I feel flustered but push nevertheless. “So?”
“I didn’t need any magic because I know Stella,” Lady Portia explains, much to my and Raffy’s surprise.
“You mean…” My eyes widen. “What?”
“Stella is an old friend and a full-fledged witch. She is an incredibly kind person. She still drives the Cadillac, so you should be able to track her down fast.” She pauses. “Raffy, there is a spell on you. She was the one who enchanted you to lose your memory.”
“Why would she do that?” I mutter. “If she is kind, why would she lock his memory?”
“Because he asked her to,” Lady Portia explains. “Raffy, you wanted your memory to be lost.” She pauses. “The thing is, memory spells are tricky. In a way, they work like actual amnesia.”
“I don’t understand,” Raffy admits.
“But I do,” I mutter. “It means your memories are just buried inside your mind. They’re still here, and your dreams are the way your subconscious helps you remember.”
“Your… Dave is right. You’re not ready to remember,” Lady Portia agrees. “You’re blocking your own memories at this point. Your guilt is. Once you accept this and feel truly ready to accept the past, then you will remember.”
Raffy looks both sad and nervous. “And what if my memories just prove that I was a horrible person? That I hurt this poor girl in my dreams beyond repair?”
“You never know,” Lady Portia says thoughtfully. “But is it really worth it to live a life without a memory? Without an identity? Your past is part of you… even if you did wrong or if you hurt someone, they were your actions and feelings… it’s what shaped you and what turned you into the person you are now. It’s impossible to toss your past aside because a part of you will always be missing.” She pauses. “It’s not fair. Not to you, not to the girl in your dreams, and not to Dave.”
Raffy stares at her, shocked, while I wonder why the heck it’s unfair to me. Raffy, however, seems to understand. “Maybe you’re right,” he admits.
“Good.” Lady Portia stands up and straightens her dress. “And now, go and have some fun. The night is still young, and so are you.”
“Shouldn’t we head out there to find Stella ASAP,” I muse.
Lady Portia smiles at me. “I promise you, she’ll wait for you to find her.”
Raffy and I exchange a short gaze. I wonder how Lady Portia can be so sure about that, but she does sound sincere now. “I guess we can still have a drink or two here,” I point out. “And maybe dance.”
I can’t believe that I just suggested dancing with him. I’m so stupid for allowing myself to get carried away like this. Raffy is just playing his part here, and he wants to recover his memory. I don’t mean a thing to him.
“We can dance,” Raffy says, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
“And I bet he wants to check out that playroom with you too,” Lady Portia snickers and winks at us.
Raffy mutters something inaudible while I try my hardest not to blush.
Chapter twenty-six
Not My Type
*DAVE*
Ican’tbelievehowmuch Raffy indulges me tonight. Once we leave Lady Portia’s office, we make it back to the club, and soon Clarissa provides us with an infinite amount of cocktails, saying they were on the house because Lady Portia seems to have taken a liking to us.
I giggle when Raffy sips on his Pink Lady.
“What?”
“It’s just funny.” I grin. “You’re such a bulky, huge dude, yet you love these pink and sugary cocktails.”
“Oh.” He leans back, eyeing me teasingly. “I didn’t know cocktails had a gender.”
“They don’t.” I smirk. “Still funny.”
“Lady Portia is right. Part of me wishes I could whip you,” he mutters, raising one of his dark eyebrows. “Maybe I should start writing a journal.”