“So you think I was just a look alike to someone he lost?” I sipped the drink again, savoring the taste.
Cooper watched me, his lip quirking up in amusement. I probably looked like I was seducing the caramel. I put the cup down.
“Well, did he look familiar to you?”
“No.” I shook my head adamantly.
Sitting up in his chair, Cooper leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “But...?”
But how did I tell him I had no memory past six months ago? That there had been an accident, and the injuries stole my memories? Stole my life, really. It seemed like I didn’t even exist before the moment I woke up in the basement. That the only thing I knew for certain was that I loved Erik and that being here was probably the worst betrayal of my life.
The icy stare of the man’s eyes sent a shiver down my spine, despite the sweet taste of caramel trying to keep it at bay.
“I uh...” Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure how to even start. “Well, six months ago I was in an accident.” Instead of drawing it out, I decided the best thing to do was to rip the band-aid off. “And I have no memories prior to that.”
Cooper’s eyes widened, his mouth slightly parted. I could smell the hint of coffee rolling off his breath.
He uncrossed his legs. Recrossed them and shook his head. The dimple faded, not even a shadow on his cheek now.
“I’m sorry, Lenore.”
“It’s okay, really.” I slowly spun my cup in place. “I mean, I don’t mourn what I can’t remember. Erik took steps to make sure I didn’t dwell on the past.”
“Erik is your husband?”
I opened my mouth, hesitated. But an undeniable urge lingered in my chest. A ball of all the information that had been stored in my heart and my mind, wanting to come out. Wanting to be shared. With no friends and no family, there were many things I wished I could talk to Erik about. But so many questions remained unanswered. So many topics avoided with a passive phrase or quick change of subject. It just suddenly wanted out. Out into the open, out into someone else's ears. Out to someone that wasn’t Erik.
Which only made me feel guilty all over again. I still couldn’t decide if it was because of my isolation, my fear of losing the little freedom I had, or the undeniable attraction I had for Cooper.
This might be my only shot to get answers. Erik didn’t go away for work often. Once every few months, which meant my next time to investigate this, or even talk to another human being about it might not be for a very long time.
I nodded, telling him about Erik’s obsessive need to keep me safe. How he destroyed old photos and wouldn’t exactly tell me what happened in the accident. I told him about staying at home and rarely being allowed out, how if Erik knew that I was sitting at a coffee shop with another man that he’d be furious and probably scared.
I didn’t know about what specifically. Yes, of losing me, but could the accident have been so terrible? I didn’t have any scars from it, just no memories.
And when my word vomit was complete—so was my betrayal.
5
Cooper listened to me with a stoic expression. His only tell was the flutter of an eyelid here or there. An extra crease next to his brow. Subtle giveaways, but I couldn’t tell what they meant. Goosebumps rippled down my arms. The coffee in my belly became tumultuous, like the waves at sea rushing angrily over the ocean’s surface. It rose higher and higher, as if it might threaten to come back up. Still, I twisted the coffee in my hands, kept my fingers in contact with the smooth cardboard.
It all came out. Every bit. From the moment I woke, to the way we had sex, to the way Erik kept me close to him. How even now, if Erik knew, he’d be furious that I had left the house. And how he refused to let me know about my past, even though I desperately wanted to.
The last word fell from my mouth, and my shoulders slumped. I’d never been able to tell anyone any of this. Erik had been the only constant in my life for the last six months. Sure, the people at the grocery store and the tellers and the employees walking the floor were around, but how was I going to explain to a random stranger about the insanity of my life? They’d probably call the police. They’d take me away. Maybe put me in a psychiatric ward, or one of those homes meant to help women and families get back on their feet. And what would happen to Erik? Would they lock him up? Jail or maybe a psych ward himself. My heart ached at the thought.
An odd mix of relief and fear rushed out in the words. Relief that it was out in the open. Fear of what it might mean.
Cooper steepled his hands, pressing the tips of his fingers together. His lips pulled back, and that dimple stuck out of the corner of his cheek. My hands tightened on the cup, pressing the cardboard in, the plastic top popping off from the pressure.
“Am I crazy?”
If nothing else, I needed to break the silence. Get rid of the quiet air between us and replace it with sound. Sound that might have hope. Hope of getting answers. Some sort of answers, whatever they may be. And hope that I hadn’t just made the worst mistake of my life.
Cooper sucked in a breath and let his hands fall to the arm of the chair. “No. I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“Then why am I obsessing over a man who had a case of mistaken identity?”
Obsessing over
