Chapter 472 The Woman His Heart Remembered
Ryan’s long eyelashes trembled slightly.
Rose looked at him with an expression that left no room for argument.
For a moment, he seemed to consider resisting.
Then his fingers tightened slightly around hers.
In the end, he lowered his eyes and gave a quiet hum of agreement.
Robert watched the exchange in silence.
He had known Ryan for years.
He knew how difficult this man could be.
Ryan had always been controlled to the point of being frustrating. He rarely showed emotion, rarely changed his mind once he had made a decision, and had never been the sort of person who willingly let someone else take control of his choices.
Yet now, after losing so much of his memory, he seemed willing to listen to Rose without much resistance.
Robert let out a quiet breath.
“Miss Bennett,” he said, “he seems to listen to you.”
Rose wasn’t particularly pleased by that observation.
She released a small sigh and looked at Robert.
“How much of this is likely to be permanent?”
Her expression tightened.
“He can speak normally, but what about his vision? Will that recover?”
Robert’s expression became more serious.
“We need to be careful about drawing conclusions this early. After a surgery this extensive, memory and other cognitive functions can be affected. Some of what we’re seeing may improve as the brain recovers from the operation.”
Rose listened closely.
“His memory loss could be temporary?”
“It could be,” Robert said. “But we can’t promise that.”
He paused.
“There are several possibilities. The surgery itself, the original tumour, the period of severe illness before the operation, and the stress his brain went through afterward can all contribute to his current condition.”
Rose’s brows drew together.
“And psychologically?”
“We’ll need a proper assessment from a neuropsychologist and, if necessary, a psychiatrist. Given everything he’s been through, there may also be psychological factors affecting how he processes his memories.”
Robert was careful with his wording.
“We shouldn’t call it PTSD or dissociative amnesia yet. It’s too early to know exactly what’s happening.”
Rose nodded.
That was what she had expected.
She hated uncertainty.
But medicine didn’t always give her the answers she wanted immediately.
Ryan cooperated throughout the examination.
He remained quiet while Robert and the medical team assessed his neurological function, vision, orientation, speech, strength and memory.
Rose stayed nearby.
Whenever someone tried to move her farther away, Ryan’s attention followed her.
By the time the examination was finished, Robert’s expression remained thoughtful.
“His immediate postoperative recovery is better than we feared,” he said. “The surgical site looks stable, and we aren’t seeing signs of a new major complication.”
Rose’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
“And his vision?”
“The left eye has been severely affected, but there are still signs that the pathway isn’t completely lost. We need more time before we know how much function can return.”
“So it may improve?”
“Yes. Gradually, potentially.”
Robert looked at her.
“His right eye is in much better condition. If we’d waited longer before operating, both could have been seriously compromised.”
Rose closed her eyes for a brief moment.
She didn’t want to imagine that possibility.
“And everything else?”
“He still needs a great deal of rehabilitation. He’s been unconscious for nearly two weeks, and his body has been through major surgery. He’s weak, his balance needs to be assessed, and we need to monitor his neurological function closely.”
Robert glanced toward Ryan.
“But the immediate danger from the operation has passed.”
Rose finally allowed herself to breathe.
“Thank you.”
Robert gave her shoulder a gentle pat.
“It’s going to be difficult for him.”
He hesitated.
“And probably for you.”
Rose didn’t answer immediately.
“He’s attached to you right now,” Robert continued. “You’re the only person he seems to respond to consistently. Try not to overwhelm him.”
Rose glanced at Ryan.
“I know.”
Robert nodded and left the room with the rest of the medical team.
The room became quiet again.
Ryan remained propped against the pillows.
After a moment, his fingers reached out and lightly caught one of Rose’s.
Rose turned.
He was staring at her.
“What was your name again?” he asked quietly. “I forgot.”
“Rose.”
She gently freed her hand and poured him a glass of water.
She placed it on the bedside table within his reach.
Ryan looked down at his empty hand.
His fingers curled slightly.
“Rose,” he repeated.
Then, after a brief pause, he looked back at her.
“You’re my wife?”
Rose went still.
The question itself wasn’t surprising.
But the complete certainty in his expression was.
She stared at him.
Ryan’s face remained calm, almost stern.
There was no embarrassment in his voice.
No hesitation.
He simply seemed to be trying to understand something that, despite the missing memories, felt instinctively true to him.
“You don’t seem to like me very much,” he said.
Rose took a slow breath.
She sat down beside the bed.
“Your body hasn’t fully recovered yet. You need to continue with your treatment and rehabilitation. I want you to cooperate with the medical team.”
Ryan nodded.
“Okay.”
“I’ll take you back to the United States once you’re strong enough to travel.”
He accepted that without questioning where in the United States she meant.
“Okay.”
