This is Beautiful (Logan & Kayla, #2) (Checkmate Duet Series Book 6)

CHAPTER ONE LOGAN Who is he? Who is he? Her words repeat in my mind, my stomach feeling sick at the realization of what’s happening. How’d she remember Viola and Courtney, but she looks at me as if I have a third eye? So many things are running through my head at once, I can barely focus long enough to hear what the nurse is saying. Just as I’m about to tell her I’m her boyfriend, the same nurse that was here the first day steps in. “This is Detective Knight. He was the first to arrive when you came in.” What the f**k? “Oh. What for?” she asks, trying to not look directly at me. “He just wanted to ask you some questions about the incident, but if you’re not up for it, it’s no problem.” She swallows, blinks, and then finally looks at me. “I’m not sure I’ll be much help.” “Do you remember what happened?” I barge into the conversation. “Can you tell me what you were doing at the time of the incident?” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and shakes her head. “You don’t remember or you can’t tell me?” I ask, eagerly. “I-I don’t remember.” Her bottom lip starts to tremble, and I feel like the biggest asshole in the world for scaring her. “Perhaps Detective Knight can come back when you’re feeling better,” Sara states with a clip in her voice. Just as I’m about to argue with her so I can stay, Kayla speaks up. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” “All right,” Sara bites out. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions just to gauge where you’re at, okay?” “Why? Is something wrong with me?” Kayla asks, scared, and I wish more than anything that I could wrap her in my arms and comfort her. “No, honey. It’s very common to not remember an incident. But to be safe, I’m going to ask you some routine questions to gauge what you do or don’t remember, okay?” Kayla nods, looking sheepish. “Can you tell me your name?” Her name? Of course, she knows her name. She has to. “Kayla Adele Sinclair,” she answers softly, lowering her eyes. “Adele was apparently a family name.” How ironic considering none of her family stuck around to raise her. “Do you know your birthday, Kayla?” “December twenty-fifth.” The nurse looks down at the chart and confirms it with a nod. Wait, what? After all the times we talked about her love for Christmas, not once had she ever mentioned it was also her birthday. Now that I think about it, we weren’t together during the holidays and since everyone was always doing their own things, it was never brought up. I can’t believe I never thought to ask. What the f**k kind of boyfriend am I? Apparently a bad one. I gasp aloud and she looks up at me briefly before shifting her eyes back to the nurse. She looks at me like I’m a stranger. “Can you tell me your address?” Sara asks. Kayla answers correctly. “Where do you work?” Kayla answers correctly again. “What year is it?” She pauses, her eyes blinking and moving back and forth as if she really has to think about it. “Kayla?” Sara grabs her attention. “Um…” She shakes her head as if she’s trying to clear out her mind. “2015.” My breath hitches, and I see the way Sara tenses. She’s as shocked as I am. Kayla notices, her eyes focusing in on us as if she’s trying to read our thoughts. “Is that wrong?” she asks, her tone sad. When neither of us answers, she continues. “It’s wrong, isn’t it?” Before she can freak out, Sara calms her. “Kayla, honey, it’s going to be okay. It’s perfectly normal for someone in your position to be a little confused.” Sara’s words seem to calm Kayla, but not me. I only met Kayla a little less than two years ago, so if she doesn’t recognize me and thinks it’s 2015, there’s a possibility she won’t be able to remember me at all. “Can I speak to you out in the hall?” I ask Sara, tilting my head toward the door. “Yes, absolutely.” She then turns back toward Kayla. “I’m going to call the doctor and let him know you’re awake. He may want to order more testing, so just hang tight, okay?” I follow Sara out into the hallway and wait for her to close the door before speaking up. “What the—” “Detective Knight, please.” She holds her hand up before I can even finish my sentence. “You bombarding her with facts she can’t remember will not help her. It’ll only confuse her more.” “How? Shouldn’t we tell her it’s 2017 and that I’m her boyfriend to jog her memory or something?” I ask, frantic. “No, it’s the opposite actually. If you tell her things she doesn’t remember, she won’t know what is a memory and what she’s only remembering from what she was told. She needs to remember on her own,” she tells me sincerely, yet it does nothing for my heart. “So, what? I just pretend I’m only here for the incident and that our friendship for the past two years never existed?” She can tell I’m upset and tries to calm me by placing her palm on my arm. “I assure you, it’s the only way. If she doesn’t remember you now, it doesn’t mean she won’t. Give her time. For now, just be a part of her support team.” I inhale a deep breath, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Be a part of her support team? Please. How am I supposed