Chapter 55 #55
Chapter 55
~Dante~
The lunch was perfect. Shailyn laughed at my jokes, her eyes bright and full of love as we sat in the corner booth of her favorite Italian restaurant. I'd made sure to reserve the most private table, away from prying eyes.
"This pasta is amazing," she said, twirling another forkful. "How did you know this was my favorite place?"
"Because I'm your husband," I said smoothly, reaching across the table to take her hand. "I know everything about you, baby."
She smiled, that soft, trusting smile that made my chest tighten. "I'm so lucky to have you."
"I'm the lucky one," I said, meaning it in my own way. "You and our little bean are my entire world."
"Speaking of the baby," she said, her free hand moving to her stomach, "I've been thinking about names."
"Already?"
"Why not?" She grinned. "It's never too early. What do you think about Eliana for a girl?"
"Eliana Belmar," I tested the name. "I like it. And for a boy?"
"I haven't decided yet," she admitted. "Maybe something strong. Traditional."
"Like Dante?" I teased.
She laughed. "Maybe not exactly like Dante. One is enough."
"Fair enough," I said, squeezing her hand. "We have time to decide."
After we finished eating, I paid the bill and helped her into her coat.
"Where to now?" she asked as we stepped outside.
"Actually," I said carefully, "I have a surprise for you."
Her eyes lit up. "Another surprise? You're spoiling me."
"You deserve to be spoiled," I said, guiding her toward the car. "Especially now."
"What kind of surprise?" she pressed as I opened her door.
"You'll see," I said mysteriously. "Trust me."
"I do trust you," she said softly, settling into her seat.
Perfect.
I drove us across town, my mind running through the plan one more time. I had spoken to Dr. Gerald at the restaurant, I told Shailyn that I wanted to urgently attend to a business call.
Dr. Gerald had assured me everything was in place. The medication wouldn't harm the baby, just... ensure Shailyn's memories stayed exactly where they were.
He wanted to tell me the side effects but I asked him if she wouldn't die and if the baby would be fine and he said yes so I cut him off.
Buried.
"Dante?" Shailyn's voice pulled me back. "Where are we going?"
"Heartland Medical Center," I said, watching her reaction carefully.
"A hospital?" Her brow furrowed. "Why? Is something wrong with you?"
"No, no, nothing like that," I assured her quickly. "This is about you, baby. About getting your memories back."
She sat up straighter. "What do you mean?"
"I've been doing research," I lied smoothly. "I found a specialist, Dr. Gerald. He's had incredible success with amnesia patients using a new treatment protocol."
"Really?" Hope flooded her voice. "You think it could work?"
"I think it's worth trying," I said. "Don't you?"
"Yes," she breathed. "God, yes. I want to remember Dante. I want to remember us, our life together."
"I know, baby," I said, reaching over to squeeze her knee. "That's why I set this up. I want you to have those memories back too."
The lie tasted bitter, but necessary.
We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and I helped her out of the car. She was practically vibrating with excitement as we walked through the automatic doors.
"Mr. and Mrs. Belmar," the receptionist greeted us. "Dr. Gerald is expecting you. Fourth floor, room 402."
"Thank you," I said, guiding Shailyn toward the elevators.
"I'm nervous," she admitted as we rode up. "What if it doesn't work?"
"Then we'll try something else," I said, stroking her hair. "But I have a good feeling about this."
Dr. Gerald was waiting for us in his office, a distinguished man in his sixties with silver hair and kind eyes that I knew were just as fabricated as his medical ethics.
"Mrs. Belmar," he said warmly, shaking her hand. "It's wonderful to meet you. Your husband has told me so much about you."
"Dr. Gerald," Shailyn said eagerly. "Dante says you might be able to help me remember?"
"I certainly hope so," he said, gesturing for us to sit. "I've developed a treatment specifically for cases like yours. Traumatic amnesia combined with head injury."
"How does it work?" she asked.
"It's a combination of medication and cognitive therapy," Dr. Gerald explained. "The medication helps stimulate neural pathways, while the therapy helps guide your brain toward accessing those dormant memories."
"Is it safe?" she asked. "For the baby, I mean?"
"Completely safe," he assured her. "I've used this protocol with several pregnant patients with excellent results."
All lies. Beautiful, necessary lies.
"What do I need to do?" Shailyn asked.
"You just need to take a simple injection, which you'll be taking once a week." Dr. Gerald said, standing.
An injection is the perfect solution to this. I can't have her taking the medicine and then someone will find out what kind of medication it is.
“The medication will begin working immediately, though it may take a few weeks to start seeing full results."
"An injection?" Shailyn looked at me nervously.
"I'll be right here," I promised, taking her hand. "The whole time."
"Okay," she said, squeezing my fingers. "Let's do it."
Dr. Gerald prepared the syringe while I held Shailyn's hand, watching as he approached with the clear liquid that would ensure she stayed mine.
"Just a small pinch," he said, inserting the needle into her arm.
Shailyn winced but didn't pull away. I watched the medication disappear into her bloodstream, satisfaction settling deep in my chest.
"All done," Dr. Gerald said, applying a small bandage. "You might feel a bit tired over the next few hours. That's completely normal."
"When will I start remembering?" Shailyn asked eagerly.
"Give it a few weeks, besides it's not once, you'll start remembering bit by bit.” he said. "The medication needs time to work. I'll want to see you again next week for a follow-up and another injection."
"Thank you so much," Shailyn said, standing and shaking his hand again. "This means everything to me."
"My pleasure," Dr. Gerald said, his eyes meeting mine briefly. "Take care of yourself, Mrs. Belmar."
In the car, Shailyn was practically glowing.
"I can't believe this," she said, her hand still clutching mine. "I might actually remember everything. Our wedding, our first home together, all the moments we've shared."
"Maybe," I said carefully. "But remember what the doctor said. It takes time."
"I know, but just the possibility..." She turned to me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Dante, you did this for me. You found this doctor, set up the appointment, and gave me hope."
"I'd do anything for you," I said, and that part was true. "Anything to make you happy."
"I love you so much," she whispered, leaning over to kiss me.
"I love you too, baby," I murmured against her lips. "More than you'll ever know."
We drove home in comfortable silence, her hand resting on mine the entire way. She fell asleep against the window, the medication already making her drowsy.
Perfect. Everything was going exactly according to plan.
Back at the manor, I helped her upstairs to our room.
"Just rest, baby," I said, tucking her into bed. "The medication is making you tired."
"Stay with me?" she asked sleepily.
"Always," I promised, lying down beside her.
She was asleep within minutes, her breathing deep and even. I watched her for a while, my hand resting protectively on her stomach where our baby grew.
My phone buzzed.
I pulled it out carefully, making sure not to disturb Shailyn.
An unknown number. Again.
Irritation flared as I opened the message.
The screen filled with a photo that made my blood run cold.
It was my mother. In what looked like a room, wrapped in the arms of a man whose face was deliberately blurred.
But the pose was unmistakable. Intimate. Sexual.
Below the photo, a single line of text:
"Does the son know his mother has a boyfriend?"
What the actual fuck?
My mum is cheating on my dad?