Forget Us Not Page 8

  “I can’t think about you with someone else.” He swallows hard. “I don’t want you to make that call because right now…this is us. This is what we should be. Please. Just wait a few days. Give us a little more time.”

  I nod and lean forward. He cups the back of my head and draws me in for a kiss that is full of desperation and need. Sam isn’t gentle in crushing my lips with his, or in hauling me against him—not that I’m protesting…at all.

  When he leans his forehead against mine, we’re both panting and hanging on as though this might be the last time we share a kiss or hold each other. I pray to God that I’m not the person who would hurt him by cheating. But why else would I leave him? And more than that, why, when I have him—someone who seems to love me more than anything—would I even look at someone else?

  There are so many questions I can’t answer, so many truths I don’t want to face. It’s easier to play-act as if everything is not about to go sideways for us. I’ll give him his couple of days because he needs them, but more because I’m as scared as he is of what Leila knows.

  CHAPTER 20

  SAM

  Now that I’ve said the words and brought the idea forward, I can’t escape it. Who wouldn’t fall for her? She’s beautiful and smart, talented and witty. That’s not even the half of it. She has a body that would make a monk reconsider his lifestyle choices.

  I know we need to find out what was going on, but I can’t face it yet. Whatever the news, it made her want to leave me, and I’m not willing to take the chance she’ll do it again.

  As desperate as I am to keep her, I’m equally scared. My arms are wrapped around the only woman I’ve ever loved, and I can’t control the direction of my thoughts—Kenzie with another man, his hands touching her in ways I haven’t been allowed in months, her voice crying out a name that isn’t mine. No. Just no.

  I’m lost in the images spinning in my mind. My skin is too tight and my lungs burn with the need to gulp air that’s suddenly been sucked out of the room. I have to know, or I’ll never have another moment’s peace.

  I slip out of bed, take her phone, and tiptoe downstairs like the sneaky bastard I am.

  Leila owes me nothing, but I stand on the front porch and dial her number anyway, ignoring the clock that says it’s too late for a personable chat.

  “Oh my God, Kenzie. I’ve been so worried, but your mom said—”

  Because I’m wary of where that sentence is going, I break in before she can finish. “Leila, it’s Sam.”

  “Oh.” I pretend not to hear the disappointment that takes her voice an octave lower. “What’s up, Sam? How is Kenzie?”

  “She’s okay. She doesn’t remember a whole lot.” It’s my chickenshit way of opening the door to a subject I should probably slam shut.

  “That’s probably a good thing.”

  I don’t know if she means to say it or if she’s baiting me, but either way, I’m biting. “How so?”

  She sighs, and I wonder if all men feel dumb hearing a woman make that sound in that particular tone or if it’s just me. “Sam, it isn’t my story to tell.”

  I already know there’s something going on. Still, my heart breaks a little more at the implication behind her words. There’s a story. And I’m desperate enough to plead my case. If that doesn’t work, I’ll beg. “You’re the only one who can right now, Leila. She doesn’t remember.”

  “Maybe there’s a reason for that. I don’t know what you believe in, but right now, some higher power is giving you a chance with her you didn’t have two weeks ago. This is your time to show her that nothing matters but her, that nothing can come between you.”

  Yeah. This is the stuff I already know. Need burns in my gut. “And what happens later on when she remembers she was leaving me and all those reasons are back? I can’t fight what I don’t know.” The pain chokes me as the reality of my words sink in, and a sob bubbles up in my throat. I swallow it back. “Just tell me if there’s someone else. Please, Leila.” I’m pathetic enough to beg.

  She scoffs. She actually scoffs at me. “Why is that the first place guys go? She doesn’t want you so, of course, there must be someone else.”

  I’m one word from falling to pieces. Instead, I sink into the cushion on the porch swing. “So, she doesn’t want me anymore?” It’s a whisper that screams in my head.

