Okay, so many people asked for a third part to this sooooooo here it is sorry for taking so long. It's crazy i had written the first part as a standalone and i didn't think i would ever continue it. Also the first bit is a flashback and am not really sure how patients who have memory loss are so am really sorry if that part is not realistic. Anywayyyy....i hope you like this part!
PS: This is my first time writing changing POV'S so am sorry if this is shitty...
[ the italics part is a flashback, just so you don't get confused]
She wakes up to the heavy sound of pans crashing to the floor downstairs, and a cold draft of air brushing over her bare shoulder. Chris had told her that he liked to sleep with the ceiling fan on, but the A/C as well? Was the man raised by Father Christmas himself?
Her hands press around Chris's white comforter in search for a shirt or maybe a robe to cover her barely clothed body. She'd find some way to keep more of the chilled air to hit any more of her skin. She eventually finds the silk button-up she planned on going to sleep in, down on the floor near Chris's side of the bed; in the process of picking the shirt up, she finds herself feeling somewhat like a 5-year-old with her very first crush when she thinks about her having her own side of the bed. Of his bed.
When her shirt is somewhat buttoned up, she slips on Chris's house shoes left by his ensuite bathroom and begins to make her way down the steps. There's a bit of smoke clouding the area around the kitchen, but the smell coming from the large space was anything but unpleasant. She watched his bare back plate the food on a cute breakfast tray she remembers him buying the other day. He jumps, turning around to face her when he hears his shoes she was wearing slide against the marble tile.
"What are y'- Babe, no."
She laughs at his peeved expression moving around the counter to press a chaste kiss to his lips. "Chris, it's 6 in the morning. What are you doing up?"
"I was makin' you food. Breakfast on your first night over, you've gone and ruined that now, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I was the one that dropped whatever woke me up."
He can't help but crack a sheepish smile. "The oil splashed all over the damn handle– impossible to get a grip."
"Do you need help carrying it to the table?" She moves to pick up a slice of a strawberry before Chris moves to swat her hands away.
"Breakfast in bed, minus the sausages I dropped. Get y'cute ass upstairs and pretend to sleep."
She's now the one to swat as his hands with a smile when he tries to grab squeeze of her bum. "One night of sex and you've already had a confidence boost?"
"Can't help it." he calls as she begins to scurry up his stairs.
"Give me 3 minutes to brush my teeth!"
He'd surprised her with a desk that morning, the main reason he had woken up at 4 in the morning and slept the rest of the day. She appreciated his gesture nonetheless, thankful for him taking the time to build the pesky (and very complicated) piece of furniture.
Every morning since he'd placed the desk on the left wall of his room (right under the window so that she could have the best amount of light), she'd be sat in the comfortable chair he'd provided just a few days later, doing last minute paperwork or typing away for an essay due the following night –her favorite morning talk show playing in the background.
He'd always toss a small pillow at the back of her head when he was finally awake, then spend 10 full minutes trying to convince her to get back in the bed for one last cuddle before she left for work.
When he looks over at the desk now, it's empty. Her plush fleece sweater was no longer hung over the back of her chair, her laptop wasn't sitting atop of the surface, displaying a PDF of a book she's never been able to go out and buy a physical copy of. The desk looked dead, in fact– the light poking through the blinds brought anything but nice thoughts. She left her favorite pencil holders and he wonders if she'd be able to write a "good arse report" without her lucky pen that was now sitting in an unused cabinet with the rest of her things she had.
She'd never really moved in at the time, but her desk was something. Just a little bit more than simply having a toothbrush in a holder next to his and less than her packing all of her clothes into his closet that had more than enough space.
His hands reach for his remote sitting on the nightstand and he flicks on his mounted television.
1 5 6 7, the extended program pops onto the screen and his lips twitch up into a smile. He swore to Y/N that the cable company gave him the station for free, knowing that she didn't want Chris spending unnecessary money on her; but was an extra $20 every month really a big deal if his girl got to watch her favorite show from back home?
A few minutes into watching the program with drowsy eyes, he unplugs his phone from its charger, heart plummeting when he sees the date.
His thumbs work in autopilot, opening up his contact and clicking on the hospital's name. That darned hospital where she had been for the past month since her accident. They told him she was physically fine just a few minor hits to the lungs, but it was manageable.
"What are you doing up?"
