Into the Storm

“Elizabeth.”


The one word woke me instantly. Brian was standing in front of me, holding a tray and looking displeased. “You have been crying.”

“I, ah, I get a lot of headaches. Someone … someone said it could be my mind trying to remember things,” I whispered, feeling nervous.

“Stop trying then. You’re home. That’s all that matters.”

I was stunned at his attitude. He didn’t want me to remember?

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I brought you dinner, but you didn’t drink your tea.”

I looked at the salad with no appetite and shook my head. “It was rather bitter. I think I would like it better with sugar.”

He snorted. “You don’t take sugar. In anything. I can see you’ve gained some weight. Obviously from laying around doing nothing. We’ll get you back on your regular diet right away. Maybe even cut back a little so you can lose those extra pounds.”

“My regular diet?” I asked, my voice quivering, feeling a bit hurt at his comment, and confused about that being the detail he was concentrating on. Not my memory, my meagre weight gain.

“Yes. You follow a very regimented diet. You also work with a trainer to maintain your weight.”

I waited but he didn’t add anything. I noticed he had a folder in his hand. “What is that?”

“I had Randy prepare this. It’s a list of your charitable work. Some information on people we socialize with. Your schedule. Upcoming events. My expectations.”

My hand froze in midair while reaching for the folder. “Your … expectations?”

He regarded me for a minute.

“I hold a very important position within this community, Elizabeth. I expect you to remember that at all times and act accordingly. Your behavior reflects directly on me.”

I started to tremble. Something about this conversation felt very familiar, as if I had heard it many times.

“I realize you will not be able to simply pick up where you left off before you were … taken. But I won’t allow you to slack off either. As my wife, you have responsibilities.”

Slack off?

Before I could react, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a narrow gold ring. “I noticed your ring was gone. I assume it was taken from you.”

I looked down at my hand. I had no idea.

Without warning, he grabbed my hand and forced the ring down on my finger. I gasped at the uncomfortable sensation. “I think it’s too small,” I whispered.

“Then I don’t have to worry about it coming off again,” he said curtly, ignoring any discomfort I might be feeling.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat.

“Do I work outside the house?” I asked quietly, sensing not to push him on the ring.

“No. Twice a week you volunteer your time at the local library. Books are a great love of yours so I allow you to donate your time there. You run a reading program. You also donate some time at the children’s hospital and are active with other charitable works. It’s all in the folder.”

He leaned forward, holding out the folder. I reached out again to take it from him, my hand trembling, the light glinting off the unfamiliar ring.

“Are you frightened of me, Elizabeth?” His voice was low, but there was an undercurrent to it. “Is that why you’re trembling?”

I looked at him. “I’m nervous because I don’t know you, because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I answered.

His face softened and, for a minute, he looked like the man I had seen on TV.

“I understand. Randy told me downstairs I needed to be more helpful to you. I’m rather out of my element here. You’ve always been the more … open of the two of us. I know this is all overwhelming to you, but it’s not that easy for me either. I am not sure how to connect with you.”

Abruptly, he stood up, taking the tray with him. “If you are not hungry, I will return this to the kitchen. If you need me, my room is across the hall.”

I drew back in surprise. ”We don’t … ah … share a room?”

He shook his head. “No. You are a very light sleeper and informed me not long after we were married that I was keeping you up and you preferred to sleep alone. My room is across the hall.”

And he left.

I stared after him, feeling sense of relief at his departure. But I was confused; Joshua never said anything about me being a light sleeper. It seemed to me that I slept quite deeply when I was with him. I liked sleeping in his arms. He always made me feel safe.

Melanie Moreland's books