Chapter 2 #4
“Oh!” she said, startled, but glad to have the opportunity to explore her memory some more.
“I remember I was so excited when my father bought that rocky coastal estate. And finding the story of Alexander, Rebecca, and Callesandra, well…” She trailed off, suddenly thinking of something else.
She noticed everyone looking at her and continued.
“It’s just odd recalling something like this so readily, yet missing such larger, more important facts. Of me. My children.”
“It will come; let’s give it some more time,” Evan said, patting her hand. “Sometimes just carrying on is the best way to let nature take its course. Tell us more.”
“Alexander Montgomery”—she looked at the man to her left—“of old.” She smiled.
“He was an admiral born in the eighteenth century, titled and uber wealthy, who had this awful arranged marriage. Like, I mean really bad. From what I can remember, his wife was a true bitch. But they still had a kid together—a girl named Callesandra.”
Amanda laughed. “I really must have been obsessed,” she said, motioning toward the other end of the table where Callie was sitting.
“Anyway, they had a second child, because I guess that’s what was expected in those days, even if you hated one another.
That one was a boy, but he supposedly died in childbirth, though I think I read somewhere that the wife actually killed the baby just to spite her husband.
Can you believe that? She was like a sociopath or something.
After that, I couldn’t find any mention of the family beyond 1774.
It was as if they’d vanished. And I looked—hard.
Alexander, his wife, and their only living daughter mysteriously were never written about again. ”
The brothers Montgomery both stood at the same time.
“I’m sorry, it’s just a story,” Amanda said apologetically.
“It’s not you, Amanda,” Mr. Montgomery said as everyone started to clear the table.
She looked at Evan, who patted her hand again. “You’re okay,” he assured her. “You’ll be okay.” That was just what she needed to hear. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted.
It wasn’t long before coffee, dessert, and after-dinner drinks were brought out. The mood was light again and Stephen was laughing at something his brother said as he filled sherry glasses with Cockburn’s or Grand Mariner.
When he placed a hand on her shoulder, she looked up and shook her head.
He smiled and gave her an affectionate squeeze.
It struck her then that she and these two brothers were connected in some way.
If not before, then surely now and moving forward.
Maybe that’s what she was feeling; one of those karmic relationships in life, where you meet someone and know you’re somehow connected and meant to be together.
Callie climbed into her lap as large pieces of coconut cake and fresh fruit made their way around the table.
Mr. Montgomery walked to the far end and took Zander and his bottle from Helen’s arms. Even though Amanda couldn’t nurse him since they’d given her a heavy concoction of drugs at the hospital, she thought Mr. Montgomery would bring the baby to her, but he simply sat back in the seat next to her and began feeding Zander himself.
Amanda couldn’t remember a better night. Ever. She kissed Callie’s forehead and shared a smile with Sam.
Then everyone’s phones went off at the same time.
All eyes save hers looked to Mr. Montgomery. “Bloody hell!” He slammed his hand down on top of her phone and then picked up his.
“I’m on it.” Trevor ran from the room, then everyone began speaking at once.
“Inside!” the admiral barked. Stephen was at Amanda’s side not a second later, and before she knew it, he’d escorted her upstairs to her room. Helen helped her get situated on her bed, ignoring all of her questions, then placed Zander and his bottle into her lap.
It wasn’t lost on her that they were trying to distract her. Which mostly worked because Zander was not happy that his feeding had been interrupted, and she was still a bit addled from the post-op drugs. She rolled onto her side and tucked him in closer.
“Shh, shh, baby. It’s okay, Mama’s got you,” she whispered, trying to calm her own racing thoughts.
“You have to show her,” Samantha spat out as she and Stephen stood at the threshold of Amanda’s room.
They’d had time to watch the video in its entirety, and now Sam wanted to murder someone.
That Amanda couldn’t catch a break was killing her.
She could sympathize with Alex and Stephen, of course, and what they had gone through themselves, but they hadn’t been there when Amanda came back—hurt physically, yes, but so very heartbroken too.
Stephen held a finger to his lips, and quietly closed the double doors of Amanda’s suite.
There was no mistaking the uncanny resemblance between the two brothers.
