Elise Gilmore
I awake with a start, surprised to find myself face down in dirt. I try to push myself up to a standing position, but the throbbing in my head thwarts that idea. Instead, I roll onto my back and take a few deep breaths.
Where am I? And what happened?
Those questions fade for a moment as the nurse in me takes over. I pull my legs up one at a time, feeling for injuries. Then I do the same with my arms and torso. I hesitate before carefully feeling my face and head, searching for the source of my headache. When my hand encounters a thick substance—blood, I’m sure—on the left side of my face, I freeze. I try to focus on what happened, but my mind’s blank.
“Anyone there?” someone yells.
Startled by their closeness, I scramble to sit up, pushing past the pain. I look around, wishing I had a stick I could use to defend myself, but all I see is a large cluster of tree roots. I pull at the closest one, but it doesn’t budge.
“Mallory!”
Wait. Is that—“Over here!” I call out.
Relief runs through me when my best friend Gabe rushes around the bend in the trail dressed in his EMT uniform. He pauses for a moment, one hand over his mouth, before he hurries forward, drops to his knees, and pulls me close.
“I thought I’d lost you, babe,” he whispers into my hair before placing a gentle kiss on the top of my head.
I pull back, confused. “Did you just call me babe? And you kissed me?”
His eyebrows furrow together, then he scoots back. “Does anything hurt?” he asks, switching into work mode.
I frown, annoyed he didn’t answer my questions. My throbbing head reminds me there are more important things at hand. I sigh. “I don’t seem to have any broken bones. Just a few scrapes. It doesn’t hurt to breathe, so I don’t think any ribs are broken. And nothing hurt when I completed a cursory abdominal assessment.”
“May I?” He gestures to my legs.
I nod, and he begins his own evaluation.
“I’m pretty sure I have a contusion on my head.”
His eyes snap to mine for a moment before he looks away, quickly finishing his scan of my legs and arms before moving his attention to my head.
He gingerly touches around the cut. “It’s pretty deep, but thankfully the bleeding’s stopped.” He reaches into the first aid kit he brought and pulls out gauze and a couple of antiseptic wipes. “Do you have any idea what happened?”
I wince as he begins cleaning the wound. “That’s the funny thing. I can’t remember anything about today. Not why I’m here or what happened.” I try to flip back in my memory to yesterday or the day before, but it all feels hazy.
“Well…” He keeps his attention on my head as he continues to clean and bandage my wound. “What do you remember?”
“I remember that we’re best friends.” I look over at him as he digs for something else in his kit.
He stops and meets my gaze. “Just friends?”
“That’s what I remember.” I feel my cheeks heat as I think about the crush I’ve harbored for Gabe the last few years. I don’t remember us having a conversation about it, but maybe now’s the time?
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and look at the ground. “I mean, I’ve had a crush on you for a few years, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Gabe chuckles softly beside me.
I clamp my mouth shut. Clearly, now was not the time. I shouldn’t be making life-changing decisions while injured. “Never mind,” I choke out as tears start flowing down my face.
“Mallory.” Gabe gently takes my face in his hands and wipes the tears off my cheeks. “I know about your crush.”
My mouth hangs open.
“Because you told me three months ago.”
“I…I did?” My brain still feels discombobulated as I try to flip through recent memories.
“I think you might have—” he gives me a sheepish smile—“amnesia.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Gabe, you know as well as I do that retrograde amnesia doesn’t happen nearly as often as books and movies suggest.”
“But it’s not unheard of, accompanying a concussion or head trauma, is it?”
It’s not. When we studied head injuries in nursing school, we covered the possible causes and symptoms of amnesia. If the brain is damaged in the right place, even a mild concussion can cause temporary memory loss. I’ve seen it in the ER a few times.
I feel his gaze on me. “I guess not.” I’m surprised to see a tenderness in his eyes I haven’t seen before. Or maybe I have and just don’t remember. “What else am I forgetting?”
“That right after you told me about your crush, I confessed my feelings for you.” He smiles at me, and I swear I see hearts in his eyes.
“Well, now the pet name and kiss make more sense.” I toss him my most carefree smile.
He kisses the top of my left hand.
My breath catches. “So, we’re dating?”
“Not quite.” He holds up my left hand. “We’re engaged.”
I stare at the small, sparkling diamond on my hand. “I forgot our engagement?” My heart falls. “What if I never remember?”
Gabe clears his throat. “I have an idea if you’re up for it.”
I nod, willing to try anything to get these precious memories back. He gently places his hand on my neck and pulls me toward him. When our lips meet, everything becomes clear.
I can see it all.
Our heart-to-heart on my front porch.
The flowers Gabe brought when he picked me up for our first official date.
His proposal under a sky full of stars.
And all the stolen kisses in between.
“I remember,” I whisper.
Currently, she is writing her first novel inspired by the summers spent working at a camp on the Carolina coast.
She lives in South Carolina with her husband and two boys. When she isn’t writing or reading, you might find her drinking tea or kombucha, obsessing about Pride and Prejudice, or singing and dancing around her house.
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