It was the most perfect of summer days. Beatrix Kirkland was in the passenger seat of the candy apple red 2012 Chevy Camaro convertible enjoying the wind whipping at her long messy blonde hair, emerald eyes bright. Alfred Jones – her American boyfriend – was happy that Beatrix was happy. When they had first met, her green orbs were always shadowed by sadness and the British girl rarely smiled; now she smiled almost everyday. Alfred's short dirty-blonde hair blew away from cerulean blue eyes that had always been full of joy, but were even more so since he'd met Beatrix. The couple were in such bliss driving down the scenic highway; they never saw the other vehicle until it was too late.
Alfred woke in a strange room –no a hospital room.
"Where's Beatrix?!" his first thought blurted from his mouth – this happened often – drawing the attention of his doctor.
"She's in the ICU she sustained a head injury, she hasn't woken up yet," the doctor explained calmly.
"I want to see her," Alfred demanded.
"What is your relation to her?" the doctor replied just as seriously.
"I'm her boyfriend," Alfred countered.
"Come with me then," the doctor led from the room and up three floors to the ICU, Alfred in tow.
The doctor opened the door to a room revealing an unconscious Beatrix in the hospital bed, blonde hair matted with blood and pale faced.
"Beatrix!" Alfred rushed to her side.
Her eyes fluttered open, a lost look in her eyes.
"W-who are you?! Get away from me you bloody wanker!" Beatrix exclaimed.
Alfred frowned at not being recognized by the woman he loved, but began to laugh at the latter part of her exclamation.
"Back to square one I see," was all Alfred said in a mock joyous tone.
"Who are you?" Beatrix asked.
"I'm your boyfriend, Alfred Jones," he replied.
The doctor wrote something on the papers on his clipboard.
"I don't remember you," was all she said.
"Do you know your name?" it was the doctor's turn to ask questions.
"Of course I do, you git! My name is Beatrix Kirkland and I'm twenty-three years old. Twenty-four in two months," Beatrix scoffed.
"Very good. Mr. Jones, you have no major injuries. This is your discharge notice," the doctor showed a piece of paper before handing said paper off to a nurse.
"I am not leaving until Beatrix leaves," Alfred claimed stubbornly.
"I don't even know you!" Beatrix protested.
"Well, Miss Kirkland has no problems other than amnesia, she is discharged as well," the doctor handed off another yellow slip of paper to the nurse.
"Good. I hate hospitals," Beatrix huffed.
"Mr. Jones, I think it would be a good idea for you to stay with Miss Kirkland. It may help her recover her lost memories," the doctor reasoned.
"What?! I don't even know this wanker!" she protested.
"You do know me. Maybe hanging out with me will help you remember that," Alfred spoke seriously – a rare occasion for the happy-go-lucky American.
The day passed, Alfred and Beatrix were eating Chinese take-out in the living room of Beatrix's far-too-large-for-one-person house. After a long – and loud – argument with Alfred, Beatrix finally gave in to him living with her for the time being.
A month flew by and the Brit was beginning to wonder if she would ever get her memories back She had grown accustomed to the loud American, and had even been catching herself thinking about how attractive he really was.
The phone rang. Alfred was out grocery shopping, so Beatrix answered the phone.
"Hello?" she inquired into the speaker.
"Beatrix? Is that you, dear?" a woman's voice asked?
"Who is calling?" Beatrix began to get wary.
"Beatrix, it's me, your mum," the lady – apparently her mother – answered.
"I don't remember you, sorry," Beatrix sighed.
"It's alright dear, that was expected," her mother attempted to comfort her.
"Well, since I don't remember you or my siblings if I have any maybe you can help me!" Beatrix was hopeful about her memories being returned for the first time.
"How about we meet up in the park and I will bring all of your brothers and sisters?" her mother inquired.
"That sounds great! I just need to check with Alfred," Beatrix exclaimed.
"Who's Alfred?" her mother questioned.
"The git claims to have been my boyfriend before the accident, but I have no more memories of him than anyone else," the younger Brit explained.
"Ah, well, I can't wait to meet him!" her mother piped.
"See you – we didn't set a time," Beatrix pointed out.
"How about four o' clock?" her mum suggested.
"Sounds great!" Beatrix glanced at a clock noting it was just after two o' clock and Alfred should be home soon.
"See you later then, dear," her mum chirped.
"Bye Mum," Beatrix hung up the phone.
About ten minutes later the blue-eyed American returned.
"Bertie?" Alfred called as he sat down the groceries.
"In my bedroom changing clothes. I have a meeting with my family at four o' clock at the park," 'Bertie' answered.
"Okay!" Alfred yelled enthusiastically.
Beatrix slipped the lime green and black striped t-shirt over her head and turned to look in the full length mirror. She smiled, pleased with her choice.
After the meeting with her family – Bertie had regained a few vague memories from her distant childhood in London – Beatrix laid in bed wearing her soft mint green pajamas. Alfred was sprawled on the couch – passed out while watching the Captain America movie – in a white t-shirt and American flag themed boxers.
After many long months Beatrix had regained most of her memories but not as many of Alfred as she would have liked. Slowly the American had coaxed her back into his arms and she fell head over heels into love with him again. Everything was just as before: they hugged, they exchanged tender kisses on the cheek, and they said 'I love you' every night before they fell asleep.
Alfred was now determined. He was going to ask her. They sat together on a park bench where they had experienced their first date nearly three years ago. Alfred saw one of the Brit's favorite wild flowers standing alone a few steps away. He stood and walked over to it, plucked it from the ground, and walked back to the bench. He pulled the forest green velvet box from his pocket and knelt in front of her box and flower in hand.
"Beatrix Kirkland," Alfred opened the velvet box revealing a thin white gold ring with two emeralds nestled in it, "would you marry me?"
Bertie's eyes went wide as every lost memory returned to her in a flash. Every moment she'd ever spent with Alfred clear as day and returned to her. She nearly fell off the bench in her haste to hug the American she'd grown to love.
"Of course I will! Yes, yes," she spoke through the tears of joy streaming from her emerald eyes.
Alfred gently slid the gleaming ring onto the ring finger of her left hand.
"I remember everything now Al, it's all so clear," the Brit whispered.
"I never stopped loving you," Alfred returned.
"I didn't quite realize it, but neither did I," Beatrix confessed.
Alfred cupped her face in his hands, and glided down to let his lips meet hers in a soft gentle kiss.
Cradled in the arms of the man she loved, Beatrix was happier than ever before. She realized then, she didn't need her memories to be truly happy. All she needed was the love of a certain American by the name of Alfred F. Jones.