Page 12 of Lust & Lies
A small garden sat just beyond the windows, allowing the scent of lavender and mint to drift into the room.
“There’s already a garden,” I pointed out.
“We have a gardener who keeps it up. You love the smell of lavender, and you always add mint to your coffee and tea. So he keeps this garden going just for you. We’ll start on the vegetable garden once you feel up to it.”
I wanted to walk out into the garden, but I also wanted to take in more of the room. I chose the room. I turned in a circle, trying to absorb it all. Bookshelves lined the walls. And though the shelves weren’t full of books yet, someone, maybe me, had already started putting books on the shelves.
In the corner of the room were two big boxes with the wordsNoe’s Bookswritten on them.My books!If I smiled any harder, my jaw would start aching. The room was adorable and not flashy or showy.
Forest green couches and beige ottomans decorated the space. The couches looked comfy, deep enough to sink into and curl up with a good book. And apparently, I loved pillows because there were a lot of them.
A couple had hearts on them, along with my initials and Aiden’s. I guess I was also a fan of monogramming. My gaze moved back to the bookshelves. And that’s when I saw them. The photos.
There were so many of them. How had I not noticed them before? A few were on the shelves, some hanging on the walls, and a couple were framed and seated on the side tables. They were pictures of me and Aiden.
Pictures of us laughing, walking, kissing. I stepped closer to one of the shelves and reached for a photo that was inside a silver frame with flowers etched into it. Our wedding photo.
I was in a beautiful white dress that looked like something out of a fairy tale. I rubbed my finger over my face. I looked so pretty. My gaze moved to Aiden. There was no denying it, this man was attractive as hell in his tux.
His arms were around me, and while I was beaming at the camera, he was staring down at me. Had the cameraman told him to do that, or had he been unable to tear his eyes away from his beautiful bride? We looked happy in this photo, like we belonged to each other.
“You were a beautiful bride,” Aiden said from behind me.
I blinked back tears and set the photo down. Yet, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from it, away from him, and the way he was staring at me in the picture.
“A wedding day is a girl’s most important day. Yet, I don’t remember this.”
“You will,” he promised, sounding more confident than I felt.
“I hope so,” I whispered, wanting to remember the life we shared, wanting to remember the man who smiled down at me with so much love in his eyes.
He stepped closer and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers paused, hovering close before he lowered his hand.
“Sorry,” he apologized.
There he goes, apologizing again.
I turned to face him and gasped. He was right there. Closer than I expected. I almost took a step back. My body pulled at me to move, to put some distance between us. But I remained rooted in place. His eyes searched mine. Watching me. Waiting to see what I’d do.
I know he expected a certain reaction from me. He expected me to recoil, which was why he’d apologized in the first place. I wasn’t going to recoil this time. My gaze dropped to his mouth, lingering there a second longer than necessary.
I just couldn’t get that kiss out of my head. Cheeks heating, I returned my gaze to his. He hadn’t moved. Yet, something had changed. It was his eyes that gave him away. There was desire in them. Controlled, restrained, but there.
He was holding back. For me. He was a husband who wanted to touch his wife. Who wanted to hug his wife. Who wanted to be hugged and loved by his wife. But his wife didn’t remember him.
And he was constantly having to apologize for doing the things he was used to doing because those things made his wife uncomfortable.Poor Aiden. I was the one who’d gotten into an accident and lost my memory.
But he’d lost the wife he’d once known. And because he was my husband, he was forced to take care of me, forced to watchme recoil, step away, avoid him. Yeah, I was struggling. But so was he.
“You don’t have to keep apologizing for touching me,” I told him. “You’re not doing anything wrong. It’s me. I’m the one who has to get used to being around you again. Being close to you.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Honestly, none of this feels comfortable to me. I can’t even get comfortable in my own skin right now, let alone around someone else. But the only way that changes is if I let you in. The only way I can become more comfortable being with you is by being with you. So, stop apologizing for touching me. I...” I swallowed, unable to believe I was about to say this. “I trust you to be patient with me.”
“You trust me?” he asked, eyes widening.
I nodded. No hesitation this time. Trust was earned. And so far, he’d done nothing to hurt me. He’d only been kind and protective. I was the one second-guessing everything he did. Turning his kindness into suspicion.