He jumps out of his skin, phone dropping onto his stomach and sliding down onto the mattress at the sound of his sister's voice.
"..watching... The Night Manager? Isn't this only on in the UK?"
"M'not. S'just background noise." He tosses the remote to his side, which was really Y/N's side of the bed. Notwithstanding feeling like an absolute lunatic, he's been sleeping on what was originally Y/N's side; he mentally wasn't able to let anyone else but her or himself sleep there. He lifts himself up and quickly pulls his briefs up his legs. "Gonna go wash up, I'll walk y'out when m'through."
[Y/n's POV]
You couldn't remember anything.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. You remembered random things from your childhood and you knew your parents and friends from when you were a kid.
But you didn't know Chris.
You couldn't remember anything from the last two years, and it killed him.
The first time that Chris had come to visit you in the hospital after the accident, the doctor had warned him that you may not know who he was. As soon as he walked into your room and you looked at him like a stranger, it took everything in his power to not start crying right there and then. But Chris stayed strong for you because he knew you were probably scared and confused.
It was odd to you, having this man in your hospital room every single day. You couldn't figure out why a stranger would want to spend so much time with you, even if he was incredibly cute and seemed very nice. Something in his eyes when he looked at you always threw you off. As if he were seeing you in a way that you didn't understand. There was a pain there; a sadness.
The doctors had told Chris that what you were experiencing was likely short term memory loss, and that you would remember things in time. The best thing for him to do was not overwhelm you with information, although Chris's first instinct was to try and tell you absolutely everything. He couldn't imagine having you here, but not having a clue who he was and what you meant to him.
You had to stay in the hospital for a week or two, and Chris started to gradually introduce you to thoughts and ideas pertaining to your relationship with him; the first being that you were in a relationship to begin with. He came by one afternoon with a bouquet of flowers and sat them down with the other three or four bouquets he had brought in days previous. Daisies. Always Daisies. You liked Daisies.
Or, at least you thought you did.
"Hi Chris." You said with a smile as he came into the room. He had been there enough times that you were at least comfortable with him now.
"Hi pet."
He always called you pet or love. It was a little weird, but at the same time, you kinda liked it.
"More flowers?"
Chris smiled at you and nodded, setting them down next to the others.
"I know they're your favorite."
"Are they?" You asked, raising your eyebrows a bit.
You saw that thing flicker behind his eyes again and he nodded. "Well...there's also a bit of a...sentimental reasoning. I guess."
You frowned. You didn't remember anything sentimental about daisies. Chris let out a bit of a sigh and came to sit next to your bed.
"Do you know why I always call you 'pet'?" He asked.
You shook your head. "I guess I just kind of figured that you were just used to it and, therefore, called everybody that?"
Chris chuckled a little. "Well, you're not wrong. I guess I just figured that calling you what I normally would is still something that would freak you out, so I'm settling for the closest I can get."
"What...what would you normally call me?"
Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he stared at you. Behind his eyes were a million thoughts about whether or not this was the right time to proceed with this kind of information, but he couldn't live another day without you at least having some knowledge of what the two of you had.
"Well, normally I would call you 'my love', or 'baby', or 'sweetheart'...or 'daisy'."
Something twinged in your stomach when he said that. You couldn't quite put a finger on why or what you were feeling, but it was definitely something.
"You call me 'daisy'?" You asked.
Chris nodded.
"And that's why you always bring me daisies?"
He nodded again.
"Chris?" You asked, quietly after a short pause.
"Yeah?"
"Who are you?"
The two of you sat there in silence while Chris continued to stare at you. You could see the pain in his eyes and it made your stomach swirl because you knew that his answer was going to be a game changer.
"You're sure you want to know this now? He asked. "I don't want you to get overwhelmed."
You nodded. "Yes. Please. Not knowing is harder."
Chris let out a shuddering breath. "I'm your boyfriend. Well...fiance, technically. We've been together for two years."
Your heart was pounding. Fiance? You were somebody's fiancee and you didn't even remember who he was. The man sitting in front of you was very nice but, to you, he wasn't your fiance. You didn't love him. You didn't even know him.
"Chris - "
"I know, it's a lot. I'm sorry."
"Chris, do I have a ring?"
Chris looked up at you and nodded, furiously.
"You do. They took it off after the accident, but it's just in with the rest of your stuff. Do you want to see it?"