Rose looked at the clock.
“It’s late. You should sleep.”
She wanted to return to her room and review the latest literature on postoperative memory disorders.
Whatever was happening to Ryan, she had to understand it.
If he had truly lost large portions of his autobiographical memory, they couldn’t simply wait and hope it returned on its own.
And there was still too much left unresolved between them.
Their divorce.
His illness.
The years they had spent apart.
Their daughter.
There was no way she could explain all of it to him tonight.
“Are you leaving?”
Ryan’s voice stopped her.
Rose turned.
“Yes. You need to rest.”
She deliberately ignored the disappointment in his eyes.
He had always been used to getting what he wanted.
He could survive one night without her.
Ryan lifted a hand slightly, almost as though he wanted to stop her.
But he didn’t.
Rose walked out.
The door closed quietly behind her.
Ryan remained still for several seconds.
Then his expression changed.
The ward suddenly felt unbearably unfamiliar.
The walls.
The equipment.
The faint hum of machines.
The sharp smell of disinfectant.
He remembered none of it.
Yet something about the room made him deeply uncomfortable.
His body seemed to reject it before his mind could explain why.
Then he remembered Rose.
That faint citrus scent.
The warmth of her hand.
The way his entire attention had locked onto her the moment he saw her.
He didn’t know who she was.
He didn’t remember their history.
He didn’t remember their marriage.
But something inside him insisted that she mattered.
A great deal.
His pulse had quickened when she approached.
His breathing had changed when she tried to leave.
And when she was gone, the room suddenly felt emptier than it had before.
Ryan frowned.
He couldn’t explain it.
He only knew one thing.
He wanted her back.
He slowly curled his fingers against the sheets, as though trying to hold on to the warmth that had already disappeared.
*****
Rose returned to her room.
After showering, she sat down at her computer and began reviewing the latest medical literature.
She wasn’t satisfied with the explanations she had been given.
Memory loss after severe neurological illness could have multiple causes.
Postoperative cognitive impairment.
Damage caused by the tumour itself.
Temporary inflammation or disruption of neural networks.
Medication effects.
Psychological factors.
Or some combination of them.
She needed more information before anyone could determine what was actually happening to Ryan.
She lost track of time.
A knock finally came at the door.
Rose glanced at the clock.
It was after ten.
She stood and walked over.
When she opened the door, she froze.
Ryan stood outside.
He was still wearing a hospital gown.
His face was pale, and he looked exhausted.
He had only recently regained consciousness after nearly two weeks in bed. His body was still weak, and his vision remained impaired.
He shouldn’t have been walking around without assistance.
“Ryan?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Then he rested his forehead against her shoulder.
His breathing was uneven.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and hoarse.
“Rose…”
She stiffened.
He wrapped his arms around her waist.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
Rose stood completely still.
It had been too long since they had been this close.
She could feel how much weight he was putting against her.
He was barely steady on his feet.
“How did you even get here?”
Ryan didn’t answer.
“Ryan, you need to let go. You shouldn’t be walking around on your own.”
His arms tightened around her.
Rose exhaled.
“Let go first.”
He was silent.
Then he murmured against her shoulder,
“Are you going to send me back?”
Rose paused.
“…Not tonight.”
“Good.”
He finally loosened his arms.
But he didn’t move very far away.
Rose looked at him carefully.
“You walked all the way here by yourself?”
Ryan gave a small nod.
“Why?”
“I woke up.”
His answer was so simple that Rose almost didn’t know what to say.
“My room was empty.”
He looked at her.
“So I came looking for you.”
Rose stared at him.
His ward was on another floor.
The distance might not have been much for a healthy person, but for someone who had spent twelve days unconscious and was still suffering from significant visual impairment, it was reckless.
She sighed.
“Come inside before you fall over.”
She helped him into the room.
Ryan sat down carefully.
Rose remained standing a few steps away.
“You should be resting.”
Ryan looked at her.
“You’re my wife.”
Rose’s expression tightened.
“So why are we sleeping in separate rooms?”
Rose was speechless.
Ryan looked genuinely confused.
There was no teasing in his expression.
No attempt to flirt.
He simply couldn’t understand why someone he instinctively believed belonged beside him was keeping her distance.
Rose finally sat down across from him.
She deliberately left space between them.
“Don’t call me that.”
Ryan frowned.
“Why?”
“Because we’re divorced.”
The room went silent.
Ryan stared at her.
“Divorced?”
“Yes.”
His brows drew together.
He looked as though he were trying to force his mind to produce something—anything—that would explain the word.
Nothing came.
Rose watched his expression change.
For the first time since waking, he looked genuinely lost.
His throat moved as he swallowed.
“So…”
His voice was quieter now.
“You don’t want me anymore?”