Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
I chewed on my lower lip. “I really need to regain my memories, don’t I?”
“No rush. I’ll wait.” He squeezed the steering yoke tight. “Even if it kills me.”
Chapter Forty-One
Oliver
Romeo Costa: What is it this I’m hearing about Oliver running to Texas to fetch his fake fiancée like he has those pesky things called feelings?
Ollie vB: She has amnesia. She is not fucking okay.
Ollie vB: Neither is your wife, btw, and she doesn’t have a concussion as an excuse.
Zach Sun: Since when are you an altruistic person?
Romeo Costa: Since when is he a PERSON? Are we humanizing him now?
Zach Sun: And what did Farrow mean by you had to “cut work short” to get there? Sexual intercourse is not a job, Oliver. Unless you finally opened that Only Fans page.
Ollie vB: @RomeoCosta, your wife was way out of line, and we are going to exchange words about it.
Romeo Costa: Shaking in my boots over here.
Ollie vB: When you come here for dinner again tomorrow, it is fucking vital that you do not do anything stupid.
Zach Sun: Like what?
Ollie vB: Talk.
Ollie vB: Just breathe and smile.
Zach Sun: She’s starting to get her memory back, I heard. Bad news for you.
Ollie vB: Not so much.
Romeo Costa: Why?
Ollie vB: She’s a vegetarian environmentalist who is riding my ass to oblivion. I think maybe it really was adolescent infatuation that made boy Oliver fall in love with her.
Zach Sun: I call bullshit and a half on this.
Zach Sun: You are still hopelessly in love with this woman.
Romeo Costa: I concur.
Ollie vB: Just behave yourselves tomorrow night, fuckers.
Romeo Costa: We’ll see.
Chapter Forty-Two
Briar
I hid at the lake.
The second we pulled into the driveway, I excused myself, darted onto the deck from the living room, and sprinted to the edge of the water. Trio and Geezer nipped at my heels, whining for attention.
For the first time, Oliver did not try to join me. Guess he, too, felt overwhelmed with this. With us.
I knew I suffered from amnesia, but something bothered me. That natural connection from our youth – like a tide, coming and going, but always constant – no longer existed. Maybe that came with the territory of growing up and discovering ourselves. Maybe love changed with age and became less about filling gaps and more about building something whole. Or maybe love simply changed when it stopped being a need and started becoming a choice.
Still, I couldn’t shake that nagging feeling that I was angry at him.
A kaleidoscope of blues, purples, and pinks bounced off the lake’s reflection. I stumbled my way along the wooden dock. At the end of it, two deck chairs overlooked the blanket of clear water.
For Ollie and Sebastian, I realized.
I inched toward the chairs, hoping and dreading to find Seb there. I wanted to fleece him of answers. To check on his mental wellbeing. On the other hand, I also needed time to sort my thoughts.
Geezer panted, lagging behind. I scooped him into my arms and tucked his skateboard under my armpits. Trio took off without us, lightning fast despite his missing leg. He leaped from chair to chair, answering my question. No Sebastian. No inquisition. No answers.
Made sense. For Seb to go unnoticed, he could only venture out of his wing in the dead of the night to avoid being seen.
Oh, Seb. When was the last time you let the sun kiss your skin?
Once Trio settled onto an Adirondack, I deposited the skateboard against a post and sat on the other chair, plopping Geezer beside me. Gentle waves whispered against the pilings. The wind whistled between the dock and the cliff opposite the lake, drawing goosebumps from my arms.
I unrolled my shirt from my bra, pushed down the sleeves, and hugged my knees to my chest. This lake couldn’t compare to Lake Geneva’s grandeur. Still, I could picture me and Oliver there, making out on the grass by the shore, dangerously close to giving all our neighbors a show.
The second the memory pounded into my skull, I slammed my eyes shut, propping my head against the slatted backrest. A headache brewed like a dark storm gathering on the horizon.
The money. Gone. A pile of dust and lies.
Geezer hobbled onto the dock. Soon, he and Trio ran in circles, barking and playing, oblivious to my struggle.
The walk of shame. Pointed fingers. Vicious whispers. Hot tears.
The memory teased me, licking the edges of my brain before ebbing away, just out of reach.
Rain. Iron gates. Tears. So many tears.
I chased the memories like a marathon without a finish line. Something about them felt monumental. As if, the second they unfolded inside me, my life would change.
“Oh, god.”
The migraine overwhelmed me. I keeled over, barely managing to hang my head over the edge of the dock and vomit the remaining beignets into the welcoming waves. When I emptied my stomach, I flopped onto my back, glaring at the shapely clouds.