Amnesia - Virgin Again

I walked into my apartment for the first time in nearly four months. My husband dutifully escorting and helping me walk, along with my crutches. My left leg was still broken from the accident and the doctors said I would still need them for another week or two. Most of the rest of my injuries had fully healed, only a handful of scratches and bruises remaining, aside from my leg, indicating the horrific car wreck I was lucky to walk away from.

I looked around the living room seeking out the objects and signs of being home at last. Sadly no such feelings stirred in my mind of remembering this as my home.

It was the one other injury caused by the accident that hadn't healed, but wasn't visible. My memories, they had all been lost to the miasma of my mind, assuming they were still there at all, while I laid in a 3 week long coma. When I awoke in a dazed stupor the doctor and nurse tending to me began asking me all sorts of questions once they ascertained that I was indeed conscious once more.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Can you tell me your first name?"

"What year is it?"

"What's the last thing that you remember?"

The last question left me most shaken. As I tried to remember, I realized that I couldn't remember anything. Sure I knew what things were, objects, words, etc. But my past, my identity, were missing from my mind. The last thing I remembered was waking up just moments ago. When I told the doctor and nurse, a man standing off by the window made a sobbing sound. I hadn't noticed him before in all my disoriented confusion and focus on the doctors. When I looked over at him, his hand was over his mouth and tears were forming in his eyes.

"Mrs. Marvet, do you recognize that man?" asked the doctor.

"No... Should I?"

The tears in the man's eyes began falling down his face, as he turned away and exited the room, undoubtedly to prevent everyone from seeing him break down.

I was soon to find out from the nurse that the crying man was my husband.

The majority of the past 3 months had been spent recovering from my various wounds, rehabilitating my now underused muscles and undergoing every scan, x-ray and test imaginable to determine what kind of damage had been done to my brain and how, or if, I could get my memories back.

According to the doctors, nothing appeared to be physically wrong with my brain, though there was some swelling from the accident that has since healed. My parents, sister and best friend, Sarah and Jenna, all came to visit me while I recuperated and the doctors hoped that perhaps one of them could have helped spark my memory. I remained a blank.

With my physical recovery nearly finished, the doctors decided it would be best to let me go home and put me back into familiar surroundings. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that it wasn't an immediate remedy, but still I was hoping...

Eric, my husband, has rarely left my side the entire time. I was told that even while I was in the coma he rarely left my bedside, wanting to be there if and when I woke up. He did go in to work for a few days after I remained unconscious for more than a week, trying to get his mind off of the issue and do something productive. But it was too much for him to bear to be away while I was injured and helpless.

He's been an amazing help and support in my physical therapy, and he's been trying everything he can to help me remember my past with him. I can understand why I fell in love with him, why I married him.

He's highly intelligent, patient, and sensitive with a quirky sense of humor. "Nerdy" is how he described himself to me. At 6' 4", dark hair, green eyes, strong build and a comforting smile, he's quite handsome to boot. In these past months I've often caught myself thinking that it's a lucky woman to have him as a husband, then I would remember that I am that lucky woman.

I must be akin to a ghost for him; helping me with my physical and mental rehabilitation every day like he does. Knowing that my memories of him, of us, are gone. His wife is here, in front of him, but gone all at once. Sometimes, he'll just stare into my eyes and I can see the pain he's going through in his; looking for that spark of recognition, that twinkle in my eye indicating my ever dying love for him. I see that affection he holds for me in his eyes just before it turns to sadness in seeing the stranger that I now am inside.

Now here I was, feeling like a stranger in my own home. Even the bedroom, the place where Eric and I shared many a night making love, did nothing to jog my memory of my past life.

Perhaps there was nothing here worth remembering?

In the few days after I had awakened from my coma, the lack of my memories caused me to question everything I was learning of my life. Plenty of marriages are out of convenience, or impulsive, or simply the result of one or both parties settling for the best they think they can get.

