After pretending to have amnesia, my
son called me Auntie
After the car accident, I decided to play a little
prank on my husband and son. I pretended to
have amnesia.
“Who are you?” I asked, feigning confusion.
A flicker of mischief crossed my son, Alex’s,
face. He led the woman standing outside the
hospital room to my bedside.
“Mom, these are just some people from church,
here to see how you’re doing,” he said, the little
stinker.
My husband, Mark, stood silently by, not
correcting him. Not a peep.
“We’re so sorry to hear about your accident,
ma’am,” the woman, Sarah, said, her voice soft
and gentle. I could tell she felt a little awkward.
Alex stood protectively in front of her, like a
little knight guarding his princess. If I really had lost my memory, I might actually believe they
were a happy little family.
Alex tugged on Mark’s hand and whispered,
“Dad, now that Mom’s lost her memory, can you and Sarah finally get married?”
He whispered, but loud enough for me to hear. He was punishing me for snapping at him yesterday, embarrassing him in front of our housekeeper. This was his payback. Alex had a flair for the dramatic, and I was usually game. But not this time.
I decided to commit to the bit. No husband. No
son.
“I’m sorry… who are you?” I repeated, a little
more convincingly this time.
A flash of panic crossed Alex’s face. “You really
don’t remember me? You can’t forget me! I’m
your favorite… kid.”
Mark frowned, his eyes cold. “Nicole, stop it.
The doctor said it’s just a mild concussion.
You’re not getting out of the divorce this
easily.”
“Yeah, Mom! You love us too much to forget
us!” Alex chimed in, his little face mirroring his
father’s stern expression.
My head throbbed. Before I could reply, a nurse
<
knocked. “The patient needs rest. Visitors,
please step outside.”
Mark and Alex, along with Sarah, filed out
without a word.
The nurse turned to me. “Your husband just
went to get you some soup.”
“My husband?” I was completely lost. Hadn’t she just kicked him out?
The nurse winked. “Yeah. I was in the maternity ward four years ago. I remember you guys. You were such a gorgeous couple! Hard to forget.” I had given birth at this hospital, but Mark hadn’t been there for a single appointment. “Your husband was so sweet,” the nurse continued. “He didn’t even look at his phone the whole time. Just paced and waited. Tall,
handsome, and attentive… he made us all
believe in love again! Who were those other
two, by the way? Cute, but they looked like they
were about to collect a debt.”
I chuckled. Daniel, my younger brother, had
been with me for every single one of those
fourteen prenatal appointments. He was only
<
eighteen at the time.
I didn’t bother explaining my relationship with
Mark and Alex. It wouldn’t matter soon.
Daniel arrived shortly after, slightly out of
breath, carrying a container of soup. I was
starving.
He quickly set it up on the table, arranging the
spoon, napkin, and water cup meticulously.
“Warm water, and your favorite
—
egg drop
soup. Eat up. I’ll peel you an orange.”
I accepted his care without a second thought.
Daniel had been my devoted caretaker ever
since he came to live with us when I was fifteen.
After a few spoonfuls, the gnawing in my
stomach subsided. I looked up to see Daniel’s eyes glistening.
“You have no idea how scared I was when I heard about the accident,” his voice trembled. My own throat tightened. Who wouldn’t be scared after a car accident? I was just lucky it wasn’t worse. I’d only wanted to play a little
joke, to see if Mark and Alex would actually
<
worry. But apparently, they were too
preoccupied to notice.
I was discharged a few days later. I stuck to my
story, insisting I remembered everything and
everyone except for Mark and Alex. The doctor
told Mark it was temporary amnesia brought on
by the concussion, and that my memory would
return.
I went back to the house I shared with Mark.
Piano music drifted from the living room. Sarah
and Alex were playing a duet.
When they finished, Sarah gave Alex a thumbs-
- up. “You’re a natural, Alex!”
He blushed. “You’re a great teacher!”
A picture of domestic bliss. I walked upstairs,
my expression unchanged. Alex’s smile
vanished when he saw me.
Sarah stood up. “Mrs. Peterson, how are you
feeling?”
I paused on the stairs. “Much better, thank you.
Please, continue.”
I didn’t dislike Sarah. I envied her. She wasn’t
the “other woman.” She was Mark’s
<
unforgotten first love, the one who got away.
We were married, but a nagging voice in my
head whispered, the unloved one is the real
other woman.
I had witnessed Mark’s infatuation with Sarah
when he was eighteen, the most intense love
he’d ever shown. Last month, Sarah’s family
business went bankrupt, forcing her to return
from Europe. She used all her savings to cover
her family’s debts, but with a music degree,
finding a well–paying job was tough. Mark
offered her a position as Alex’s piano teacher, a
generous $10,000 a month.
“Sarah’s the best! I love her!” Alex announced
loudly in the living room.
“Alex, I’m not… please don’t call me that,”
Sarah said, embarrassed.
