I woke up and stared at the ceiling. I had cried a storm last night in my bathroom all because I remembered GETWAY magazine. I felt some sense of loss and bleakness but I woke up feeling much better today. No one had warned me about how sorrowful getting my memory back would be. So far I had two flashbacks and nothing else. I actually prayed the next wouldn't be so hurtful. Even though, I love to sit in my ignorance, my heart and body knew so much that I didn't. His voice had me so excited, his mere presence made me so happy. This was such an automatic response that I had no control over. Why was my body rejoicing over a stranger's presence? It's as if my heart and body had decided that my brain did not deserve to join whatever party they were at. My brain would obviously ruin the party— I think.

Getting out of bed was a struggle. I did not want to participate in life today. What would I do? Sit around and wait for something to come back to me... I wanted to go out. Do I have a car? I wanted to go to the beach. I had exhausted reading, television was an absolute nuisance. I couldn't clean, Florence warned me over and over again that I shouldn't. I wanted to take a walk but would I remember my way home? I'm not too sure if that would be the safest way to go after I had entertained myself with true crime series yesterday.

I did not want to eat.

"You have to Mrs Dos Santos that way you can have your medication?" Florence insisted the minute I went downstairs to find the woman from yesterday enjoying waffles on our breakfast table. She gave me a grimace before asking "Hi Soraya!" Flipping her long brown hair to one side. Still dressed in yesterday's clothing.

"Hi..." I said awkwardly.

"I'm Paula Wagner. Lorenzo's assistant." She said. "Ren tells me you can't remember much."

"Who is that?"

"Oh Lorenzo, I'm sorry. I'm used to calling him Ren." She shrugged. I didn't have a solid opinion of her just yet.

"Oh okay." I said, not really impressed. I wasn't jealous, I was simply annoyed from the moment I woke up. I'm sure she was a nice young woman.

"You seem very close for someone who is just an assistant?" I said taking a seat.

She smiled broadly. "Little secret, we're engaged." She flashed her diamond ring at me. "Have been for a while now. Lorenzo had been having a hard time getting the divorce papers done."

"That's a beautiful ring." I told her.

She grinned. "It's his great great great grandmothers. It's the Dos Santos family heirloom."

"I see."

"Lorenzo had a hard time trying to get you to give it up. I mean it was only right that if you're getting divorced you give him back his ring but no you were very stubborn. Threw it in the pool out of anger."

I gasped. "I did that?"

What type of a person was I? Why was I so bitter and inconsiderate? I couldn't have—

"Yes, you were crazy girl. I'm even surprised you're comfortably sitting across me without fighting. Turns out Crazy black woman isn't just a stereotype."

"Miss Paula, Mr Dos Santos wouldn't be very happy with this. He said to allow her to remember on her own." Florence interrupted a little concerned.

"Not to worry Florence, I was simply giving her an overview of what she put us through. We can't forget that."

"Well no need to worry about me now." I told her. "He is all yours." I meant that.

"Most definitely. His mama in Portugal was so delighted to hear that the ring wasn't with a black woman anymore." She got close and whispered. "...little secret... his family is quite racist and couldn't stand you..."

"Oh..." I felt my eyes sting. I hated how my body reacted to things that my brain did not even know about or comprehend.

"I'm glad, he found what his family was looking for. I'm happy for you both. I see why he was so desperately wanted a divorce."

Florence looked at me with pity.

Lorenzo then joined us on the table with a huge smile on his face. Admittedly, he was a good looking man who did every suit he wore justice. I turned to look at my plate.

"Morning Soraya, feeling better?"

I only nodded.

"Your psychotherapist should be coming in tomorrow for your first session. Goes by the name Dr. Craig Jensen. Just spoke to him and he asked what time you're most comfortable with. I just told him 12pm would be alright."

"That's fine." I told him, playing with my food.

There was no feeling worse than knowing you're not wanted. I excused myself.