  “Goddammit, Sam. You’re all she wanted from the first minute she laid eyes on you. All she wants is to make you happy.”

  I forgive Leila because she didn’t live in our house those six months before the accident. The last thing Kenzie seemed to care about was my happiness.

  “Honestly. Do you have any idea how many times she told me she can’t live without you? Doesn’t ever want to lose you? She was turning herself inside out for you.”

  Leila glosses over some important facts, and it doesn’t help me to have to point them out. “She was leaving me.”

  “Well, maybe it wasn’t about you.”

  “How could it not be about me? She packed her shit, put it in the car, and drove away. From me.” I need answers and if facing the cold hard truth is the only way to get them, then so be it.

  “The whole world does not revolve solely around you. She wanted it to, but some things were just about her. Sometimes, she wanted things for herself.”

  Things? And we’re back to the hundred thousand ways I’ve let her down. “Please, tell me what she wants. I can’t lose her again.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Well, this has done absolutely nothing to help the situation. I know less now than I did when I dialed Leila’s number. “Easy for you to say.”

  “Sam, I wish I had the magic words to fix everything for you and Kenzie. I want her to be happy, too. Only you have the power to fix this. I can’t tell you any more than that.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Either way.” I can almost hear her signature one-shoulder shrug. “If you want her, fight for her.”

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be fighting.” And that’s the bitch of it all. I would slay dragons or go head-to-head with supervillains, and I would do it armed with nothing more than my bare hands for her. But how can I fight what I don’t know?

  “Sure you do. Think about it. It’ll come to you. Eventually.” In the background, I hear the tinny voice of a child—her daughter. “I have to go. Tell Kenzie I’m thinking of her, and I’ll be by as soon as we’re back from vacation.”

  “Vacation?” Single mom with a dead-end waitressing job. How does she afford a holiday trip?

  “Well, not exactly. My dad broke his hip and someone has to care for the farm.” She chuckles, but the sound lacks humor. “Why did you think I haven’t been there?”

  To be honest, it never occurred to me to wonder. I was too busy enjoying uninterrupted time with my wife. “I guess I didn’t give it much thought.”

  She clucks her tongue. “Can I give you a little tip, Sam?” Without waiting for my reply, she continues. “Pay attention to the things that matter to her. Chances are, you’ll find your answers there.”

  Just what I need—help buried beneath the answer to a riddle I might not have time to figure out. “Or you could just tell me.”

  “No. I can’t. Look, take care of your wife. Maybe she’ll never remember, and you can build a new life. Either way, show her you won’t let anything tear you apart, that nothing is more important than her. Or maybe she remembers and you get the chance to make the wrongs all right.” She pauses and I have a minute to let it all sink in. Not that much of her speech makes sense. “Listen, Sam, this is your game to lose. I wouldn’t spend my time swinging at pitches outside the strike zone.”

  First a riddle, now a baseball metaphor? This conversation has outlasted its usefulness. “Yeah. Thanks, Leila.”

  “I really am trying to help, but I can’t betray her any more than you can.” She sighs again. “Just trust me. All you have to do is pay attention to her now and to all the things she said befor
e. I really have to go, but keep me posted, okay?”

  “Yeah.” I hang up fuming, glaring at the phone. How the hell am I supposed to make sense of one damned word she said?

  CHAPTER 21

  MAKENZIE

  When I wake, he’s beside me, looking at me, and I wonder what he’s seeing. Is it the me who’s so enchanted by him I can hardly stand to be more than a few inches from him? Or the me who treated him so badly and almost died trying to leave him?

  “Good morning.” His voice is silk.

  “Hi.” I could happily do nothing for the next two hundred years but stare at the masculine perfection that is my husband. His hair is adorably mussed, and his eyes are the same glittery blue of a summer sky. I can’t make sense of leaving him. Even if he resembled Shrek more than Adonis, it wouldn’t be math I could compute.

