Page 2 of Deliria

But there are other memories, too.

Darker ones.

Ones that don’t make any sense right now.

A chill that has nothing to do with the breeze coming off the sea slides down my spine. I married Alex? I married him?

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet sinking into the plush rug. Only, the room spins for a moment, and I’m forced to close my eyes, waiting for the awful dizziness to pass.

When I open them again, I’m still here, in this strange, beautiful space and if anything, that confuses me more.

“Scarlett?” Alex’s voice calls from the doorway, smooth as honey, but with an underlying steel that tells anyone who’s paying attention that he takes no shit. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”

He enters the room wearing his usual attire of a tailored navy suit and crisp white silk shirt that clings just enough to show his toned body beneath. His dark brown hair is peppered with streaks of grey, but it only emphasises that delicious silver fox aura he has. His skin is tanned, glowing, he looks as ageless as he always has, despite the fact that he’s over forty.

And even now, in this moment when I’m spiralling in confusion and panic, his god-like looks still make me catch my breath, stealing the oxygen from my very lungs. He really is an Adonis. A masterpiece. An ethereal being turned into living, breathing flesh.

The confidence that oozes off him would make him a fortune if he could package it up and sell it. But then, he’s a Forster. He doesn’t need to sell anything. He was born richer than most people could ever dream of being.

There’s a concern in his eyes that doesn’t quite reach his mouth as he watches me.

I remember that look though, the way it can switch from solicitous to something harder in a heartbeat. Though thathardness was never directed at me. At least, it never used to be or did it? I frown more, memories flickering but none of it makes any sense.Where the fuck am I?

“I, I don’t know,” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. “Where are we?”

“Our family home,” he replies, sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough that his knee brushes against mine and I feel that old hit of butterflies at the touch. “Don’t you remember? We brought you here. You’re safe here. Safer than in the city.”

Safer from what?I want to ask, but the words catch in my throat. So instead, I nod, playing the part of the dutiful wife, even as suspicion coils in my stomach like a snake.

He’s lying.

He isn’t safe.

Those thoughts come out of nowhere, and they’re gone almost the moment they form. But I know I have no reason to doubt him. I know Alex is a good man, at least, he’s always been good to me.

He reaches out, tucking a strand of shoulder length hair behind my ear. His touch is gentle, but I flinch nonetheless. He notices, but of course he does, and his hand drops to his side and a flash of sadness shows in his eyes. “You need to rest, Scarlett. The doctors said?— “

“What doctors?” The question bursts from me, sudden and sharp, and so not me at all. I’m not an angry person, not irrational. And yet that’s how I feel. Irrational, out of control, and so horribly confused. “What’s, what’s happening to me, Alex?”

His expression hardens, just for a moment, before returning back to one of concern. “You’ve been ill, my love. It’s why we’re here, so I can take care of you properly. So all my family can be here, and we can look after you away from prying eyes.”

Ill.

The word echoes in my mind like a hollow drumbeat.

Oh, I remember the hospital, the sterile scent of antiseptic, the relentless beep and hum of machines.

But I can’t rememberwhy.

What illness could possibly have caused this? My eyes cast down, seeing the bruises, the pink lines of freshly healed scars. No illness would explain that. I look like I’ve been in a fight with a beast, that something has clawed at me, torn at me. Practically ripped my body to shreds.

Was I ill or is he covering for something, concealing the real truth because he thinks it’s too horrific for me to know?

As I meet his gaze, I get this awful feeling of déjà vu. I’ve been here before. Have had this very conversation before. I don’t know how I know that, but I do.What the fuck is going on right now?

I stand up, practically jumping from the bed, needing distance from him, from the unspoken words that hang in the air between us. The room tilts again, and I frantically reach out, snatching at the bedpost for support so I don’t fall flat on my face.

“Scarlett.” Alex is at my side in an instant, his arm wrapped around my waist, supporting almost my entire weight. “You need to be careful. You’re still recovering.”

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