~ Chapter 28 ~

Marlena reached for the photograph and examined it closely. She and Alex had clearly been blissfully happy when it was taken, judging by the joy that shone from the smiling faces staring back at her.

"I remembered this. Earlier today, fragments of a song came floating through my mind…"

"You," Alex whispered, his eyes suspiciously bright.

"Yes, that's it. I don't know what triggered it, but I recalled dancing with you. It seemed like it was a special night and I found myself crying. I was looking for answers. That's why I came to your room."

"It was so very special. You have no idea…" His words trailed off as he realized how insensitive his remark sounded, given what she'd just learned.

"You're right. I have no idea, but you do. You can't imagine how frustrating it is to find out that you've known for years that I've been suffering from amnesia, and you've only now decided to come back into my life to help me deal with it." Her tone was accusatory, and her eyes blazed.

"That's not fair, and it's not what you think. I had my reasons, believe me."

When no further explanation was forthcoming, colour rose to her cheeks and her mouth tightened.

"Is that all you're going to say? Don't I have the right to know about my own past?" Her voice rose as she struggled to deal with the anger that was threatening to overwhelm her.

"I wish with all my heart that I could tell you. In some ways, it would make it so much easier, just to blurt it all out, consequences be damned."

"How bad could it be for you to give me a few hints? Jog my memory, send it in the right direction?"

"The situation is terribly complicated. There's more to it than just the amnesia you suffered all those years ago."

Neither of them spoke as the minutes ticked by. Observing Alex, Marlena could sense that he was struggling to come to a decision. Its potential ramifications were weighing heavily on him, and he twisted his hands together as a jumble of thoughts whirled around in his head. Finally, with a sigh, he looked up at her again.

"I realize how hard this is for you. Many of my patients engaged in highly destructive behaviour because their pasts were total blanks to them. They simply couldn't stand the not knowing, and they lashed out at everyone around them."

When she opened her mouth to protest, he raised a hand to stop her.

"I'm not saying that that's what you're doing, but it's not inconceivable that you'd lose patience with the process, and that you'd be willing to cut corners to move things along. The thing is, yours is not a straight case of amnesia. Like I said before, there's a lot more to it than that, and, unfortunately, you really do need to remember on your own, or some of your memories may be lost to you forever."

"But couldn't I get those back? By people talking to me about the missing parts, reminding me of past events, so that I could reconstruct those memories? Might that work?"

"It's not the same as recovering them yourself. You'd be getting them through the filters of someone else's interpretation."

"Would that be so terrible?"

"They'd never truly be yours. Wouldn't that bother you?"

She was about to deny it, but the words stuck in her throat. She nodded her agreement. Of course, she wanted her very own memories back, whole and unaltered. Silence stretched between them again, until her curiosity got the better of her.

"You say my case is different. How so?"

He directed a rueful smile her way.

"Oh, right. You can't tell me. Next thing you know, you'll be admitting that it's classified information."

When he didn't chuckle as she'd expected, her eyes widened, as the enormity of his tacit confession sank in.

"Oh, my gosh! There's something about my case that's classified? I've been told that John is part of the ISA. Are you an agent, too? Is that why you left me?"

He managed to remain expressionless as she searched his face for answers. Inwardly, he cringed at the idea of everything coming out into the open. She wasn't ready emotionally. It was much too soon. Cursing himself for his unwitting slip, he remained mute as he tried desperately to figure out a way to perform damage control.

Marlena, too, was quiet, but her head was spinning. If Alex had been working for the government in some type of covert operation, there was no way he could divulge anything of value. She was savvy enough to realize that he'd spilled more than he intended to, and that he'd now be even more guarded. Despite this insight, her first instinct was to blast him for withholding this information from her. Her angry words died on her lips, however, as she raised her head to look at him. His face had taken on a ghostly pallor, and his eyes… oh, his eyes. They appeared haunted, as if he was picturing something truly horrific. Clearly, whatever had happened in the past had left an indelible impression on him and, from his reaction, it had been extremely traumatic. Did she really want to delve into it?

Lost in the maelstrom of images in his head, Alex struggled to clear his mind and return to the present, but it was a fruitless effort. Over and over again, the same moment in time played itself out before him.

The room. He would never forget the room. Cold. Small. Dark. A sense of claustrophobia washed over him the moment he stepped in, and it grew steadily worse. He stifled a sneeze as a strong chemical smell invaded his nostrils. Suddenly, he detected movement on the other side of the glass. By the light of the fluorescent bulb, he caught sight of Marlena, and gasped. What had they done to her? Her eyes appeared glazed, as if she'd been drugged, and her face was haggard. No. No! He couldn't go through with this. He had to stop them. National security be damned, the woman he loved was more important than anything. In his haste to get to her, his chair fell back with a resounding clang. Her head shot up, and he was certain she could see him, even though he knew he was looking through one-way glass. Her eyes were pleading, and he headed for the door that would lead him to her. Instantly, two tall, burly men clamped a hand on each of his shoulders and he found himself pushed, none too gently, back into his chair.

Snapping out of his waking nightmare, he was amazed to discover that Marlena's expression had softened noticeably. Compassion radiated from her as she reached for his hands and held them in her own.

"It's bad, isn't it? Really, really bad?"

When he averted his gaze, she tilted his chin up and waited patiently until he looked at her again.

"You don't have to say anything. I could tell, just from your reaction to your own memories, that there must be something terrifying in my past that's still haunting you. I'm starting to think that there may be a very good reason why my mind won't go there again, and why it shut down in the first place. I'm not even sure that I want to remember right now. So, if you don't mind, I'd rather leave the past buried for a while. At least, the part of it that's dark and painful. There are other parts, however…"

His eyes opened wide as he detected the unexpected playfulness of her tone. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him into a tender kiss.

"Let me give you something else to think about," she whispered, intent on doing all she could to bring the colour back to his cheeks and to replace the troubled look he wore.

Desperate to erase the images that had come flooding back to him, he offered no resistance, allowing himself to be drawn into the warmth of her mouth, and the gentleness of her caress. Within moments, the horror of the past was replaced by the promise of the future – their future, his and Marlena's, together again at last.

They kissed deeply for several minutes, before leaning back on the sofa, secure within each other's embrace.

"I am sorry…" he began, but she quickly silenced him by placing a finger on his lips.

"It's okay. Really, it is. I think I truly understand, for the first time, what we're up against, and how all the knowledge you have of what's happened must be eating you up inside. There's no rush. I'm certain that events will keep coming back to me, as they have been, and that ultimately, I'll know everything. Even though I'm more aware than ever that the process will be long, and painful in parts, I'll have you beside me. You'll help me through it."

She smiled at him, that same smile that could melt all his cares away, and he brushed the tip of her nose with his lips.

"I will be beside you every step of the way, I promise. You can count on me. I won't let any harm come to you, ever again."

"I know." Her reply was soft, but confident. She trusted him implicitly.

"There's one piece of business that we can't put off any longer." In response to her quizzically raised brow, he answered her unspoken question. "Finding you a new therapist."

Retrieving his phone from the desk where he'd casually tossed it earlier, he scrolled through his contacts. As he quickly assessed each one, rejecting name after name, he finally paused, and nodded to himself. Without hesitation, he highlighted a seldom used, yet nevertheless very familiar number, and connected the call. After a couple of rings, a deep voice, accented by an Irish brogue, answered.

"Dr. Frank Kelly here."

"Frank, it's Alex North. Have I got a case for you!"