As I did, I heard him whisper 'Paula, what did you say to her?'

'Babe, nothing I swear!!!'

As soon as I laid back in my bed, there was a knock on the door.

"Florence, I will—"

"It's Lorenzo, may I come in?" His voice was deep and sounded concerned.

"Yeah sure."

He got in and closed the door behind him. He seemed nervous as I waited for him to speak. His hands in his pockets, looking at me cautiously with concern.

"She is just an assistant."

"You don't owe me an explanation." I smiled lightly even though I wanted to say 'that's why she is wearing your racist family's ring.'

"She always makes irrational comments, I suppose she wanted to see if you really have amnesia by saying things that she knew always ticked you off."

"Of course, like the part about your family being racist. For goodness sake this sham of a marriage just doesn't get any better." I laughed, genuinely laughed.

"...not racist..." He cleared his throat.

"You don't have to defend anything. I understand. I'm just a little shocked because it feels like this is all new to me. I get that you really wanted that green card but marrying someone your family greatly disapproves of. That's just some over the top romcom nonsense if you ask me."

A little offended, he chuckled. "I wanted that greencard? Out of everything, I've told you that's the only thing that makes sense to you. I loved you Soraya! I loved you with everything I had. I loved you and deep down somewhere you know that. You know, I did. Things did not go as planned but you know I loved you." He said the last part lowly.

"Right..." I replied awkwardly.

"Right!" He replied. His heavy accent was definitely something I had to get used to.

There was silence.

"Call me if you need anything. I'm leaving."

I was left alone with my thoughts.

Suddenly the phone on my bedside rang. It was a house landline. That way I could call Florence if I needed her. Lorenzo had not allowed me to have my phone. Nonetheless thinking it's Florence, I ignored it. Eventually it left a message.

"Good Morning Mr Dos Santos, we've been trying to get ahold of you for the past two days. Your wife's blood test came back and she is about 2 weeks pregnant. The accident did not harm the baby in anyway. She should be scheduled for another check up. Our neurologist must have only focused on her amnesia. We will refer you to a good gynaecologist. Please get back to us when you can. Good day."

I jumped out of my bed, pacing back and forth. They must have meant Paula not me maybe someone else not me. How had I even—

We sleep in different rooms.

It was probably a mistake.

Running downstairs, I went to look for Florence to ask her the most personal question that would either give me clarity or make me suspicious.

"Did...did Uh—" I paused looking for the right words. She gave me a warm smile as she focused on watering her garden in our backyard.

"I know Lorenzo and I were not on good terms but I wanted to know if we— uhm— we obviously sleep in different rooms so—" sighing "for like seven months like you said."

"If you had sex?" She chuckled going straight to the point.

I awkwardly nodded.

"Yes, especially after almost every argument. It seemed like your norm. I always said this, you couldn't stay away from each other regardless of any argument or how angry you both were at each other. He couldn't stay away from you even if he wanted or promised to."

"That doesn't sound healthy." I murmured.

"Is there a reason why—" I immediately stopped her.

"No no no, I was just curious don't mind me."

Now I had every reason to want to remember my past. I couldn't bring a child into such a toxic situation. If I remembered in time, I could abort before sixteen weeks. I had merely thirteen weeks left to figure out what I needed to do. Lorenzo was definitely not an option. So I replayed and replayed that message before permanently deleting it and checking if the phone downstairs had captured any of it. I then called them back telling them, there was no need to call Mr Dos Santos as his assistant, I had already informed him. I felt like a mental person, my opinion wasn't valued not by lawyers or doctors or anyone of importance. They all saw me as this struggling woman with amnesia. It felt degrading. I knew they wouldn't allow me to abort if they knew, I have amnesia. I wasn't sure what my old self would have done but we hadn't had a child in five years clearly we did not want that. This must have been a slip up. Lorenzo and I had jinxed it with our words from the other day.

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