I had no reason to assume that my marriage was anything but a loving one due to Eric's constant and passionate support and attentions for my well-being and recovery. But still, the absence of my memories left me uneasy and questioning everything about what I've been told about my life. Even to question how loving my marriage was. All I had up to this point is everyone else's memories told to me. It was a terrible feeling.

My thoughts were brought back to the present as Eric walked into the bedroom and began talking to me.

"Your clothes are in this dresser here; underwear and bras in the top, shirts and shorts in the middle. Most of your nicer outfits are hanging in the closet with your jeans. I moved those out of the bottom drawer so you wouldn't have to bend so far to get them should you want to try to wear some of the looser ones over the cast. If you would like, I can draw you a bath tonight and help you into the tub so your cast won't get wet."

"No thanks, I think I'll just try to shower with the bag over my leg. Are my pajamas in the top drawer as well?"

He hissed and blushed a little, as if reluctant to give his response, before saying, "Well, there are some teddies in there that might pass for PJs. Though you don't really wear anything to bed."

"Oh!" I exclaimed, also now blushing. "Well, no offense, its just I wasn't exactly planning on getting in bed with you naked on the first night home. I mean, since I still don't remember you and all."

"Don't worry about it. I was planning on sleeping on the couch for a while anyway. Got my pillow and blanket all ready. "

"Oh, no! You shouldn't, it's your bed too. I could..." he cut me off and put his hands on my shoulders.

"No, its fine. I wouldn't expect you to sleep next to a man you barely remember. You're going through a lot. I want you feeling as comfortable as possible in your own home until you get your memories back, however long that takes."

I teared up a little at how understanding Eric was being at this moment and at how I could ever think that this could be a loveless marriage. "Thank you, Eric, for being so patient with me. I'm so sorry to put you through all this."

"Shhh, hush now my love." he soothed as he wrapped his strong arms around me and let me cry into his chest. His lips kissed the top of my head. "I know you don't remember, but I made a vow to be by you always. Now go get your shower and get some sleep. Good night to you, my dear Anna."

"Goodnight, Eric."

He turned back just before he left the room to say. "Oh, and just a heads up, I have to be heading to work in the morning and so I'll be coming in early to grab my clothes and shower."

I smiled my thanks for the warning, and he left for the living room. I turned myself toward the master bath.

I shut the bathroom door behind me and began taking off my clothes, careful not to put any weight on my busted leg. Balancing myself with one of the crutches I studied my naked form in the mirror.

At 5' 6" I now weighed a mere 115 lbs. having lost close to 30 while bedridden in the hospital. My auburn hair flowed down to near my waist, wisps of it falling down my front and grazing over my firm 34 C breasts. Bruises and scrapes from the accident still marked much of my body; some of them will become scars as a constant reminder of my brush with death. I traced varying marks across and down my stomach, if I had any muscle tone before it had long been lost to the many months of laying in bed for far longer than I would like to ever again. Gradually my hand traced mark after mark down my body until I came to the thick bush of hair that had grown from the small patch I had first seen after I had woken, now hiding my womanly folds. Turning around, I strained my neck to view my back and rear. My back showed more signs of the accident but seemed to stop well before my bottom, still curvy if a little flabby from lack of exercise.

I wrapped my casted leg in a plastic bag and carefully arranged myself in the shower. I would have loved to take a good long soak in the bath just then but I'm simply too tired to keep myself from the bed that long tonight. The hot water, cascading over my body, soothed my aches and wounds as the soap washed away the smell and feel of the hospital.

Refreshed from the shower, I hobbled over to my dresser to look for something to sleep in. I blushed again when I saw what was in the drawer. Lace lingerie of all kinds and colors, see through thongs, g-stings, stockings, and teddies. It was clear that we liked to keep things spicy in the bedroom. I settled on a light blue teddy that covered my breasts, stopping just short of covering my bottom, and matching lace boy shorts.

I maneuvered myself into bed, keeping the crutches within reach, and settled myself for a good night's sleep. On the nightstand, to my right, was a picture of Eric and I looking into the camera. His arms wrapped around my waist and both of us smiling, laughing.

"Why can't I remember...?" I murmured as I fell asleep.

