, lay messily across his forehead. Freckles dust his cheeks, each one seemingly placed with a purpose. I study his face, searching for a memory, a feeling. Grasping for anything, desperate to remember.

I've seen the pictures of us, I know we were in love. There is no denying it from the way we looked at each other. Damien towers over me, in a protective way. He still stares at me as if I am the only person he has ever truly seen. A hint of sadness hides behind those eyes though, fear that I might not ever regain my memory.

I don't remember the accident, but according to Damien it was terrifying. We were out in the pastures, on our horses. He had planned out a small trail ride and picnic for the day, for our anniversary. It was a crisp morning, we had decided to head out early. Something seemingly spooked my horse, causing her to buck and kick. In turn, throwing me off of her back. I had a long fall to the ground, and was trampled by her in her desperate escape attempt. Damien says I was immediately knocked unconscious. I was in a coma for 6 days, before coming to. I woke up with no memory or any idea where I was.

Damien's face was the first that I saw. I could tell he had been crying, his eyes were blood shot red and puffy. When I asked who he was, I could see his heart break. I watched him fall apart, right there in front of me. Ever since that moment, he has been patient and kind. Constantly by my side, determined. I can tell the lack of affection bothers him sometimes. The girl he was in love with, only being a shell. It tears me apart, I want to remember. Not only for him, but for myself.

A soft hand touched my forehead. "I'm sorry, I must have zoned out." Damien, no doubt feeling to see if I have a temperature sends me a soft smile. "Are you feeling okay today? I was thinking we could go visit your favorite bakery for lunch." He pulls his hand away and fully sits next to me on the floor, our knees touching.

My heart aches for him. He attempts to fill my days with reminders of the past, pictures, videos, my favorite food or places. In a desperate hope to kick start my memory. "I think that would be a great idea, can we sit here a while longer? This room puts my soul at ease." His face softens at my words, almost as if he is melting at my voice.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny velvet bag, earning a confused look from me. "Just let me talk for a second ok? I don't want to scare you, or move to fast for your comfort. I need to say this though, it's something I should have already told you." He places the small bag into my palm and gestures for me to open it.

I gently pull the small drawstrings, and dump the contents into my palm. A small piece of cold metal touches my skin, a ring. It really was beautiful. A light green gem, pear shaped set in a simple silver band. Is this an engagement ring? My heart begins to flutter, panic slowly setting in at my realization. He studies my face for a second before speaking. "That is your wedding ring."

"Wait-" He cuts me off mid sentence, pulling my hands into his. "June, we have been married for a couple of months. I didn't tell you, because I didn't want to scare you. I can't fathom or begin to imagine living in a world that I can't remember. You prove how strong you are every single day. We got married in November, neither of our families know. We had both agreed to keep it to ourselves for a while, before we told anyone else."

I soak up and hold onto every single word he said. Something in my stomach sets me in unease. Why were there no pictures? The hospital never called him my husband? Why would he keep that from me? Why would we keep that from our families? He watches me expectantly, waiting for a response.

"I'm not sure what to say." I answer truthfully, watching as he slides the ring onto my finger. I wiggle my finger, the new weight of a ring unfamiliar. He leans forward and gently kisses my forehead. Alarm bells are ringing through my head, but I brush them aside. The Dr.'s did say that some confusion and anxiety disorders were normal after memory loss.

I offer him a small smile, and stand to my feet. "Should we go get lunch?" Damien nods enthusiastically, before telling me to change and meet him downstairs when I'm ready. I watch as he makes his way out the room, closing the door behind him. I let out a breath, that I didn't even know I was holding.

The study was connected to our bedroom, I quickly make my way through the door and lock it. I wasn't sure how much time I had, before he returned to check on me. Something he did often. My eyes scan our room, searching for anywhere I might find something to ease my anxiety.

The dresser. Damien and I have separate dressers, his drawers usually locked. I never questioned it before, because everyone needs their personal space. I tug on the top drawer, and surprisingly it pulled open with a creak. I carefully move his clothes around, in attempt to leave everything as is. A small piece of white paper, sticking out from the bottom of the drawer catches my eye. I tug, careful not to rip it.

I feel tears pool into my eyes, threatening to spill over when I see the photograph. It is a photograph that clearly has been edited to look like Damien and I, as if it were the first attempt at using Photoshop. I move the drawer slightly, and another paper flutters to the ground, this time another photograph. This one, not edited yet. A photo of me and a man I've never seen before. We were sitting on a wooden swing, laughing. He appeared the total opposite of Damien, with blonde hair and an electric smile.

A small knock at the door causes me to jump. "June-bug, you okay? Why is the door locked love?" Damien's muffled voice rings out from the other side of the door. I quickly put the papers back where I found them and unlock the door, taking a deep breath.

His green eyes meet mine, before scanning over my face. "Have you been crying? What happened?" I quickly wipe my eyes and give him a smile. "I'm okay, just a bad headache." The lie seems to work, as he reaches out and rubs my arm. "Let me go get you some water and medicine, we can do lunch tomorrow." He heads away, in the direction of the kitchen and I am hit with the realization of my situation.

Who really is Damien? Who is the blonde boy? But most importantly, what the hell is going on here.