Bad Memory

~ Questions Without Answers ~

So I nodded.

"You promise?"

"I do," I answered softly.

"Then tell me-are you upset?" he asked, leaning in so close I could smell his cologne. Or maybe it was just his soap? It was such a subtle scent...something warm and woodsy like cedar.

"It doesn't matter," I replied dismissively.

"It does to me."

I looked at his earnest expression and sighed. Good wives didn't burden their husbands with their feelings. But Ezra wasn't giving me much of an option.

"Yes, I'm upset," I admitted. "But wouldn't you be? Waking up to find that part of your life has been erased, and you don't know how or why? I don't remember when we first met, our first kiss, anything. And no one will explain anything to me. That wouldn't bother you?"

"I suppose it would," Ezra murmured to himself. Then, without warning, he stood up and walked to the door.

"Wait!" I called after him.

He didn't. I cursed as I watched him leave. A great start - forgetting my husband and then trying to convince him to violate orders he was duty-bound to follow. He could easily decide I wasn't worth the trouble and cast me out.

Just as I started to worry, though, he returned. But my heart sank when two other generals with highly-decorated uniforms followed him in. The first I didn't recognize, but the second was instantly identifiable: hair soaked in gel and combed over to hide his bald spot, cruel dark eyes, and an air of arrogance so strong it was nearly suffocating...General Quade apparently hadn't changed during whatever period of time I had forgotten.

Once again, panic spread through me. I couldn't think of a single positive reason two high-ranking generals would be in my hospital room.

"Shiloh, I didn't want to overwhelm you," Ezra said, drawing my focus back to him. "But it seems like you're not going to relax until you get some answers. So, I think we should proceed with this interview. Generals Quade and Warner wanted to talk to you before anyone gave you any details about what happened."

My pulse spiked slightly. If the military demanded I be interviewed, something bad had happened. And if these generals, both with four stars proudly displayed on their uniforms, were the ones to do it, whatever happened must have been serious.

Quade's eyes darted over to the monitor. A smirk crossed his face as he watched my heart rate climb.

"Going to be hard to lie to us hooked up to that."

"I'm not going to lie to you," I said defensively. "But I can already tell you that I don't remember anything. Why are you here? Why do you want to talk to me? What happened?"

"Can you give us a few minutes alone, Ezra?" General Warner asked my husband.

Ezra stood up rigidly and saluted. "Yes, sir."

"You'll come back, right?" I blurted out.

Ezra turned around and gave me a reassuring smile. "Of course."

As I watched him leave, Quade let out a derisive noise. "Pretty dependent on a man you don't even remember."

I turned my attention back to the other generals. "Are you jealous?"

The smirk fell from General Quade's face, revealing the ever-present darkness underneath. "I don't remember asking you a question."

He was right. I didn't know what had gotten into me. I muttered an apology, lowered my gaze, and fell silent.