You nodded. You were terrified, but you thought that maybe seeing the ring would help bring back something - anything - for you to remember.
Chris stood up quickly and ran to get the ring from your pile of other belongings. He came back and held it out in front of you. You were kind of hoping for some sort of memory flash and having everything come screaming back to you, but nothing happened. It was a lovely ring, but you had no memory of it.
"Anything?" Chris asked, his voice slightly hopeful.
You shook your head, sadly. "Nothing. I'm sorry."
You could seem him deflate a little bit, but he put on a brave face for you. "That's okay. One step at a time, yeah?"
"I wish I could remember." You said, feeling extremely emotional for the first time since you woke up. "I feel like I have this whole life that I'm missing; a whole life with you, and I don't even know you! And I can see how badly you want me to remember who you are, so I know that we had something special. And I just wish that I could -"
You had to stop talking as you felt the tears start to creep into your eyes. You turned your head away so Chris couldn't see you and tried to blink them away.
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Chris said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "It's a lot, I know. But don't worry about it right now, okay? Just focus on you and getting yourself better, and then we'll deal with the rest as it comes, alright? I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
You turned back to him and wiped the stray tears off your cheeks.
"Can you stay tonight?"
Chris nodded. "Of course I can."
"And can you just talk to me? Tell me stories about us and all of the stuff we've done? Even if I can't remember it, I feel like it'll be a great story."
Chris smiled and you could tell that he was trying to hold back tears as well.
"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. What do you want to know?"
"Just start at the beginning." You said. "I want to know everything."
You leaned back in your bed and shut your eyes as Chris started to tell you everything. From your first meeting, to your first date, to your first kiss, all the way up to when he asked you to marry him. You didn't get a wink of sleep that night, but you didn't care.
The next day, you finally got tired enough to take a nap in the afternoon. And, for the first time since the accident, you started to dream.
You were in a car, driving in the pouring rain. On your left hand was a ring. You were having trouble seeing out the front windshield because of the rain. Your brain kept directing your attention to the shiny ring on your finger and you smiled while you drove. You dialed your hands-free car phone and the number went straight to voicemail.
"Hey Chris, it's me. I'm on my way home, I should be there in a few minutes. I'm sorry we fought . I hope we can talk it out. Tonight seems like a good night to do that. And maybe some other things. Anyway, I love you and I'll see you soon."
Just as you hung up the call, you saw two bright headlights in front of your car. You slammed on the brakes, and everything went dark.
You sat up in your hospital bed, breathing heavily, looking around at your surroundings, heart pounding.
You weren't having a dream; you were experiencing a memory. And now you were experiencing a lot more. You remembered everything. You remembered Chris.
You looked around, tears streaming down your face, hoping that your boy would be somewhere in the room, but he wasn't.
You were still crying when Chris walked through your hospital door about a half hour later. He had another bouquet of daisies in his hand that he promptly discarded as soon as he saw your face.
"Baby, what's wrong? What happened?" He asked, forgetting about not using the pet name.
He rushed over to your bedside and seemed momentarily unsure of how to comfort you. But you instantly reached your arms out for him and pulled him to you. It took him a second, but he relaxed into your hold and started slowly rubbing your back.
"Shhhh. Shh, it's okay. I'm here. What's wrong?"
"Chris." You sobbed. "I remember. I remember it all. The accident and everything that happened."
"What?" Chris said into you ear.
You pulled away from him, but kept a firm grip on his hand. "You proposed to me the week before. We were laying in bed and you pulled the ring out from under the mattress and asked me to marry you. You said you had planned to wait and do it that night so things would be a bit more fancy, but you couldn't wait any longer. And I was angry and I took off driving when the accident happened, because I had sent the wrong email with your movie scenes. Chris, I remember! I remember all of it!"
You were still crying, but now they had turned to happy tears. You reached up and lovingly ran your hand down his cheek.
"I remember you, my love."
Chris's eyes were fixed on you and they filled with tears almost instantly as you spoke.
"You do?"
You nodded. "Yeah mostly, maybe need to work on some "
Chris clasped your cheeks in both his hands and leaned down to give you a long, deep kiss.
"Oh God, I love you. Don't worry you'll remember everything" He breathed as he pulled away. "I love you so much, you don't even know."
"I love you too, Chris."
And, for the first time since your accident, you knew that you meant it.