  “I love those seconds right before you’re completely awake when your eyelids flutter against your cheeks, and you get the littlest hint of a smile. I’d stay up all night not to miss that.”

  Oh, and did I mention he says stuff like that? It makes me really question my own sanity. Certainly a woman in her right mind wouldn’t walk away from someone like him.

  I can’t run my fingers through his hair because of the cast even though I’m tingling to feel the smooth curls, so I bite my bottom lip in frustration. I’m aching to show him that no matter what happened before the accident, now I’m committed to keeping him, to capturing the feelings behind this moment and playing them on repeat every hour of every day.

  “You’re one dreamy guy, Sam Camden.”

  He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I want nothing more than to fix whatever went wrong while I slept, but I don’t know how. I’m scared I’m going to lose him before I ever have him back.

  “I think there are things we both need to say, and I don’t think we’ll be able to stop dancing around each other until we say them.”

  After a few seconds, he sits up beside me, kisses my knuckles and sets my hand on my stomach. “I called Leila.”

  I snap my jaw shut and frown. “I thought we decided—”

  “I know.” He runs his fingers through his hair, and I watch, captivated, as it falls back into disarray one strand at a time. I can’t think about what he knows now. I can’t face it yet. “It was wrong, but…” He smooths a finger down my cheek. “I’m scared, Kenz. I don’t want to lose you again.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Sam.” I don’t have the words to make it clearer.

  “Or until you remember all the reasons you wanted to leave.” His whisper is a stab of pain. “Until the newness wears off and you look around and see all the things you don’t have—the things…I can’t give you.”

  He turns away, and I cup his cheek to force his gaze to meet mine. “I don’t know what happened between us, but if this is the person you really are, and you’re not hiding a serial killer tendency, it won’t matter what I remember. But I need you to believe in that, to believe in us.” A tear slips down my cheek, and he brushes it away with the pad of his thumb.

  “I’m trying, Kenzie.”

  His words say one thing, but his eyes disagree. Sam is waiting for the minute I remember…for us to fall apart. Might as well face it now. “What did Leila say?”

  “That it isn’t her story to tell.” From the dryness in his tone, he’s bitter she wouldn’t say more.

  At least she’s loyal to our friendship. That’s something, I guess. “Maybe she’ll tell me.” The question is…do I want to know?

  He nods. “Maybe.”

  I cover his hand with mine. “Nothing’s going to change how I feel about you.”

  CHAPTER 22

  SAM

  I’ve seen that look before—slight frown, dark eyes. It’s disappointment, and I’d recognize it in the dark from across a crowded room. I’ve certainly seen it enough.

  Makenzie wants my trust, my faith in us. And I’m trying, but I’ve been burnt before by that flame.

  “Would you rather I not know?”

  How can I tell her yes? I want to know, but I’d rather her memories and our future not be influenced by any outside force—well, except me, anyway.

  She’s waiting for an answer, and I can’t give her the one she wants, the one that says we can weather any relationship storm Leila throws at us.

  My silence is enough for her to withdraw her touch, harden her features. “Sam, if you aren’t even going to try to trust in us, we might as well give up now.”

  There’s the Kenzie I know. The shut down and run away from the hard times girl from before the accident. “I don’t have the luxury of not remembering you telling me you don’t love me anymore.” The words come out harsher than I intend, and she flinches.

  She scoots to the side of the bed away from me and stands. “That was shitty, Sam. Really shitty.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me. I’m already sorry, making my way around the bed to beg her forgiveness. I want to kick myself, but fear is driving this emotional roller coaster. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  She snatches her phone off the table. “I’m calling Leila, and I’d like to do it alone.”

  I’ve been dismissed. “Before I go, Kenz, just know that I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. And the only thing in my life that scares me is losing you.”

  I hope it’s enough, even though I know it probably isn’t.

  While she’s on the phone, I’m downstairs pacing, trying not to imagine the worst. I go from that to trying to recall every single conversation we’ve ever had, but nothing strikes me as the big revelation Leila claimed I would have if I just thought about it. Nothing stands out.

