Chapter 22

"So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me... everyday." Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

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Chapter Twenty – Two

She stared at the man in front of her, the man who seemed to be so happy that she had just signed her name on the parchment he had provided her with.

How had she done that? How had she written that name when she had no idea who she was?

But she had obeyed him, trusted him, even, as he had told her to look him in the eyes. She stared into his blue eyes as her instincts took over. He had kind eyes, she had decided, as her hand scribbled over the parchment. He had kind eyes and she found a faint sense of comfort in them. Comfort was not something that felt easily attainable at the present.

The name that these people called her was written on the parchment in front of her. Written in her own hand, though she did not even recognise her own writing.

Isabella Cassidy. Isabella Cassidy. Isabella Cassidy. No matter how many times she read and re-read that name, it felt foreign. Everything felt foreign.

She stared at the man who seemed to think it his right to sit on the same bed as her. Even though he had kind eyes, that still felt inappropriate. He had said his name was Luke. She knew him, apparently.

He started to talk to the others, the faces that she did not know, but she did not listen. She studied his face and searched her empty mind for any recollection of him.

He was a tall, lean man. He looked to be physically fit, as though he had a profession that required agility. The skin that was exposed was littered with little scars and nicks, most notably on his face. There was a pink scar near his left eye. It looked new. It reminded her of the scar that was on her head.

The blonde woman, the one who called herself Annaliese, her sister, or so she said, had shown her the scar on her head with a hand mirror shortly after she had woken up.

It had overwhelmed her. The information had been too much. The next thing she knew a rag was over her mouth and she woke up a while later.

She felt calmer today. She still had no idea who she was, but her memories had to have been inside of her somewhere. She had just written her name. The name that these people called her.

If these people were here, by her bedside, then she was important to them. And if she was important to them, then they had to be important to her as well.

She continued the study of the man on her bed. He was very handsome, in a rugged, tired sort of way. He had a pleasing face with slight purple shadows below his eyes. His light hair was untidy, but she thought it suited him.

It seemed she was a Cassidy. Annaliese, her sister, had given her surname as Cassidy. This man, Luke, had not given her his surname, but if it was Cassidy also, did that make him her brother?

The other faces at the doorway all wore the same expression. Hopeful. As though she would miraculously remember everything. She hoped that they were right.

"Isabella?"

Her attention was only caught when Luke reached out and touched her hand. She immediately recoiled, and she could see the hurt in his eyes as she did so.

She did not need to pull away, she decided. This man was trustworthy. Her instincts were telling her so. Seeing as she did not have anything else to rely upon, she would need to listen to them. She placed her hand back down on the bed. If he reached for her again, she would not pull away.

"Did you not hear me, Isabella?" Luke asked softly.

That name sounded odd to her. She still did not feel as though it belonged to her. But she only had to look down at the parchment to see that it had belonged to her at some point in time.

"What?" she asked timidly. No matter how hard she tried, she could not steady her voice. Her own voice sounded foreign to her. It was unnerving hearing the sounds she was making.

"We were just remarking how well you are taking this," replied Luke.

"Much better than yesterday," added Annaliese encouragingly.

"And I wanted to know if you had any questions. Surely you have questions." Luke smiled at her.

There was sincerity and hope in his kind eyes. She could trust this man. It was clear that she had trusted him before. The affection in his voice indicated to her that they were not siblings. The idea of anything else frightened her, though.

"Might we have a moment alone?" asked Luke to their audience.

Annaliese began to shuffle everyone out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving them alone.

She was alone with a man. Surely this was not allowed.

"I have died a thousand deaths worrying about you, Isabella," he confessed sincerely. He took her hand in his and she did not pull away. She could trust him. If those people left them alone together then he had to be an upstanding gentleman.

"Isabella," she repeated, testing the name on her lips. "You are certain Isabella Cassidy is my name?"

Luke nodded. He paused before saying, "That is your name, yes."

She sensed that he was holding something back. Her instincts urged her to test the theory. "And how long has that been my name?" she asked quietly. What if she was right? What did this mean? Her heart rate picked up as she saw the truth in his eyes.

"It has been your name for nearly four years. It will be four years this year," he admitted, spinning the little golden band on her bony left hand

She had not noticed it until that very moment. There was a wedding band on her left hand. How had she not seen that? Her breaths became fast and shallow as she looked from Luke to the wedding band and then back to Luke.

Four years.

She had been married for four years.

She loved this man. Or at least Isabella loved this man. Did Isabella love this man? He had not been there when she had woken. Annaliese had been the one at her bedside. If this man was her husband then where was he?

Her heart was beating so fast in her chest that it was hurting her. She could not suck enough air into her lungs. She felt as though she was suffocating. She pulled her hand away from Luke and placed it on her chest. She could not breathe.