to just stand back and pretend I’m not helplessly in love with a girl who can’t remember me and watch as she forgets everything we’ve had? “I’m going to tell her friends the same thing. Let her tell you what she remembers, and once she goes home, things might start coming back to her organically,” she tells me. “Might?” “We won’t know for sure until we get the results back from her MRI. All we can do is observe her for now. Symptoms like hers aren’t uncommon, but it’s enough to raise some concern, which is why I’m going to page her doctor to do a more thorough exam and see if there’s any other testing he suggests.” “So, what do I do now? Go in there and pretend to only be a detective on her case?” “Well, considering she doesn’t remember the incident, there’s nothing you can do as a detective.” “What are you saying?” “I’m saying you need to walk away for now. You being there will only confuse her more. She’ll start to ask questions about why you’re there and what happened. She needs to be around people she remembers. It may spark something later.” I lick my lips and brush a hand through my hair, frustration and anger boiling inside me. I can’t f*****g believe this. How the hell am I supposed to just walk away? “Her friends will be here soon. I’ll let them know.” I turn and leave before she can respond. It’s best I don’t blow up at the nurse responsible for my girlfriend right now, but it takes every ounce of willpower inside me to walk away. Waking up in a room you don’t recognize with a person you don’t know staring back at you is one of the weirdest moments of my life. I woke up to a pulsating ache on the back of my head and a fuzzy memory. Trying to think of the last thing that happened is harder than it sounds because I can’t remember much at all. I don’t know why I’m in here or who that insanely good-looking guy was, and although he claims to be a detective, I have a feeling that’s not the entire truth. He called me Angel and kissed my hand. So, if he’s more than just a detective, wouldn’t I know something like that? Feeling anxious, a million questions swirl in my mind as I wait for the nurse to come back. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to focus on the last thing I remember. Viola had baby James a few months ago. I remember holding him. Courtney and I were talking about wedding details and bridesmaid dresses for Viola and Travis’ wedding this fall. I just had my first real promotion at my job. Nothing else comes clearly to mind. Dating wasn’t something I did a lot of, yet I have a feeling that guy was something to me. I just can’t f*****g remember! Finally, the nurse walks in with a smile and tells me the doctor is on his way to speak to me. “Can you tell me what happened?” I blurt out before she walks out. “Or what year it really is?” She turns and faces me, her expression not giving much away until she lowers her eyes, and I can tell there’s something she’s not telling me. “All I can say is that it’s 2017. You had an incident that involved you smacking your head, and we kept you sedated for a few days while we waited for the swelling in your brain to go down.” “Has it gone down?” “Yes, that’s why we felt confident in decreasing the sedation.” “Then why do I think it’s two years ago? That doesn’t make any sense.” She walks closer to my bed and wraps her hands around the railing. “There’s still a lot we don’t know about the brain, sweetie. Sometimes to protect you from tragic events, your brain blocks out the memory of the event. Usually, it’s temporary.” “But sometimes it’s not?” She swallows and nods. “Sometimes it’s permanent.” I blink. “Wow.” “There’s no way of knowing for sure. Patients wake up and lose days to years of their life without ever getting those memories back. Sometimes it takes a few weeks and things starts to come back to them.” “Then what? What do those people do who don’t remember?” “Well, they go live their life the best they can. Fortunately, you have great friends who have been here for you, and I have no doubt they’ll help you get through this.” “Yeah, Courtney and Viola. How come I can remember them?” “You knew them in 2015?” she asks, and I confirm with a nod. “Your brain is only blocking memories up to a certain time frame.” “Which is why I don’t remember that guy,” I say, mostly to myself, but I know she hears me. “He’s not a detective on my case, is he?” I ask, looking directly in her eyes so I can read her. She purses her lips. “I can’t say. I’m sorry.” My shoulders slouch just as a knock sounds from the door. “Come in,” I yell before the nurse can shoo anyone away. Courtney and Viola nearly knock each other over rushing to my bed. “Oh my God!” I hear Courtney. They both lunge at me, and the nurse is quick to move out of their way. She lets herself out and I know I only have a few minutes with them alone before the doctor comes in. “I’m so happy to see your faces!” I tell them, hugging both of their necks. “How are you feeling?” Viola asks, both taking a seat at the edge of my bed. “Logan gave us a quick update, but—” “Who’s Logan?” I interrupt. They look at me like I grew a second head. “Oh, that must be Detective Knight, right?” Viola