Both were ridiculously good-looking. Stephen, however, was lankier, his features more severe.
He pulled her farther into the hallway, saying only “No,” and, leaving no room for argument.
What Stephen Montgomery failed to realize was that she had a degree—and a prestigious one at that—in anything litigious. She was about to tell him just that, when he spoke again.
“I know you excel in argument,” he said, looking at her straight on. “However, I beg of you, not now.”
Internally, Sam relented. He wasn’t just giving orders. The man was in pain. She could see that. “I can see how much you and your brother care for Amanda—” she started.
“Care for her?” Stephen sounded insulted. “My brother and I love that woman. Our family and the soundness of its members are of paramount importance. In fact, it’s the only thing that matters to us.”
“Your presence here obviously confirms that, Stephen. What I’m trying to tell you is that it’s better that she learns of that video from us.”
Alexander came up the stairs, his mouth a grim line. “Trevor’s working to find the IP address and obliterate wherever it came from.”
But the video had already gone viral. Its creator had titled it “Amanda Marceau—Talented, Beautiful, Wealthy—Crumbles.” It showed the entirety of Amanda’s breakdown.
Holding Zander for the first time. Her joy and sorrow combined as she looked down at the baby.
Her softly whispered, “I’m so sorry. I wish you could see our son. ”
Since she’d been back in the twenty-first century, Amanda had been overcome with guilt that she’d taken Callie from Alexander, and she’d told Sam about it again and again.
It consumed her. No matter how many times Sam had tried to tell her that she hadn’t been given a choice, that there was nothing else Amanda could have done.
Just knowing that Callie was the light of Alexander’s life and that they’d ultimately left him alone was a devastation she’d lived with every day.
And then to have a new baby, a son, fully aware that Alex had lost his first with Rebecca, it must have been too much for her friend.
In the video, Amanda snapped, screaming again and again, the culmination of a long series of misfortunate, dreadful events.
Sam watched herself onscreen trying to console her friend, but Amanda only became more agitated.
Then the video showed Stan muscling into the room, yelling at the doctors and nurses to treat Amanda with care, and seeing him like that took Sam back momentarily to the moment in college when he had appeared in much the same way to support her, to help her.
It wasn’t that the doctors and nurses weren’t treating Amanda well; he was only trying to protect her, and his helplessness showed. Stan liked rules, was a stickler for protocol—cross him, and you’d regret it.
Turning her attention back to the screen, Sam watched as little Zander was forcefully taken from Amanda, before the video ended with her restraint and sedation.
Sam remembered the call she’d gotten from Stan when Amanda had awoken much later.
He’d said she was in a semi-catatonic state, that something was very wrong.
It was then that Dr. Meyers had briefed him on Amanda’s memory loss and its compartmental nature.
She swallowed a breath and looked to Alexander now, who rubbed his forehead, clearly stressed.
“Chris said getting anything off the internet is a beast, but everyone has a price. He’s drawing up paperwork now. Has she seen it?”
“No,” Sam and Stephen answered at the same time.
Then Sam said, “You—no, we—have to tell her, Alex. This won’t keep. Trust me.”
Alexander scrubbed his hands over his face. “Can not one thing go our way?”
“Grow up,” Sam snapped. “No one said life was fair, Al—”
Stephen’s hand shot out and he covered her mouth, pulling her back against him. “That wasn’t necessary,” he told her quietly before dropping his hand.
For a moment, Samantha was taken aback by the sudden physical closeness—she rarely let herself be touched by a man, but she found she actually felt safe enveloped by Stephen.
There was nothing rough or threatening about the way he handled her.
In fact, he was terribly gentle and their closeness felt oddly intimate.
“You’re right,” she conceded. “I’m sorry, Alex. But she really needs to know.”
Alex remained quiet. Stephen, who had yet to let go of her, said, “Don’t do this to her, Samantha. Not yet.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it would be much easier if you two weren’t here.”
Stephen squeezed her shoulders. “Please.”
They all turned as the doors opened. Amanda stood in the threshold. She didn’t even need to say the words that followed: “I’ve watched it.”
Alexander moved toward her, but she stuck out her hand, her eyes vacant. “Stop.”
Then she turned around and closed the doors behind her.