- - - -

I awoke the next morning when I heard faint noises in my room. The sun was just beginning to shine in through the window, causing me to moan in discomfort while my eyes adjusted to the bright light.

Eric turned from the dresser when he heard me. "Oh! Sorry Anna. I was hoping not to wake you."

"No, its ok. I wanted to be up before you left anyway." I smiled, and caught myself looking up and down his nearly naked body.

He stood with broad shoulders, a light muscle tone filling out his arms and chest and the hint of a six-pack. It was the muscle underneath his grey boxer-briefs that I was surprised to see so clearly. His long shaft strained against the fabric as it traveled up toward his right hip bone, the waistband stopping it from escaping out from the top of it.

"Well, I was still going to make you breakfast before I left." Eric commented as he walked over to me. "I only wanted to let you sleep a little longer before hand. You always complained about how you never got a good night's sleep in the hospital."

"I've had enough of beds. I'd like to spend more time awake and moving around thank you very much."

"As you wish my dear." he cupped my face with his hand and kissed me on the cheek. My eyes wondered back to the pole tenting his underwear.

"I can make breakfast while you shower if you want."

"Don't you dare risk straining that leg by standing over a stove. I'll carry you to the table when I'm done. Unless of course you'd like to do some of that moving around and walk over yourself?" He smiled coyly as he walked off to the bathroom.

He forgot to close the door fully when he went in. A foot wide gap was still left that I could look into when he turned on the water. I gasped a little in surprise when I saw him strip off his boxers. Cute butt. That's all I managed to glimpse before he stepped into the shower.

I noticed moisture building between my legs. Looking underneath the covers, my lace boy shorts were now transparent. Then it hit me; I didn't even remember what sex was like. I looked back to the open bathroom door, steam now beginning to fill the room.

How many times had Eric and I made love in this very bed, and I don't even remember what it feels like? Was he my first? How old was I when I lost my virginity? Did I like it? If I couldn't remember ever having had sex, did that make me a virgin all over again?

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice Eric emerge from the bathroom, shirtless, with a sheen of water left over from the steam clinging to his skin.

"Let's get you to the table so we can eat." he said, smiling and approaching the bed.

"What? No! You don't have to... Don't!" I protested as he picked me up, worried he'd see the dampness of my underwear.

Thankfully the position in which he picked me up and carried me allowed my thighs to hide the evidence of my arousal. Being held in his strong arms like this had a certain comforting effect that I hadn't recalled feeling before. Warm, safe, womanly. It wasn't helping the moisture between my legs go away.

My mind drifted back to the thoughts I was having earlier on the bed as he sat me down at the table and began preparing our breakfast.

I don't even remember what it looks like anymore. How long was it? How thick?

My eyes followed him, drinking in his form, as he darted about the kitchen and to and from the bedroom to dress before he put on the bacon.

What did it feel like when he was inside me? What did it feel like as he emptied himself into my womb?

I mindlessly listened to him as he talked about his plans for the day after he comes home from work.

How often did he make love to me? Once a month? Once a week? Certainly it was more often than that.

I absently answered questions I barely heard as he served me breakfast. My eyes darted down to his groin, the outline of his penis, now, disappointingly lost underneath his pants.

Was I a screamer? I'm his wife. I bet he knows how to make me scream.

"Well, I hate to leave you here alone your first full day back, but I have a lot of work I still have to catch up on after spending so much time at the hospital with you."

"Hmm? Oh, right, of course." I staggered, having come out of my lustful thoughts. "Don't feel like you have to rush back home early for me. I'm sure I can find plenty to keep me busy finding my way around again and trying to jog my memory." I smiled as he got up and collected our plates.

"Well, just don't risk straining yourself in any way. I'll be back by six."

"Have a good day at work."

He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Something he's slowly been reintroducing me to the past couple months. Still too removed from my memories and identity to be comfortable with anything more than these small kisses. I've been getting used to them, beginning to like them even.

As he walked out the door, I wondered... What did his true kisses feel like?

