There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

– Maya Angelou

{This is Part 3 of my 3-part Serial story- The Greatest Loss. 

Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here}

White light blinded her as she opened her eyes. Where was she? She couldn’t remember much.

Struggling to prop herself up on one elbow, she tried to shield her face from the piercing light. Looking down at herself, she saw a white robe. Scraps of memory flitted across her mind: The tears, the blackouts, the anger, the arguments, a man’s sweet face , the bridge. . .

Wait! The Bridge! She was going to jump off it! Was this it? Had she taken the plunge? Was this. . .?

Tears touched the edge of her eyelashes. She didn’t mean to do it. She would give anything to see him again, hug him one more time, apologise for all the angst and the fury. Wait, who was he? What was his name? Why was she so muddled?

Soft footsteps distracted her line of thought. The light still kept her from seeing anything, so she called out, ‘Who’s there?’

“It’s me, Gabriel,” said a masculine voice. “Are you feeling better? Can we talk now?”

‘Who are you? Where am I?’

“We’ve discussed this before, Sylvia. Don’t you remember?” his gentle voice soothed her but also made her mind race.

‘No, I can’t remember anything,’ she whispered in grief.

“Never mind, go back to sleep,” his voice continued. And, as if in a dream (or death?), she slipped peacefully back into oblivion.

~~~~

‘How is she?’

“The prognosis is the same, I’m afraid. Deep-seated dementia and schizophrenia, leading to manic-depression with suicidal tendencies. She was rather violent in the first few days after we found her, if you remember?”

‘Yes, how can I forget? I still recall the broken window panes in your office.’

“Well, that was my fault. I should have known better than to stock ancient Incan artifacts in a doctor’s office. Of course, I guess I never did anticipate them flying out the window.”

The strained expression on the other’s face made him switch his tone abruptly.” Sorry, I didn’t mean to make light of the matter.”

‘So, what now? When can I see her?’

“Not for some more time, I’m sorry. The sedative is working now and we want to gradually ease her back into normalcy. The dosage can take weeks to take complete effect.”

‘Weeks?’ His breath caught in his throat, as he swallowed a lump.

Kindness in his eyes, Dr. Gabriel touched Mark’s shoulder. “She needs time, Mark. Give her that and she will come back to you, good as new. I promise you this.”

~~~~

Five weeks later

Soft tones of flute music played in the room where she sat, wrapped in a warm rug, sipping on her lemon tea. She looked placidly out the window and watched the gentle snowflakes dancing in the air, chasing each other in a lazy pirouette. Her hair was no longer in a tight bun but fell softly about her face, framing the filled-out cheekbones which had a tiny spot of colour in them.

“Can I get you something else?”

Sylvia looked up and gazed with gratitude into Mark’s eyes. ‘Thank you, kind sir. I have everything I need.’

It stabbed him every time she called him, ‘Sir’, but he never let it show. With a beaming smile, he bowed and left the room quietly. Outside, he met Dr. Gabriel and said, ‘ She spoke to me with more emotion today.’ The childlike happiness on his face wrung Gabriel’s heart. “Of course she did,” he said brightly, not showing the emotion he really felt.

He then watched as Mark picked up his hat and gloves and left for the day. He would return the following day. And every day after that for many weeks to come. . .

~~~~

Nine months later

Mark sat in the armchair next to the bed, his hand on the bed, next to Sylvia as she lay sleeping. The cool wintry breeze was lulling him to sleep and he gave in to the stupor.

‘Mark, wake up.’

His eyes flew open as he heard her voice calling out his name. She was sitting up in bed, holding his hand, smiling into his eyes. In them was the spark he had longed to see all year- the look of recognition. There was so much to tell, so much to share and so much more to look forward to, as they locked glances for the first time in nearly a year.

In that moment, on a cold winter’s morning, like the sun peeping out from behind the clouds to give the sliver of warmth, Mark embraced Sylvia, welcoming her back into his life.

©Shailaja V