  I’m so tempted to set up camp outside the closed bedroom door, to eavesdrop on what is probably the most important conversation in my marriage. But I don’t. I continue pacing instead, casting glance after wasted glance at the top of the steps waiting for some sign we’re okay…or maybe even that we aren’t. Knowing would be better than not knowing, than being wrapped inside my own mind with all the possibilities playing out in my imagination.

  I almost elect to ignore the ringing doorbell, but I answer because what else have I got to do? Veronica is half-smiling on the other side of the door. “I’m here to take Kenzie to therapy.”

  Yeah. I forgot. I step back and point behind me. “She’s upstairs.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  I want to scream that nothing will ever be okay again, but I don’t want to give Veronica that particular satisfaction. I nod and pretend I’m not shaking with the thought of losing my wife again. “Yeah. She’s just on the phone.”

  I check the clock. It’s been more than an hour. I’m not sure what that means, but my stomach aches as I consider the worst possible outcome of such a lengthy chat.

  “Sam, can we talk for a moment?” With an outstretched arm, Veronica welcomes me to a seat on my own sofa. “I need to apologize to you.”

  I lean back and stare at her until I realize I should say something, but these aren’t words a man hears from his mother-in-law every day. She’s apologizing. To me. “Veronica, you don’t—”

  “Oh, but I do.” She smooths her hair and folds her hands. This woman has amazing posture. Her back is ruler-straight. “I didn’t give you a fair chance with Makenzie, and I almost lost her because of it. I was wrong…about you. I judged you for something you couldn’t possibly be held accountable for and probably suffered too.”

  Ah. The sins of my mother. My once happy family fell apart when my mom left Dad for John Ramsey. Years of watching Dad’s torment eat at him only to be swallowed by long nights of drinking at the bar, the rumors following Ramsey’s wife’s suicide—I’d suffered through it all until she died.

  “I’m hoping you can forgive me enough that we can start over—for Makenzie’s sake.” She smiles softly. “And mine.”

  I don’t have the heart to tell her she’s likely apologized for nothing, so I nod.

  After a moment of starin
g at me, she slips her palm against my cheek. “I know what she sees in you, Sam. You’re a good man. You remind me a little of my husband when he was twenty years younger.”

  Heat makes its way from my neck to my cheeks. What am I supposed to say to that? “Thank you.”

  “I guess I’ll go tell her I’m here.”

  We’d arranged this meeting when I stopped to pick up Kenzie’s phone. It feels like months ago. “Would you mind telling her I went to work, and I’ll pick her up at your place tonight?” I don’t add the if she wants me to, but it’s right there begging to be spoken.

  With a tilt of her head and a cocked eyebrow, she agrees and turns to the stairs without asking the questions only Makenzie can answer.

  CHAPTER 23

  MAKENZIE

  Not knowing was better. A hundred—no, a thousand—times better. I can’t catch my breath from one sob to the next, and the tears just keep coming.

  Turns out, I’m not a cheater. I’m worse. I’m a liar. And now that I know what I know…I understand why I was leaving Sam.

  The door swings open, and I twist away, hoping he hasn’t seen the mess that is my face. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

  “Mom?” Oh God. I’m not sure whether to be relieved that I don’t have to face Sam just yet or distraught that my mother will use this to reinforce her opinion of my marriage.

  She wraps me in an awkward hug. It isn’t something she’s done often in our relationship, and she isn’t very good at it, but right now, it’s just what I need.

  “What’s wrong, Kenz?”

  The words pour out of me in broken sentences on raspy breaths.

  By the time I finish, Mom is crying, too. We’re sitting on my mega-sized bed bawling and patting each other’s back. “Honey, you need to tell Sam.”

  “No. I can’t. Not after the way I acted.” I can’t blame her for not understanding, nor can I find the words to make my reasons clear.