Page 43 of Fire Island
He turns back. “Yep.”
Okay, great. I uncover the plate. A chicken pasta dish with my tomatoes sits on the plate. So similar to the last meal we had here together. Like somehow, subconsciously, this man knows every small part of us, every moment we shared is still in there somewhere. And...
I have no idea how to unlock the prison it is held in. No way to pry open the steel bars on the trap his mind has erected around the memories housing everything Evie and Cal. The last nine months.
No idea how to give him back the three years he lost.
I eat as much as I can as he works in the kitchen with his back to me.
Having eaten almost all of it, I set the cutlery down and rise, taking my plate to the sink. I scrape the remnants of the meal into the bucket by the sink he uses for compost and slide the plate, knife, and fork into the soapy water as he cleans a glass. My hand brushes his, and the plate falls from my fingers.
He stills. His hand closes around mine, lifting it to the running water automatically. Just like the times I burned myself trying to cook.
I stare at him, praying just one memory gets through.
When he drops my hand and shakes his head, I know nothing made it through.
Blue eyes find me. “Sorry, I?—”
“Callum, it’s okay.”
He turns to look at me. His face is a tangle of pain and confusion. “No, I?—”
“Really, it’s fine. It’s . . .”
He pulls away, and his composure changes instantly, his jaw setting as his face hardens to stone. “Turn the lights out when you leave.”
Just like that, Grumpy McCreary is back.
I huff a small laugh as he ascends the stairs. He disappears, and I can’t help the hysterics that have me doubling over. Tears leak out of my eyes with every new bout of laughter. This version of Cal I love.
Oh god, and I do.
If I had my way, I would walk up those damn stairs and wrecking-ball my way into that head of his. Take back what we were and drag him kicking and screaming—most likely growling—with me.
I finish the washing up, tidy a little, and turn out the lights before I leave. Just like McGrump asked me to. I smile as I pullthe door to the house shut behind me. The moon is up and huge in all her glory tonight, and I take my time wandering home, diverting out onto the grassy spans between the lighthouse and the forest.
I haul in long, deep, calming breaths. They stretch my lungs like happiness.
I tilt my face to the beaming queen overhead. Her light soaks into my skin and I sigh. The light in the bedroom is on upstairs, and I imagine Cal is getting ready for bed. Showering...
Without me.
Good lord, I have it bad.
Slipping into that cozy bed of his. Like he did during the cold snap when we were both freezing. The fright I got waking up next to a very naked, very perfect Cal. I still feel the thrill in my bones even now as the memory takes.
Writing in his journal. The one I tossed at his feet the day he kissed me.
That was our catalyst. That very moment.
A small cluster of seconds that changed my life.
Completely.
Entirely.
Relaxed and getting sleepier by the minute, I walk back to the shack and change. When my head hits the pillow, I smile, thinking of all the moments Cal is going to find when his memory returns. The joy I will witness as he discovers the depth, the intensity of what we had.
