Lady Baby

17

So sorry for the mega late update, guys. I'd be amazed if there are still readers invested in this story.

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It was difficult-very difficult. Max was seated at the living area, hunched over the patient guide and reading about various teaching and learning method. Sharon's IQ test revealed she had retained her reading ability but her writing ability was like that of a ten-year-old. There were a vast number of learning courses he was to put her through, basically like home schooling a child. Normally a hired professional was supposed to do the job but Max was determined to do right by Sharon. Yes, he felt guilty about what happened to her and couldn't stomach a stranger being around her when she's in such a vulnerable mental state.

He had spent several hours on the internet the night before, pouring over medical articles on the type of amnesia Sharon suffered. There was the possibility that if he had rushed her to the hospital as soon as she passed out, maybe her condition wouldn't be as bad. It meant little that the patients had all been accident victims. It was his fault through and through. If he had been with her when she collapsed-

Max discarded the thought and blew out a breath.

When Sharon had called Annie's name a few nights ago, hope and disbelief had made him rush to her. He had asked her if she finally remembers, even dared to hope that the old Sharon was somehow returning. He was wrong. Sharon only talked about how she 'remembered Annie in her head'. Nothing they tried made her explain what she meant. Sharon had been more interested in Annie teaching her how to bake cupcakes and showing off her drawings. He had discussed the incident at Sharon's doctor's appointment the day before. The man had nothing encouraging to say about it; though he mentioned the possibility of lucid intervals occurring. Max both dreaded and desired the occurrence-to have the old Sharon back for a while would be... crazy. The things he had to say, the apologies. God. He blinked hard and struggled to focus on the task at hand.

There were several resource materials scattered across the desk in their bedroom and about three empty coffee mugs. He needed a refill. What time was it? He glanced at his phone screen. 8:15pm. The last time he checked, Sharon had been downstairs watching a fashion channel. He had been relieved to find something else to distract her while he worked. Usually she lingered, asking questions upon questions upon questions.

Max frowned. Something wasn't right.

He stood and inclined his head to the left. The house was too quiet. Only moments ago, the TV had been loud enough for him to hear from their bedroom. What was Sharon up to? Cold fear sliced through him. Maybe she had collapsed again. Jesus, no.

He bolted for the door immediately the thought pierced his mind. No way. There was no way he would be an oblivious jerk for the second time.

He took the stairs two at a time, practically flying downstairs. The living area was silent and the TV screen black.

"Sharon?"

Silence greeted him. His heart sunk to his stomach and cold sweat immediately assailed him. "Jesus... please." He raced to the kitchen. It was empty. "Sharon," he called out again.

She was not at the guest room. He had even been paranoid enough to look over the balcony, the terrifying thought that she may have fallen making him rush over. He nearly melted with relief at the near empty street below. Then where was she? He pushed his fingers through his curly hair, forcing his mind to think.

It was then it hit him. She had to be at the den, it was the only place downstairs he told her not to go to. When he rushed over, his heart beat for a different reason.