Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“Yes. He was in the coffee shop that day before the mugging. We actually talked while waiting for our orders.” I leave out the part about being rude to him even though this aligns with who I used to be. I don’t want that associated with my relationship with him. I want her to know him like I do. “He saved me, Allison.”
“Saved you?” A bated breath is held and then she reaches over to take my hand. “How?”
I let my thoughts return to the many moments I spent with him—seeing Loch standing there at the shelter after I thought I had no other option but to go in. The anger that surged in his eyes when the hotel manager thought I was a call girl . . . the heat that man brings to every one of our sexual encounters. I fan myself, but that doesn’t help, so I press my hands to my cheeks, remembering when he tossed me on the bed and then climbed over me, kissing me, bending me over the desk, loving me . . . the words “I love you” falling from his lips as if he’d wanted to say them all along.
I swallow my memories, wanting to hold on to them for as long as I can. “He didn’t just give me a place to heal. He truly healed me and my heart, and showed me what real love is.”
Squeezing my hand, she says, “I think that’s the dreamiest thing I’ve ever heard.” Her eyes are brighter, the joy she feels shining through. The happiness is for me . . . something only a true friend would feel. “Is that where you’ve been? You’ve been with him all this time?”
“Since the moment I left the hospital.”
She leans forward and steals a piece of pepperoni from a slice of pizza on her plate that was abandoned a while ago. “Where is he now?”
“He drove me to Rhode Island because I needed to do this alone. But he’ll wait as long as it takes me to figure out this part of my life.”
“So basically, you’re saying he’s the perfect man?” She opens the photo album. “Ignore me.” She waves me off. “I’ll just be here all jealous.”
I giggle. “Not to brag, but to totally brag, he’s pretty damn perfect.”
“Wow, I never thought I’d see you so happy.” Bursting out laughing, she adds, “You must have really hit your head.”
I join in the joy. She was so unexpected, but it’s amazing to have found an ally in her. “I guess it finally knocked some sense into me.”
She shifts closer to look at the album, but then her gaze rises to mine. “I could see it the second I saw you again. You carry yourself differently. You even sound different. You’re still my best friend, just different. It’s your aura, the glow you have shining from the inside. You’re not the same girl who got Blake sent to military school.”
“Stop it,” I say, tapping her with my hand.
“No, for real. He deserved it.” Her grin vanishes. “One thing, though. If I noticed how different you are, Carter did too. Be careful, okay?”
35
Tuesday
“This is your family’s château,” Allison says, pointing at the first photo in the album.
A white stone structure with a dark-tiled roof sits at the crown of a hill keeping watch over acres of groves. History but with such French elegance in the details. “Wow, it’s beautiful.”
“It really is.”
Thinking about the sweet things in the room upstairs—my life in trinkets and fashion—but nothing in that bedroom or down here, for that matter, inspired memories. “I have a wild idea.”
“Oohh, I love when you get those.”
Guess I’ve had a few in my lifetime. “You said this is my happy place.”
“It is. That’s why you wanted to get married there.”
Setting my glass on the table, I say, “We should go.”
“We should totally go to France.” I love her and how she’s up for anything.
I look around the room, realizing this house hasn’t done what I hoped it would. “I think that could be my best shot of getting my memory back.”
She leans over and hugs me. “Let’s do it.” I hug her because it feels good to spend time with my friend. She makes me feel less alone. Popping to her feet, she says, “No time like the present. Let’s pack.”
We run upstairs, vowing to be ready for a flight first thing in the morning. But in the excitement of the moment, I only have one thing on my mind—texting Loch: I’m going to France.
My phone rings immediately. “Hello?” I answer, grinning ear to ear.
“France wasn’t the agreement, Tuesday. Rhode Island was.” Why must he sound so sexy when he’s being overprotective?
“I have to go, Loch. This may be my last chance to get my memories back. It’s all I have left.” I walk into my massive closet, thinking this might be my actual happy place by its impressive size.