Chapter 17 Home
'ABOUT AN HOUR LATER— MAGGIE’S POV'
Maggie pushed herself upright on the hospital bed, the sheets sliding down to her waist as her fingers clenched tightly into the fabric. Her breathing slowed, then hitched again.
“Why does it feel like something is wrong with my husband?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, lips trembling as she stared straight ahead.
She lifted her hands, turning them over slowly, studying them as if they might offer answers.
“Is this how typical relationships are?” she whispered, shaking her head faintly.
Her brows knitted together. Her mouth twisted in confusion.
“He’s always hanging up on me whenever I call him,” she muttered again, her voice cracking slightly. “Is this normal?”
She reached over to the bedside table, picked up her phone, and unlocked it with hesitant fingers. Her thumbs hovered over the screen for a moment before she began typing.
“What does it mean when my partner keeps hanging up on me while we’re talking on the phone?” she read aloud quietly as she hit search.
Her eyes scanned the screen as Google AI’s response appeared. Her lips moved slowly as she read.
“When your partner repeatedly hangs up, it often signals poor communication… avoidance… disrespect… or emotional immaturity… showing they don’t value your feelings.”
Her throat tightened.
“But what could I have done,” she whispered, “to make him feel like this toward me?”
She lowered the phone onto her lap, her fingers gripping its edges tightly.
“It feels like he’s avoiding me,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Maybe it’s because of what I did in the past… the part I can’t remember.”
Her eyes grew glassy.
“Maybe I hurt him,” she added, her voice breaking. “Maybe I ruined everything.”
She inhaled deeply, straightened her shoulders, and nodded to herself.
“But whatever it is,” she said firmly, “I’ll do better. I’ll make him trust me again.”
A gentle knock echoed against the door.
Maggie looked up quickly.
“Yes?” she said.
The door opened slowly, and a nurse stepped inside, her expression warm and professional.
“How are we feeling today, Mrs. Lock?” the nurse asked with a smile. “I see you’ve changed out of your patient gown.”
Maggie stood up, smoothing down her clothes.
“Yes, I have,” she replied, smiling genuinely. “And I feel very wonderful. Thanks to you.”
“You’re welcome,” the nurse said, her smile unwavering.
Maggie clasped her hands together, excitement flickering across her face.
“I can’t wait to leave here,” she said. “I want to go home.”
She paused.
Her smile faded slightly.
“Home,” she repeated slowly, tasting the word. Her brows furrowed. “That word sounds… strange.”
The nurse tilted her head gently.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
“Yes— yes, I’m fine,” Maggie said quickly, waving a hand. “It’s just… this room is the only place I know as home.”
She gestured around the room.
The nurse’s smile softened, then faltered slightly.
“I understand,” she said gently. “Hopefully your memories come back. And even if they don’t… you still have plenty of time to build new ones.”
Maggie’s eyes lit up.
“Thank you,” she said warmly. “You’ve been so kind to me since I woke up.”
“You’re welcome,” the nurse replied. “I’m really going to miss you.”
Maggie smirked.
“I’m not going to miss you,” she teased.
The nurse laughed.
“Oh, that hurts,” she joked.
Maggie laughed too, her shoulders shaking.
“Seems you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” the nurse said.
“Apparently not,” Maggie replied, laughing again.
Then Maggie’s laughter faded into a soft smile.
“I’m going to miss you,” she admitted.
“I know,” the nurse said gently.
She took a small step forward.
“I came to wish you goodbye,” she continued, “and to let you know your husband called. He’s arranged for an Uber to take you home. Have you packed your things?”
“Yes,” Maggie nodded, pointing toward the neatly packed bags near the door.
The nurse nodded.
“Alright,” she said, turning toward the door.
“Wait,” Maggie called.
The nurse turned back.
“I don’t even know your name,” Maggie said.
The nurse smiled.
“I’m Becky. Beck for short.”
Maggie nodded.
“I’m Maggie.”
They exchanged smiles.
The nurse nodded again and left the room.
The door closed softly behind her.
Maggie returned to the bed and sat down slowly.
Her phone buzzed.
She looked at the screen.
“Andrew,” she whispered.
She answered quickly.
“Hello?” Maggie said.
Andrew’s voice came through, calm, distant.
“Have you been discharged?”
“Yes,” Maggie replied. “I’m ready to leave.”
“Good,” Andrew said. “The Uber should be there shortly.”
“Andrew,” Maggie said softly.
“Yes?”
“Did I do anything to hurt you in the past? I feel you're distant from me,” she asked.
A pause.
“No,” he replied. “If you did I'd have told you.”
“Oh,” Maggie said quietly. “Right.”
Another pause.
“I missed you,” Maggie added.
“That’s good,” Andrew replied flatly.
Maggie’s lips parted.
“I— I don’t remember everything,” she said carefully. “But I want us to be okay.”
“We are okay,” Andrew said.
“Are you sure?” Maggie asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
She swallowed.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Andrew said.
“Andrew—”
The call ended.
Maggie stared at the screen.
Her grip tightened around the phone.
“Why does that hurt?” she whispered to herself.
Her phone buzzed again.
A message.
She opened it.
Your Uber is arriving now.
She exhaled slowly, stood up, and grabbed her bags.
She paused by the door.
“Home,” she whispered again, uncertainty filling her eyes.
Then she stepped out.