Pretending To Have Amnesia, My Son Calls Me Ma’am
After my car accident, I decided to feign amnesia to mess with my
husband and son.
“Who are you?” I asked.
A glint of amusement flashed in my son’s eyes as he brought a woman from outside the hospital room and said, “Ma’am, my parents and I are just
here to visit.”
My husband stood silent beside him, implicitly approving of his son’s little
game.
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“Ma’am, my parents and I are just here to visit,” my son’s soft, innocent voice echoed in the hospital room.
With a bandage wrapped around my forehead, I looked down at my
five–year–old son, Evan Blake, holding onto two hands, a mischievous grin on,
his face.
My husband, Lucas Blake, standing beside me in his perfectly tailored suit,
looked at me with an intense, searching gaze, but didn’t correct our son’s
choice of words.
The woman Evan held onto wore a long, flowing white dress. She looked elegant and gentle but turned slightly flustered when I stared at her, tucking her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. When Evan noticed my attention on Annie Wynn, he quickly stepped forward, positioning himself protectively between me and Annie, his “mother figure.” If I were truly suffering from amnesia, I might actually believe I was watching a perfectly happy family of
three.
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Evan tugged on Lucas’s hand, whispering, “Dad, now that Mom’s lost her memory, can you finally get divorced?” Though he spoke in a whisper, he
made sure I could hear him clearly.
I knew his little trick–he was punishing me because yesterday I’d scolded
him, embarrassing him in front of the housekeeper. He’d been angry, so this
was his payback. This was how Evan enjoyed himself–making me the target of his pranks.
But I had no intention of playing his game any longer. Since I’d claimed memory loss, I might as well keep going. I’d pretend there was no son, not
husband.
“Excuse me… who are you?”
Evan looked at me, shocked and slightly flustered. “You really don’t
remember me? You can’t forget me–I’m the kid you love most…”
Lucas furrowed his brows, his cold gaze growing even frostier, his voice
laced with annoyance.
“Nina Shaw, stop acting. The doctor said it’s just a minor concussion, not serious. Don’t think you can pretend to have amnesia to get out of a divorce.”
Evan chimed in, his little face scrunched up with displeasure, echoing
Lucas’s impatience.
“Yeah, stop pretending! You love us too much to ever forget us!”
I was starting to feel a headache forming. Before I could reply, a nurse
knocked on the door.
23:07 Fri, Oct 18.
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“The patient needs rest,” she announced firmly. “Please, all non–family members, step outside.”
Without a word, Lucas and Evan turned and left with Annie trailing after
them.
The young nurse entered, glancing back at them and said, “Your husband was here earlier–he just stepped out to grab some soup for you.”
“My… husband?”
My mind stalled a bit. Wasn’t my husband just escorted out by you?
The nurse blinked in surprise. “Yes, he’s very handsome, I remember him
from four years ago when I worked in obstetrics. He never left your side then; he always waited outside so attentively during your prenatal checkups.”
She continued, “We all thought he was one of the rare ones–tall, kind,
attentive, and not once on his phone. We actually started to believe in love
again, thanks to him.”
She paused, then laughed a little. “By the way, who are those two? They’re good–looking, but they looked like they were here to collect a debt or something.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. During all fourteen of my prenatal checkups, Lucas hadn’t come once. The man who had always been by my side was my younger half–brother, Chris Shaw, who was only eighteen at the time. I didn’t bother explaining my relationship with Lucas and Evan–soon enough, it wouldn’t matter.
Moments later, Chris came in with a food container slightly out of breath.
23:07 Fri, Oct 18.
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Moments later, Chris came in with a food container, slightly out of breath. My stomach growled at the sight; I hadn’t eaten all day, and the hunger pangs had turned to pain. Chris carefully opened the container, setting out the soup, napkins, water, and spoon with meticulous care. “It’s warm water, and your favorite congee with pork and egg. Eat up–I’ll peel the egg for you.”
Ever since I first met Chris at fifteen, he’d been a steady, dependable presence. With a few bites, my stomach finally settled. When I looked up, I noticed his eyes were red, his lips trembling as he spoke with a hint of a
quiver.
“When I heard you’d been in a car accident… I was scared to death.”
I felt a pang of warmth, a bittersweetness welling up. Who wouldn’t be terrified of a car crash? I’d been lucky, at least, not to be badly hurt. I’d thought I’d give Lucas and Evan a little scare, to make them laugh by pretending to lose my memory. But a person without a heart… well, how could they feel worry?