looks over at Courtney as she nods. “Yeah, he told us that you were having some complications,” Courtney says as if she’s trying to be sensitive, but I don’t need her to be. I need answers. “The nurse won’t tell me much, but I need to know. Am I dating that guy? The nurse said he was a detective on my case, but the way he was touching and looking at me, I don’t buy it.” “You two have been dating for the last few months,” Courtney tells me. “You’re like in love and all that,” Viola says with a sweet smile. “Really?” I gasp, blushing. “First time dating a hot guy who loves me, and I don’t remember him? How f*****g convenient,” I mutter. “Well, and according to you, he’s amazing in bed,” Viola adds. Courtney whacks her in the arm and gives her a look. “Ow!” She starts rubbing the sore spot. “What was that for?” “Logan told us to be careful what we tell her and you jump right into their s*x life?” Courtney scolds. “Maybe it’ll spark a memory!” Viola tries to defend herself. I burst out laughing for the first time in days, and I can feel the affects of it in my chest. I’ve been lying in bed so long, I’m starting to get tight and achy. “So basically, I’m in love with a really hot guy who’s fantastic in bed and I can’t remember ever meeting him? Is that where I’m at?” I ask, although my tone is laced with sarcasm. “This is just my luck. Seriously.” “Kay,” Courtney says, soothingly, “there’s a good chance your memory will come back.” “And there’s also a chance it won’t,” I spit back. Just then I notice Courtney’s rock on her left ring finger. “Wait.” I grab her hand and inspect the ring. “Are you married?” Courtney and Viola both pause and watch my reaction. Glancing at Viola’s hand, I see there’s a rock on her left ring finger, too. I knew about her and Travis being engaged, but not married. But I guess since it’s 2017, they would be married by now. “I don’t remember you dating anyone,” I tell her. “In the two years I don’t remember, you dated, got engaged, and married someone?” The surprise in my tone is evident, not because Courtney isn’t a total catch, but that seems like a huge life milestone in just a couple of years. “Yup,” she says, smiling brightly. “Remember Viola’s brother, Drew?” My brows shoot up. “Oh my God! The cop?” “Mm-hmm,” she says. “That’s him.” “What?” I gasp. “Are you serious?” Viola notices how freaked out I am and starts shooting looks over at Courtney. “Maybe we shouldn’t be telling you all of this. Logan said we’re not supposed to tell you things you don’t remember.” “What? Why?” I ask, annoyed. “Why the hell not?” “Well, that’s what the nurse told him,” Courtney chimes in. “Apparently, we’re supposed to let your memory come back naturally; otherwise, you won’t know if you’re remembering a memory or if you’re just remembering what you were told.” “Ugh,” I groan. “So, I’m supposed to go home thinking it’s two years ago and live life normally?” Before they can answer my rhetorical question, a soft knock comes from the door, and the doctor steps inside with Sara following behind. “Hello, Kayla. It’s nice to see you awake.” He shoots a smile in my direction, and I want to beg him to fix me. “I’m Doctor Harris.” “Hi, Doctor Harris,” I say. “These are my friends, Courtney and Viola.” He nods in their direction and smiles. “I was hoping to examine you and see if you needed any further testing.” He flashes his eyes over to them sitting on the edge of my bed, signaling he wants them to leave, and they get the hint. “Call us later, okay? We’ll come back as soon as you say the word.” Courtney and Viola wrap their arms around my neck one more time. “She’ll more than likely be moved to another floor, so visiting hours will be a little more flexible,” Sara tells them. I tell them goodbye and watch them leave. A feeling of loneliness overwhelms me, and I wish they could’ve stayed. Doctor Harris waits until the door closes behind them before talking. He describes what he’s going to do before he feels around my neck and head. He looks in my eyes, ears, and nose. He listens to my heart and chest. All routine stuff. “I think to be on the cautious side, I’m going to order another MRI and CT scan to make sure there’s no bleeding that was missed or swelling that’s putting pressure on certain areas of your brain.” “Is that all necessary?” I ask. His lips tilt into a smile. “I’m always extra thorough.” He winks and pats my arm. “Best case scenario, everything will check out just fine and you’ll get moved to the recovery floor where they’ll assist you with some rehab treatment.” “Rehab?” “Neurological and cognitive rehab therapy, if needed. Again, just precautionary. It’s likely your memory will return as normal, but in the event it doesn’t, you’ll need some help rehabbing back into your life.” His words are clear, yet they sound muffled in my mind. Everything seems to be happening so fast, I can barely catch up with this new reality. I blink a few times, over and over, wondering if I’m having a nightmare and I just need to wake up. But when the doctor pats my arm once more, the feeling rippling against my skin, I know I’m living a real-life nightmare and there’s no waking up from it.