Luke could see that she was panicking. Quicker than anything, she was in his arms. She was too surprised to feel more panicky. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against his chest. "It will be alright, Isabella. Just breathe," he said soothingly. He was breathing deeply and evenly.

She tried her best to match her staggered, shallow breaths to his. She closed her eyes and concentrated. In and out. She sucked in as much air as she could, trying to takes deep, even breaths. It took a few minutes but her breathing returned to normal, but she was able to do it.

Luke was rubbing her back. She had to admit that she felt safe in his arms. There was something reassuring about the position they were in. She ought to feel violated really. She was in the arms of a man she hardly knew. But to him, she was Isabella. His Isabella. Perhaps this was right, after all.

"I am better now," she told him softly, perhaps staying in his arms a little longer than she needed.

Luke pulled away a short distance so that he could look down at her. "I cannot imagine what this is like for you, Isabella. Anything you want to know, just ask me."

"I am married to you," she stated, finding steadiness in her voice.

"And I am married to you," he countered, smiling at her.

"Do you love me?" she asked, unable to hide the hope in her voice.

Luke's smile only widened. "Yes, I do love you, Isabella."

How did that feel? She was unsure. Luke loved Isabella. She could not call herself Isabella. Not yet anyway.

But it was still nice for her to know that Isabella had been clever enough to marry for love. "If you love me ... then where we you?" she asked nervously, not knowing whether she had to right to know this yet.

It was clear that Luke was taken aback by this question. He recoiled slightly. "Pardon?"

"Where were you?" she repeated with conviction. "Only Annaliese was here when I awoke. You were not here." She recalled the faces that she did not recognise, the faces that had gathered in her doorway only moments before. "All those people were not here. Something awful happened to me. Where were you?"

Luke looked torn. "I was in London," he told her, his tone telling her it was the truth.

London. London was far from Bath.

How could she remember things like that I not know who she was?

Nevertheless, why was he in London when she was in Bath?

"Why?" she asked.

"We were all in London for a very good reason," he continued carefully. "If you had your memories then you would understand. In fact, I would wager that you would have killed me if I had remained at your bedside if you knew."

"Knew what?" she prompted, becoming frustrated. What did she not know? She stopped herself, knowing that thought was stupid. She did not know anything.

Luke's face was contorting with a mixture of emotions. He looked truly torn. "Trust me, please. You will know all in good time. I think it best if we introduce you to parts of your life gradually. I do not want you becoming too overwhelmed again."

What could possibly be so shocking that it would overwhelm her? What could be so bad? What was he not telling her? Her heart rate started to race again and her breathing picked up. She practiced matching her breaths with Luke's once again. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps they ought to break it to her gently, though that did not make her feel any better.

She immediately flexed her toes, checking to see if she had both limbs. No, it was not that. She had all ten fingers. Aside from the pink scar on her head, she could not recall anything that was particularly heinous about her appearance. What could they possibly break to her?

She decided to trust Luke, and trust her former self's judgement in choosing the man that she had married. "Do you know exactly what happened to me?" she asked him, electing to move on from the subject.

Luke lifted his hand to the side of her head and combed his fingers through her hair. She felt his hand glide over the section that had been shaved for her surgical procedure. She was glad that her hair fell over that part. The hair there was short and prickly, but her healing scar was still pink and bald. "What have they told you?" he asked.

She thought back to the day before, when Annaliese had described the procedure that she had undertaken. The vision of a man drilling into her skull had sent her into a frightful panic. She took a deep breath. "The doctor needed to drill into my skull to save me."

Luke nodded. "You had a haemorrhage," he explained. "There was bleeding on your brain and in order to stop the swelling, your doctor needed to relieve the pressure. I thought he was insane. I told him so!" Luke was being sincere, but she could tell that he was grateful to the doctor for saving her.

She had no idea about what had happened to her. She had never heard of half of the words before, and she had never known that one could drill into a brain and the patient would live. Medicine was truly marvellous.

"Why did I have a haemorrhage?" she asked, surely mispronouncing that unfamiliar word.

"Annaliese did not tell you?"

"I think I was sedated before she got the chance," she confessed. It had all been a little new yesterday.

Luke exhaled sadly. "You were pushed down the stairs in our home," he told her slowly. "You hit your head."

She blinked several times, attempting to comprehend this new information. She was pushed. He had clearly said that she was pushed. Someone had pushed her. Someone had intentionally harmed her. "Who ... who would do such a thing?" she asked in disbelief.

"You really want to know?"

As soon as she nodded Luke began to tell her the story.

She listened as he told her that he had been injured away at sea. He was a naval captain and had been blinded in an attack on their ship at the conclusion of the Napoleonic Wars.

Luke had woken up in a London hospital, and was attended to by a nurse called Mary.

"Mary was not who she seemed," he warned, shaking his head.

