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<sup><sub> *[Source](https://unsplash.com/s/photos/coffee-plant) and designed with Canva* </sup></sup>

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*"Wait! What's happening? Why are we slowing down?"*

*"Can't you see the box by the side of the road?"*

*"Oh no. Turn back, Todd! It's an IED….."*

Jace sat up straight from his bed. It was the recurring nightmare again. The neck and chest area of his white cotton shirt were soaked with sweat. He grunted in pain, wiped his brow with the back of his hand, and frowned at his right leg in a cast. 

Since the explosion on his way to the deployment camp, he had not been himself. Mostly because he couldn't remember his life from before the explosion. It was like a death sentence when the doctor explained things to him.

"Mr. Palmer, your amnesia is temporary. You need to concentrate on recovery and therapy. In no time, your memories will come back at once or bit by bit."

"This is frustrating, doc."

"I understand. Stick to your usual routine. It will help," the doctor said, bringing Jace's checkup to an end.

He refused to return home to Cape Florida. He was afraid of what he would find there. Did he have a family? Were they loving? So he stayed in Georgetown, DC to be close to the hospital to speed up his recovery. 

Leaning on his walking cane, he fetched some water from the kitchen as he did every morning, went to the small garden at the back of his apartment, and watered his coffee plant. He'd been taking care of the plant for more than two months and thought the beans should have sprouted.

He sighed and sat on a concrete mound beside the plant. The nurses found some coffee seeds in a brown bag hidden in his inside breast pocket. It was a miracle that it survived the explosion when everything else was burnt. 

Jace planted the seeds immediately after he was discharged from the hospital. They must mean something special for him to have hidden them in his chest pocket. But he couldn't remember a thing. 

Every morning he would water the coffee plant, sit and talk to it. It was like the plant could hear him. The leaves would gently tilt towards him and when he touched them, they would curl around his wrists. It was strange but soothing and therapeutic. 

There were days when he was moody and depressed, a sign of PTSD according to his doctor. He would stay indoors and not visit his coffee plant. When he checked it days later, the leaves would have shrunk and the tips pale.

So he spent time with his plant every morning and the leaves became green again. He felt a sort of attachment to the plant. It was like it was saying, *"I am yours. Remember me …."*

Jace froze in his thoughts for a moment as a flash of a scene shot straight into his mind. A young lady, likely in her early twenties, standing beside a coffee machine, smiled as she passed him a latte with croissant. Her beautiful, olive-toned face dotted with small freckles, eyes the colour of warm coffee, high cheekbones, and luscious lips were suddenly familiar.

Emma Collins, his fiancée.

Then another scene popped into his mind. He was packing his bags for his redeployment when she rushed into the apartment with a brown bag containing the coffee seeds she'd bought from the local greenhouse close to her coffee shop.

"This is for you. I know you'll miss my coffee but not as much as I will miss you. Plant the seeds. Let it be your companion so you won't forget me," she said with tears in her eyes. He tried to wipe them away, wondering why on earth he would forget the woman he was in love with. But she shook her head, making her auburn curls bounce around her face as she fell into his arms. 

"I'll wait for you, Jace. Remember that." Emma's last words to him on the day of the explosion echoed loudly in his head. 

His memory was back fully. He slowly retrieved his hand from the leaves and hopped inside the house. He dialled her number at the coffee shop. After ringing for a while, someone picked up.

"Emma's Coffee Place, how may we help you?"

It was Emma. Jace was tongue-tied.

"Hello?"

"Emma? It's Jace," he said quietly. There was silence on the other end for a moment before the sound of sobbing reached his ears.

Emma closed up her shop that very moment and took the next flight to DC to meet her love, Jace Palmer.


<sup> *[STB Creative Contest #19 Link](https://peakd.com/hive-152524/@cinnccf/stb-creative-writing-prompt-19)* </sup>

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