"WHAT AM I going to do, Doc?" Dylan asked as soon as both men stepped out of the room. "She doesn't remember me! What the Hell is going on?!"

  "I had mentioned this to you before, Mr. Matthews," Dr. McLaney said. "your wife may suffer from temporary amnesia."

  Dylan groaned, turning around as he ran his hands through his hair and over his face in frustration. He couldn't believe this! He was going home with a person who thought he was a complete stranger. This had to be a prank or something.

  "How long is this thing going to last?" Dylan finally asked. "I mean sir, that's my wife. That's the person who has better memory than I do. She's the one who is smarter than I am, and believe me I'm pretty smart, but when it comes to her I look like a donkey holding a diploma."

Dr. McLaney looked at Dylan and nodded, trying to figure out a rough estimate as to how long the young woman would be under the spell of amnesia.

  "I don't think it will take years," he said, "but it could be awhile before her memory starts jogging back. Just go home with her tonight and keep taking her places you both have gone to. If that doesn't work then. . ."

"Then what?" Dylan spat.

"Then you may have to start the relationship over. As friends. Make her fall in love with you all over again." Dr. McLaney left Dylan to himself, leaving the poor man with worry and a hint of doubt.

How was Valerie going to recover?

…

A
F E W
D A Y S
L A T E R
---

    As soon as Valerie was discharged from the hospital, the duo walked towards Dylan's rental car and began to drive home; an awkward silence filling the air as the radio played music quietly in the background.

  "You hungry?" Dylan asked. They waited at the a stoplight, the young man waiting patiently for a response from his wife.

  "Yeah." the light flicked to green, and they drove to a nearby restaurant. Dylan didn't know where to go with a conversation. He missed talking to his wife about everything, now he's going to have to deal with her not remembering anything.

  They sat across each other in a booth, looking over the menus. Valerie already knew what she wanted --- she wanted eggs and sausage with a side of iced tea. Dylan wanted the same thing, but instead of sausage, he wanted country fried steak smothered in sausage gravy. Once they filed their orders with the waitress, they looked out the window. Yet, another silence took the atmosphere.

  "Tell me a little about you," Valerie said as she peered her eyes over to her husband. Dylan looked at her and gave her a shy smile, then began to tell her about how he grew up briefly.

"Does any of that ring a bell to you?" Dylan asked. Valerie shook her head no, then went back to staring off into the windowpane.

  As the two plates of food pounded lightly on the table's surface, Dylan concluded that this whole memory loss thing wasn't going to be easy.

And he wasn't sure if was willing to be patient enough for his wife to get better.

  This was going to be hard. . .