Instead of replying, I carry on, “You live and ride with a motorcycle club. The Satan’s Devils MC.”
His eyes are looking at me sharply. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m telling the truth, Lizard.”
For a moment he just regards me as though trying to judge whether I’m joking or not. Then, he sighs, and once more touches that bandage. “Christ, my head must be fucked up. I thought I heard you say I ride with a motorcycle club.”
“I did, Lizard. You do.”
“I’m dreaming, aren’t I? Having a fuckin’ nightmare. Pinch me, Vanna. I want to wake up.”
He’s in such distress, I sob, wishing I could. I try to drop the conversation, but he won’t let up, asking me to repeat what I’m telling him again and again.
Eventually, he touches his hair again. “I can’t compute it Vanna. Twelve years have gone past when I’ve been a fully functioning human being with a good job. Manager, huh?” He moves his head side to side very slowly. “Can almost accept that part. But riding with a motorcycle club? Living with them? Fuck babe, how the hell did I get mixed up in that shit?” He frowns. “They legit?”
I shrug. “They say they are, but they wear the one-percenter patch.”
His face tightens. “I got you mixed up in it too? You, and little Cas?”
“They’re good men, Liz.” I find myself defending them and then tell him the truth. “I don’t know how you joined them. Look, Liz. I really don’t know how to tell you this.” His intense stare makes me carry on. “After the first time in the hospital, Lizard, you lost your memory. You didn’t recognise me or Cas.”
His jaw drops. He’s quiet for a moment. “There’s more, isn’t there, Vanna. Tell me.”
“You were suffering.” I try to explain to him. “Living with us wasn’t helping you. I was your wife, but to you, both Cas and I were strangers. It was fucking with your head. You left, and your therapist said that was the best for you.”
“I couldn’t remember you? What the fuck are you saying, Evangeline?” His eyes are going wild.
“Liz, I think you should get some rest.” I’m worried I’m telling him too much, too soon.
“Evangeline,” he growls. “Tell me what the fuck you’re talking about. Now.”
It’s breaking my heart to tell him this. “You lost about five years. You couldn’t remember us meeting, marrying, or Cas being born.”
“Jesus H Christ. When did I recover? When did we get back together? How long did I forget you for? For fuck’s sake, Vanna. How could I forget you? Tell me, for the love of God. How long was it before I recognised you again?”
He’s getting agitated which can’t be good for him.
“Tell me. Fuckin’ tell me.”
Do I tell him or run away, as that’s the only way this conversation will stop? He’s not going to give up.
“Evangeline,” he snarls. “When did I remember you?”
The word comes out on a sob, though I try to swallow it. “Today.” My voice breaks. “Today, Lizard. This is the first time you’ve recognised me in twelve years.”
As the tears start flowing, he reaches over with his left arm and pulls me down against his chest, holding me as tight as a man who’s only just come out of surgery can, as if he’s never going to let me go.
We lie like that for a few minutes, my cheek against his heart, feeling it beating strongly. Me taking this chance in case I lose him again, hoping this time he’ll hold tight to the memory.
“Twelve years.” I hear his voice and feel it rumble against my skin. “Twelve fucking years we’ve been apart.”
“Ten,” I correct. “We tried for two years but couldn’t reconnect. It’s then you left me.”
“And went off to join a fuckin’ biker club.” Suddenly he tenses. “That shit stops now. Not getting you involved in something like that. The only good thing about us being apart is that I apparently didn’t drag you down with me.”
“Liz…” I want to defend his club, but he’s not finished.
“What have I missed, apart from Cas growing up? Have you moved on? Found a new man, Vanna? Tell me. Vanna. Fuck. It feels to me like I only left to go on tour six months ago, but we’ve…” His voice breaks, and then he continues, “We tried to make it work for two years, so ten I’ve been gone? I suppose I couldn’t blame you if you’re another man’s now. Is it that fucker who was in here before?”
“No.” I free myself from his hold so I can stare intently into his eyes. “No, Lizard. I still wear your ring.” I show my hand to him. “I’ve remained faithful. I never gave up hope.”
“What about me?” he says gruffly. “If I didn’t know I had a wife… Christ.” He huffs a mirthless laugh. “Don’t tell me there’s another woman I’ve laid claim to.” He raises his left hand and stares at it. “I don’t wear my ring?”
“They had to cut it off the first time, your hand swelled.” It had broken my heart, but it was necessary. “You didn’t find anyone else, Liz,” I reassure him fast, not telling him that, unlike me, he hadn’t remained celibate.
He hugs me again, again with just that left arm. I watch the right, but it doesn’t twitch. That worries me. Almost as much as this conversation does.
“If I remained faithful, I must have known you were out there, and I was just waiting for the right time to come back.”
He’ll find out as soon as he goes back to the club. If he does, I correct. But as soon as they see him, Titsy, Sheila and the others will be all over him. I decide to leave it, I’m laying far too much on him now.
But he’s remembered too well. Seems I couldn’t control the expression on my face.
“There’s more, isn’t there? Tell me. Tell me now.” He waits.
“Lizard, you didn’t have a special someone, but you didn’t go wanting if you know what I mean.”
“Babe?”
“The MC has club girls…”
“Oh fuck.” He looks and sounds horrified. “Babe…”
I decide to be honest. “Liz, I didn’t like seeing it, but you didn’t know you were married. You can’t be blamed for something you didn’t know you’d done.” Am I being truthful letting him believe I accept it? It hurts. A lot.
But he sees the pain in my eyes. “I’ll never hurt you again, Vanna. I promise.”
“I only found out about ten days ago, Liz. I came to find you. Why doesn’t matter for now.” I don’t want to heap more problems on him.
“I want to see Cas.” He says after a moment, “How old is he again?”
“He’s fourteen. And he’s here. Do you want me to get him?”
“Yeah,” the word’s breathed out. “So much to get my head around. My baby’s a teenager, almost a grown man.”
“Is it too much? Do you want to rest before you see him?”
“Rest?” he huffs. “I’m fuckin’ terrified I’ll forget everything if I close my eyes and sleep. Twelve years, babe. Twelve years have gone by and I don’t fuckin’ remember. And before that? Another period I blanked out apparently.” He grimaces. “What if I forget everything again? What if I forget who I fuckin’ am? What if I end up a vegetable, unable to remember anything at all?”