More than I realized.
One of his friends helped me get him upstairs.
Daniel was conscious enough to mumble apologies.
Not enough to explain.
I sat beside him in our hotel room until his breathing became steady.
Then I spent the rest of my wedding night staring at the ceiling.
Three years earlier, I had awakened in another room with no idea how I
got there.
Hospital lights.
A cast on my left leg.
Bandage across my forehead.
Pain whenever I tried to move.
A doctor named Dr. Patel stood beside my bed.
“You were in a serious collision.”
I remembered leaving work.
Rain.
A traffic light.
Then nothing.
The doctor explained that memory loss surrounding trauma was not
unusual.
Some details might return.
Some might not.
My car had gone through a barrier on a mountain access road outside
Denver.
Another driver had called emergency services after seeing the damaged