- - - -

Two weeks later I finally got my cast off. It felt great to finally be allowed to walk without crutches, be able to lay down in a bath or stand in the shower without needing to worry about getting my leg wet.

It also meant I had the freedom to get out of the house without needing help from Eric or my parents to drive me places. Not to mention it's been boring lying around the house all day while Eric's at work. I couldn't even clean properly with only one good leg to balance on.

It hasn't all been dreary boredom since I left the hospital though. Every night Eric has made sure to come home early enough so that we could spend some quality time together. He'd tell me stories of our first dates together, anniversaries, holidays; all the special memories I'd forgotten and was curious to know. He even went out of his way to set up a few special romantic dinners at home. Romancing me all over again, he called it.

Tonight, he took me out to a romantic dinner for the first time since I've been home, in celebration of my cast coming off.

Every night before we went to our separate beds, well Eric his couch, he would cup my face in his hands and look into my eyes searching for the remnants of his wife and never finding her. Still, he would lean in and press his lips to mine. A passionate kiss, not a lover's kiss, but not a gentle passive one either. Every few nights his tongue would press against my lips seeking entrance to my mouth and I would reluctantly deny him access. Our kiss would end and he would smile at me sadly, but love still shining in his eyes, and we would bid each other goodnight.

Tonight I allowed his tongue passage past my lips and returned his kiss with an equal passion. I've denied him so much for so long, and I couldn't deny myself this simple pleasure any longer either. My body responded to him instantly, subconsciously knowing what it wanted from him, pressing my body against his, wrapping my arms and a leg around him. His hands roamed my body with one resting on a breast and the other my bottom. I could feel his erection straining against my stomach underneath his pants.

As his hand moved to unzip the back of my dress I grudgingly broke his lips from mine.

"Not yet, please. I'm not ready." He cupped my face in his hand and looked at me lovingly.

"Of course, its alright. I'll wait as long as I must." I shivered when he said this, my sex adding more moisture to my already sodden underwear. I smiled in relief at his patience and understanding.

What kind of man would wait for his wife like this? He should be taking me back to our bed and ravishing me to his cock's content instead of lying on that couch every night! My body wants him in ways I can't even remember, but my brain is still too scared and uncomfortable with what's happening to let it go any further. What kind of torture was I putting the both of us through?

We released each other and went to our separate rooms.

It was strange, living in the same house with a man I still barely knew, knowing our relationship was more than what it was and here he was willing to start from the beginning again. Rebuilding an intimacy that can only exist in a special bond between two people.

All for his wife. All for me.

But was I still the same woman I was before? Could I ever be that woman again? Would I still be worth all his efforts in the end?

"I hope so..." I whispered to no one as I fell asleep.

- - - - -

The following morning, after Eric left for work, I had a quick shower, dressed and headed out the door. I thought about calling my best friend, Sara, to come along with me today. She's been a strong shoulder for me to lean on since my accident, and the only one of my supposed friends that has made the effort to see me and help in my recovery. I know she holds a few answers about mine and Eric's relationship, and may be able to help me through what I have planned today; my sister Emily for that matter too. But I decided against it, believing that this is something I best do on my own.

I had been paying close attention to Eric's stories of our relationship and the special places and events that have dotted our history together. I'd written every one that seemed significant down and today I planned on visiting each place that I could. I didn't want anyone with me today in the fear that they would attempt to tell me their recollection of the stories surrounding each location, artificially recreating the memories for me. I wanted to remember on my own; let the impact of entering each place hit my memory full on, if it came at all.

My first stop was the museum; where Eric and I first met. Once inside I made my way for the Geology exhibit. Eric had been a volunteer here, answering questions and explaining the details to the curious public about the various objects on display. There was no such volunteer attending the exhibit today however.

I moved around the exhibit, inspecting the various gemstones on display, the enormous geode filled with amethyst, the model of the local river formations through time. Up on one wall was a computer screen giving real time alerts to earthquakes being registered by various seismographs around the country and showing where they've happened within the past month; all certainly too small to be felt by humans. I stopped at the next wall, filled with information about the regions geologic history, and read for a moment.