What the Fake Amnesia Revealed

I'd fallen from the top of the stairs and ended up in the hospital.

Standing in the doorway with a fruit basket in hand were my husband, Dwayne Arnault, and our son, Carl Arnault. The sight of them brought back something Carl had complained about once, "Mom, why are you always so serious? It's boring."

I'd fallen because Carl had scattered a handful of glass marbles at the top of the stairs while he was playing around. So when he and Dwayne walked in, I put on a look of confusion and asked, "Who are you?"

I'd expected to see panic on their faces, maybe some worry. What I got instead wasn't anything close.

Dwayne went quiet for a moment, then said, "My son and I are here to see my wife. Sorry, we must have the wrong room."

I looked at Carl next. He was young, and no matter how hard he tried to hide it, I could still see a flicker of pure delight on his face.

I froze.

Carl tugged at Dwayne's sleeve and motioned for him to bend down, then whispered something in his ear. His voice was too quiet to hear, but I'd studied lip-reading once, and I could "see" what he said. "Dad, now that Mom's lost her memory, can't you just trick her into signing the divorce papers? Then you can marry Laurel... I really like Laurel. I want her to be my new mommy."

My heart dropped straight into a frozen abyss. I went cold all over, shaking.

I never imagined that the child I'd carried for nine months, the one I'd nearly died giving birth to, would be the one pushing his own father to divorce his own mother. I knew Carl well enough to know he wasn't joking. He meant every word.

Before Dwayne could even answer, Carl was already tugging him toward the door. "Bye, Ma'am. My daddy and I are going to go see my mommy."

I bit down on the pain tearing through me and crept to the doorway of the room next door. Through the gap in the door, I watched everything unfold inside.

Carl was holding the hand of a woman lying in the hospital bed, while Dwayne wrapped his arms around both of them. Father and son wore the same expression — one of tender concern for her.

When I finally got a clear look at the woman's face, it hit me like a bolt out of a clear sky. My whole body went rigid.

The woman was Laurel Winters — Dwayne's first love, the woman he'd never gotten over.

I watched the two of them fuss over Laurel, coaxing her to take her medicine, practically dancing around her to keep her happy. No one would have believed that the ruthless CEO who ran boardrooms like a battlefield and the prodigy son everyone praised could look so pathetic.

Carl said to her, "Laurel, you have no idea. Mommy just lies there in bed like a sack of meat — it's disgusting to even look at! When can you be my mommy already? Then you could go to my parent-teacher conferences instead of her..."

He rattled it off sweet as honey, but every word cut into me like a blade, leaving me raw and bleeding.

I never thought the two people I cherished most in the world could look at me with such contempt.

I couldn't stand to watch their happy little family scene any longer. Numb, I made my way back to my own room. A nurse spotted me and rushed over, steadying me with obvious concern. "You just woke up — you need to rest. The doctor said you have a mild concussion..."

As she efficiently administered my medication, she kept talking. "That family next door, I don't even know what to say. The woman cut her finger, and those two — father and son — acted like the world was ending. They practically wanted to tear the hospital apart, like that little cut could hurt the baby she's carrying..."

Her words sent a wave of shock crashing through me.

Once she'd finished with my medication, she asked gently, "What about your family? Your condition isn't mild — you really should have someone looking after you."

I gave a hollow smile and said, without any strength left in my voice, "I don't have any family. My husband and son are dead to me."