Married To A Stranger Vows

A harsh, antiseptic smell packed Olivia Montgomery’s lungs when she took a shaky breath. Her eyelids fluttered, wavering, unwilling to part, as if super glued shut. Her body throbbed in places she could not specify, a dull, unrelenting throb drumming beneath her pores and skin. Somewhere in the vicinity, a persistent beeping sound stampeded against her ears, rhythmic and insistent.

She attempted to move, but a tight yank on her wrist dragged her to a halt. A muscle mass weight leaned towards her left hand, warmth and firm, fingers interwoven a the beach hers in an kitchen eat out. A prick of panic shot up her spine.

Her eyes flew open.

Bright white light stabbed into her eyes, making her blink rapidly. The room came into focus — unforgiving walls, clinical monitors, the unmistakable odor of antiseptic hanging in the air. A health center.

Her mind thickened with confusion.” How did she get here?

And then she noticed him.

The guy sitting beside her.

He turned into looking at her with such depth that her pulse hammered. Dark hair, with no extra than token ravel, as if he’d run his arms through it too typically. Chiseled features — high cheekbones, a strong jawline, lips mashed into a fright line. But it was his eyes that kept her captive. A deep, piercing blue.

A stranger.

Her hands twitched under his. He clutched tighter as if he feared she would vanish, he noted.

“Liv,” he gasped, comfort heavy in his tone. “You’re wakeful.”

She stiffened. Liv. The call was an unfamiliar word on his lips. Too familiar, too intimate.

He sighed, and his gaze passed over her face as if he were memorizing every detail. “It’s me, Gabriel.” His voice was deep, velvet smooth but laced with something raw. “Your husband.”

The words surged over her, like a rush of salt water.

Husband?

She wrenched her hand away, her coronary heart a pounding drum of panic. Her frame recoiled, instinctual, though ache lanced via her skull, pin-prick and unforgiving. A small gasp escaped her, her head falling back against the pillows again.

In an instant, Gabriel was on tiptoe, a pained look on his face. “Easy,” he soothed, reaching for her again. “You hit your head. The docs said you could be disoriented.”

Disoriented? She was more than disoriented. She drowned.

Her respiratory was available in quick, irregular bursts. “I… I don’t…” The words tangled in her throat.

His face seemed to fall, a momentary flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

She shook her head, an apology stammering to her lips.

For a moment he said nothing. Just stood there, frozen like a statue, as if he were absorbing the blow. Then he nodded, his throat working now. “It’s okay.” His voice went quiet, but his arms curled to fists at his sides. “The docs told me this can happen.”

He felt in his pocket, his telephone emerging. After a few taps, he angled the screen to show her.

An image.

Her heart almost stopped.

It turned into her. Dressed in a demure white robe with her hair pinned back in soft waves, a beaming smile on her lips. And next to her—Gabriel, not letting her go, his features half-in-shadow as he pressed a kiss against her temple. News of his passing was shared in accordance with Jewish law.

Proof.

Her stomach twisted. The photograph became simple. But it was as if you were gazing at a stranger’s life.

“I don’t…” Her fingers gripped the sheets, the medical institution’s bloodless air shoe lacing toward her pores and skin. “I don’t keep this in mind. I won't forget you.”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “You’re my wife, Olivia. We’ve been married for half a year.”

Six months.

She had no memory of it.

She was washed by a wave of nausea. Her thoughts were like a clean slate, wiped easy.

The door opened and a doctor walked in, and Olivia was spared the sharp tip of Gabriel’s stare. The next couple of minutes broke in a blur of clinical questions, checks, reassurances that memory loss after head trauma wasn’t an unusual thing. That it might be a thing that returned, regularly.

Gabriel spoke slightly. He really looked at her, inscrutable, intense.

When the medical doctor finally left, silence yawned between them.

Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips. “Where was I before the twist of fate?”

Gabriel hesitated.

A shadow waved over his face, too low to read. “Home,” he said finally. “You have been domestic.”

Somehow, the way he said it, made her stomach knot.

The doctor had told her there were no signs and symptoms of foul play. That she’d fallen. Hit her head. But something inside her told her that wasn’t the whole truth.

And then, another idea hit her.

If she were home, who had been her family? Her buddies? Why was it handiest Gabriel who changed?

There was no more beating against her head.

Gabriel stepped a step closer, as though reading her mind. His arms brushed her hand again, this time hesitant. “I realize this is a lot to take in. But I promise you, Liv, I’ll look after you. We will get through this ” together.

She desired to consider him.

But there was something deep inside her that screamed — Don’t trust him.

But when his fingers ran along her pores and skin, heat curled in her belly, rancid, risky.

There was confusion and attraction at war inside her.

And the door creaked open again.

In came a nurse, followed by a person Olivia didn’t comprehend.

Tall and lean, with untried sharp eyes that locked into hers at once.

His voice became urgent. “Olivia.”

Gabriel stiffened beside her. His entire body went rigid, his hand tightening around hers in a very clear claiming gesture.

The stranger didn’t even glance at him, gaze fixed squarely on Olivia.

“You don’t remember me do you?” His tone became flavored with something — desperation? Regret?

She shook her head, yet her chest held tight.

He blew out air and raked a hand through his hair. “I get afraid of that.” Then he glanced at Gabriel, his jaw tightening. “Tell her the reality.”

Gabriel tightened her grip on her hand until she felt ice cold.

A slow, portentous kick back inched up Olivia’s spine.

The stranger stepped forward. “Olivia, you were going to break up with him.”

Her breath hitched.

Gabriel’s hand clamped down, too, like a vise. His voice became dark. Controlled. Dangerous.

“Forget about him, Liv.”

But doubt crept into her mind, tainting it all.

Was Gabriel her faithful ravished husband?

Or did he become the reason she lost her memories?

And extra importantly—

Had she been taking walks from him?

Olivia’s body felt as though it had no weight, as if she were suspended between the realm of the living and that of something darker, something unknown. The smell of antiseptic filled the air, the soft murmur of voices echoing from outside the sterile hospital room. The beeping of a heart monitor gave an eerie rhythm to her waking thoughts.

She didn’t know how long she’d been passing in and out of consciousness, nor how much time had gone by since she’d first opened her eyes.

But she was sure of one thing with terrifying certainty.

She wasn’t alone.

A powerful hand enveloped her little one, fingers threading between her own in an almost possessive grip. The feeling sent an undecided tingling through her spine. She should have pulled away. She should’ve known who he was.

But she didn’t.

A rich vo