Good For Him

I walked briskly down the sterile hospital corridor, my mind racing as I processed what the nurse had said.

Rowan was awake.

He had survived the surgery, and now I was about to face him for the first time since everything had changed between us.

A part of me was terrified of what I might find when I entered his room. Would he remember the years of hate, of pain, and betrayal between us? Would he remember his cheating? His disregard of me?

Or would he forget all of it, starting with a blank slate?

I gulped, taking in a deep breath.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Rowan lay in the hospital bed, pale but alive, his eyes bright and alert as they met mine. He was smiling at me—a genuine smile, soft and unfamiliar on his usually hardened face.

"Hello," he greeted, his voice raspy but warm.

I felt the breath hitch in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. That smile—it was like a punch to the gut. The Rowan I remembered didn’t smile at me like that. Not in years. The man who had torn my life apart, who had called me names, belittled me, and made me feel worthless—he didn’t exist in that expression. This Rowan... didn’t remember.

"How are you feeling?" I finally asked, my voice steady but distant. I had to keep it professional, clinical.

He shrugged, grimacing slightly at the pain the movement caused. “A bit sore, but considering everything... I think I’m doing pretty well. Thanks to you, I guess.”

His smile broadened, and I felt a flicker of something that might have once been joy. But it was quickly buried by the weight of everything unsaid.

“You’re lucky,” I said softly, moving to check his vitals. “The surgery was complicated. You had severe head trauma, internal bleeding, fractures... But you made it.”

Rowan nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the room, lingering for a second before they came back to me. “I don’t remember much about the accident. Everything is kind of... fuzzy.”

I swallowed, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. “That’s to be expected. You suffered a traumatic brain injury. It’s likely you’ll have gaps in your memory, but as the swelling goes down, things might come back.”

“Might?” he echoed, his brow furrowing slightly.

“It’s too early to tell for sure,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “You’re lucky you don’t remember the worst of it.”

His expression softened. “Yeah... I guess that’s a blessing.”

A blessing. For him, maybe. For me, it was like being pulled into a whirlpool of emotions I wasn’t ready to face. He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember the years of tension, the coldness, the distance. He didn’t remember the nights I cried myself to sleep, or the moment he looked me in the eye and told me I meant nothing to him.

Good for him.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, the door creaked open, and in walked Gigi. She rushed to his side, her soft round face filled with sadness.

“Rowan!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking as she grabbed his hand. “Oh my God, you’re awake. I was so worried.”

Rowan’s face lit up as soon as he saw her, and it was like a dagger to the heart. His smile was wide, familiar, like he had been waiting for her. He knew who she was.

“Gigi,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “I’m alright.”

I stood there, feeling like an outsider in a room that should have been mine.

My hands were cold, my chest tightening as I realized just how much he remembered. He remembered her. The one woman who had been in my shadow, always waiting for her turn. He remembered her and not me.

I cleared my throat, feeling the weight of the room shift. “You should be careful, Mr. Vaughn,” I said, forcing a smile. “You’ve been through a lot. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

He nodded, still smiling at Gigi. “I’ll be fine, Doc. Thanks.”

Doc. That’s all I was to him now. Just his surgeon.

As if on cue, the door opened again, and this time, Mrs. Isolde entered the room. She moved slowly, her eyes filled with tears as she approached the bed.

“Oh, my dear boy,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Grandmother,” Rowan greeted her with a smile, reaching out to take her hand. “I’m okay, I promise.”

Mrs. Isolde looked at me, her eyes grateful and filled with unspoken words. “Thank you, Remi. Thank you for saving him.”

I gave her a small nod, unable to muster much more. The truth was, I didn’t know how to feel. I had saved his life, yes, but in doing so, I had brought back a man who didn’t even remember the hell he had put me through.

I turned back to Rowan, my professional mask slipping just for a moment. “Rowan, do you remember... anything about before the accident?”

He frowned slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to recall something. “Bits and pieces,” he said slowly. “I remember Gigi, my grandmother... my mother, I think. But everything else is kind of... blank. Why?”

My heart sank. He didn’t remember. Not the pain he caused me, not the toxic marriage, not the nights I spent alone, hoping for a kindness that never came.

“Just checking,” I said, my voice soft, trying to keep the bitterness out. “You’re lucky you don’t remember.”

“Lucky?” Rowan’s brow furrowed, confused by the edge in my voice.

I forced another smile, stepping back. “Yes, lucky.”

Gigi turned to look at me, her emerald eyes cold filled with sudden hatred. “He’s alive, Remi. Isn’t that all that matters?”

I clenched my jaw, keeping my eyes on Rowan, who was looking at me with an expression I hadn’t seen in years.

And maybe that was for the best. Maybe this was my chance to move on, to finally let go of the past. He had forgotten the pain, but I hadn’t.

“Of course, that’s what matters,” I said finally, my voice sounding far away, even to my own ears. “Take care of him, Gigi.”

She nodded, her hand still wrapped around his. “I will.”

I walked toward the door, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me, suffocating me. The man who had been the center of my world for so long now looked at me like a stranger. And in that moment, I realized he was.

Before I could leave, Rowan called out, “Remi?”

I froze, my hand on the door. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. Instead, I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re welcome.”

I walked out of the room, leaving behind the man who had forgotten me. The man who had no memory of the pain he caused. Good for him.