She listened as Luke told her that Mary travelled with him back to their home in Somerset. Luke had hired Mary to be his personal nurse. He had been permanently blinded and he needed a nurse to look after him.

"Are you blind?" she had exclaimed, interrupting him mid-sentence.

"I will get to that," he told her.

She listened patiently as Luke told her of their transition. Apparently they had only been married a short time before he had been called away to sea. This was the first time they had seen each other in years.

"It was not the sort of reunion I had been imagining," he confessed.

Mary had rubbed the family the wrong way, it seemed. She had gone out of her way to isolate Luke.

"You never trusted her, and I did not listen to you."

This news startled her. She had not trusted this Mary ... or rather Isabella had not trusted Mary. Isabella had told Luke of this.

"She was in love with me," he confessed with a shudder. "She did it all because she had imagined up a reality in which I felt the same way about her. You were suspicious of her all along, and I just refused to see it." Luke hung his head. "When I did see it, it was too late. I ... I angered her in the end. I humiliated her in my refusal. She attacked me and then you. I was fine in the end, but you, my darling Isabella, you –" Luke reached out to cup her face but she immediately scrambled to move away from him.

She felt anger towards this man. She felt such extreme anger and disappointment towards this man that she barely knew.

But Isabella knew him. It seemed Isabella knew all along what was best, but Luke had not listened to her. Luke had dismissed Isabella's concerns in favour of some insane nurse who had made an attempt on both of their lives.

Luke claimed to love Isabella, but is this how one treated the woman they loved?

"No!" she said firmly. She held up her hand as he tried to move closer to her. "This happened to me because of you!" she exclaimed. Tears! Tears were falling from her eyes. She remembered the sensation of crying, and now she was feeling it. She had a feeling that Isabella had cried many times over the fool that was her husband.

"Isabella, I–"

"No!" she said again. "No, Isabella no longer exists because of you!" she cried. "You did this to me!" She held her head in her hands, brushing her fingers over the scar. "This is your fault!" she screamed. What was this rage she was feeling? She was livid! It was all so much!

"Isabella!" he tried again, but she slapped his hands away.

She glared up at him, though she could not see clearly through the tears. "It should have been you!" she seethed. "I do not deserve this! You were the one who did not listen to me! You said I warned you! It should have been you!"

Luke did not argue with her. "You are right," he whispered. "It should be me. Everything that happened is my fault. You do not know how I wish it was me in your position."

She was shaking as she clenched her teeth. "Wish harder," she snapped. She did not understand this anger, but she was feeling it with such intensity. "Get out," she ordered.

Luke nodded and rose from the bed. "I love you."

"Get out!" she screamed. She reached for the first thing that she could get her hands on. She threw her pillow at him, which landed at his feet.

Luke picked it up and placed it at the foot of the bed. He then placed his hands on her ankles and held them in place, perhaps knowing she would try to kick him. He looked her directly in the eye. "You cannot hate me more than I hate myself for what happened," he told her firmly. "I love you. I will come back to see you tomorrow."

She just glared at him. As soon as he was gone, she seized her pillow and screamed into it.

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Thanks for your patience. I'd like to say I have a good excuse for being late (I've gotten into a two chapters a fortnight habit) but I don't. Gilmore Girls. Man. Am I late to the party or what?

It's been popping up on my Netflix for freaking ages. Of course I'd heard of the show but I never watched it. The first time I saw Lauren Graham in anything was "The Pacifier" lol. First time I saw Vin Diesel too before I discovered "Fast & Furious" and fell in love with him.

Anyways, so I've started watching "Gilmore Girls" and I am obsessed of course. I'm only up to episode 8 but I'm obsessed. Every morning before work I sit in front of my mirror on my floor with my makeup in front of me and I have my iPad and my Netflix next to me and I watch episodes as I get ready for work. This was how I watched all 8 seasons of "Full House". Now it's "Gilmore Girls". And because I'm a hopeless romantic and I want Luke and Lorelai together I looked up when they do and I have to wait to the end of season 4 - are you freaking kidding me?

Today is 1 year to the day I started this story. Never taken me this long to write a book! Ugh - I'm getting there you guys - we're on the home stretch!

It was also my 5 year anniversary of joining Wattpad 4 days ago! Can't believe it's been 5 years!

I was about to finish Year 11 when I started posting my stuff on here. You guys were with me as I graduated high school. All through my first degree. And now I'm halfway through my Master's. I was a kid then, and now I'm an adult. Well, not really. Pretend adult. Kid with a drinking license. Though, I have cooked dinner three times this week so I'm getting there!

Thanks for your support, everyone. I know I suck at getting back to your messages, but I do read and appreciate every one! Every single one I see, read and love! It's awesome to know that there are really kind humans out there in this world (and humans who love historical romance as much as me!).

Now, I have to go. I have work in 8 hours and Rory and Lorelai are fighting and I have to see what happens next!

Vote and comment!