It's been one year and six months since the accident and it seemed as if I will not be regaining my memories. The only thing that is constant in my life is Mark and he has been there since I've woken up in the hospital. But not even then, do I remember who he is. I thought familiarizing yourself with things that you had once known would help, that's what Dr. Scottish told us, but nothing since then. No flashbacks, no bodily reflexes. It is almost as if this is overall a new beginning for me. "Hey, what are you thinking about?" Mark said while hugging me from behind. I'm still unable to get a reaction from my body towards him. According to him and our marriage certificate, we have been married for almost two years. There are no pictures to show, no friends from my past, and no family either. This doesn't make sense. "Oh, nothing" I turned around and place my hands around his neck. "Was just taking in the view" "I can never get enough of this lake," I said to him. "Kay, if there is something bothering you" "You can talk about it, I'll try my best to help you" Mark pleaded. "I'm fine honey, I promise" I reassured him.
"Karla Johnson married to Mark Johnson. Birthday, 26th of April 1996, went to St. Florence High and studied journalism at the University of Kingston." That's all that came upon the research I did, that much is true, but my past seems to have been erased since the accident. And Mark won't allow me to go anywhere alone to find out anything. For the first couple of months, I thought he was just being protective but lately, I've been getting a creepy feeling, like he isn't who he says he is. "Well, dinner is almost ready" he kissed my forehead. "Want to go freshen up until then?" He asked "Sure, what are we having tonight?" I asked while making my way upstairs. I made my way to the bathroom and washed my hands and face, looking in the mirror I have no idea who it is looking back at me. "Who are you?" "And why are you not remembering?" I thought to myself. "Honey, dinners ready" Mark shouted from downstairs. He's a web designer, so he can pretty much work from anywhere and that includes here at the house, with me all day, every day. "I'm coming" I shouted back. Looking back at my reflection in the mirror I knew I had to find a way to remember who I am.
Walking into the kitchen, I must admit, he is one hell of a chef. Dinner looked good and with me living with him for so long, I know it'll taste just as good. "Need help?" I asked as I round the table. "I'm just about done, you can just set the table for me" Mark answered with his back turned. I took out the silverware and placed them on the table. Seeing it's just the two of us, it wasn't long before I was done, and by that time he also placed the food in the middle. "Mhmm, it smells good honey, what's the occasion?" I asked him as we both sat. "Do I need an occasion to cook something delicious for my wife?" Mark asked in a tone that I wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or rhetorical, but it definitely seemed like I ticked him off. "No" I replied, "I never meant it like that Mark" I continued. I could feel the anger radiating off of him despite the fact that we were sitting opposite each other. "It's fine Kay" "I just wanted to do something special, you know how much I love you and this is one way I wanted to show you today" he replied. I could tell he was begging me to look up at him and for some reason, I'm not too keen to do so. In truth and in fact, I'm beginning to be fearful of him these few days. Forcing myself to meet his gaze, I smiled. "It's okay and I appreciate the effort" "So let's dig in so I can complement the chef" I reassured him.
And compliment the chef I did. As much as how we are used to our dishes here on the island, Mark always seemed to have a way of making it seem like it's your first time. I'm surprised he's not a chef instead of a web designer. We had mashed potato, macaroni pasta and baked chicken, and a glass of red wine. "There are not enough words to tell you how good dinner was," I told him while we sat at the table. "I'm surprised you're not a chef instead of a web designer Mark" I continued. He smiled. "Well, I grew up in a household where cooking was something I had to learn" "I've always had a thing for it, call it a second calling if you must" he replied. We cleared the table, put away the leftovers in the fridge and the dishes in the dishwasher. "You can go and get ready for bed, I'll finish up here," Mark said to me while walking in the kitchen. "Are you sure?" "I don't mind helping," I told him after turning around. He placed his hands on the sink, trapping me in the middle. "I'm positive honey" "Just knowing you enjoyed dinner is good enough for me" he replied while kissing my forehead. I know he's trying to be romantic, but I'm just unable to respond the way he wants me to. "Well okay then," I said to him. "Just don't stay up too late" I kissed him on the cheek. I could tell he was expecting more, but nonetheless, he accepted what I gave. I headed upstairs and into the bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth and changed into my pajamas and went to bed. Drifting off to sleep, the last thing I heard was a voice. I was not sure if it was a memory or a creation of my imagination but it was as clear as day. "I will have you, Kay," the voice said. "Even if it's the last thing I do", why does that voice seem so familiar and what did it mean?
