Echoes of Yesterday

Ethan woke in a hospital bed, machines beeping in the distance. 

"Ethan?" a soft voice came. 

He turned to his right, and a blurry bright face stared at him. Her eyes were soaked with tears, and her cheeks sunken in. She hesitated as if measuring the weight of the words. "I am your wife."

"What happened?" 

"You were in a car accident. The doctors say that you have lost some memories, but they will come back in time."

She showed him their wedding photos, long walks at the beach, and late-night dinners. All of it felt like watching a movie about a stranger's life. They would talk for hours, but she always had long pauses like she rehearsed it. She stared at him as if she wasn't sure he believed her and she was right. She always sat by his side, only leaving to talk to someone or get some water. Her laugh jiggled in his ears. Her smile warmed his cold heart. As the days passed, he knew why he chose her. 

But an invisible wall stood in between them. She winced every time asked about the accident. At first, he thought that it hurt to talk about the accident. But her ears became red, and her hands trembled whenever he asked about their daily routine, what they did for fun or why he was in that car. 

In the cold darkness of the night, she whispered on the phone. "He is asking too many questions. No, I don't want it to come to that."

This sent chills down Ethan's spine. "What it is she doesn't want to come to?" he said to himself.

The next day, while watching TV, he asked her, "What aren't you telling me?"

Her eyes flicked at him. "I don't know what you are talking about?"

"Why was I in the car that day?"

She pulled her blanket up, but no words dared come out. 

"What happened that day?" he stood. His heart pounded like a jackhammer. 

She gulped. "You were with a woman."

Ethan's eyes widened, ready to fall out at any moment. "Was she…."

She nodded. "Her was Clarie. You had an affair with her."

Ethan stumbled back and caught the sofa. He panted as she continued, "You were leaving me for her."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought with your memories gone, we could start over. I thought I could forgive you, and pretend none of it ever happened."

Her tears sliced his heart. His head throbbed with anger while guilt pressed his chest. As he sat on the sofa, he wondered whether he wanted to know more or not. He questioned how he could ever hurt her. But to answer that question, he first had to know himself.