Chapter 22
SADIE
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” My mom holds my shoulders, staring into my eyes. Her wild gaze conveys her concerns, and it’s obvious she wants me to blink twice as a signal I’m being held against my will by my captor. The captor in question: Nash Carter.
No one was more surprised than me when I decided to stay with Nash tonight in our apartment and agreed to let him come to my parents’ house for Christmas. Well, no one other than my mother. Lynette Bradley’s jaw fell to the unsanitary hospital floor when I announced the plan. I lifted my chin, showing more confidence in my decision than I felt—I had to. Once my mom reeled in her shock, she listed all the reasons it was a bad idea to include Nash in my recovery here in Chicago and back home.
My family is firmly in the “We Don’t Like Nash” camp. I was too—maybe I still am—but after reading those texts last night, I decided I owed it to myself to see where my choices three years ago led me today.
For better or worse.
“It’s only one night.” I plaster a reassuring smile on my face. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow evening.”
My mom leans in, shielding Nash from her words. “I wish I had the same confidence in him that you do.”
I wouldn’t say I have confidence in him. It’s more about the confidence I used to have in myself and my ability to make solid decisions. But waking up with my life turned upside down has made me question everything. Part of leaning into Nash is discovering how I ended up down a path that doesn’t make sense and seems so unlike me.
“If you feel uncomfortable with him at all?—”
I tune out my mom’s words, darting my gaze to Nash as he loads the back of his Land Cruiser with our bags. His expression when he heard he was coming to Skaneateles will be burned in my mind forever—barring another bout of amnesia. Teary green eyes, a broad smile filling his entire face, raised brows in surprise. A look that genuine is hard to replicate.
“Oh, I’m sure Nash isn’t that bad.” I shift my attention back to my mom. “I married him for some reason.”
“And yet, we still don’t know that reason.” She steps aside so I can hug my dad and Annie.
“It will be so good to finally have you home again,” my dad says as he wraps me into his arms. “We’ll get the house decorated for Christmas, and your bedroom will be ready for you.”
“Thanks.”
Annie is next. Her hug isn’t as fragile as my parents’. She tugs me in, swaying our bodies together back and forth. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“You’re picking us up from the airport, right?”
“I’ll be there.”
Awkwardness fills the air as the five of us stand on the hospital curb by our cars, staring at each other. My parents don’t want to watch me leave with Nash, and my nerves about the situation prevent me from initiating the final goodbye.
Nash looks at me with raised brows. “Are you ready?”
There’s more behind his words than just asking if I’m ready to leave the hospital. His stare is loaded with questions about being ready to open myself up to the life I created with him and see the person I’ve become.
It would be easier to leave here with my parents, fly back to Skaneateles, and pretend everything in Chicago with Nash never existed. A huge part of me wants to do that. But I owe it to the woman behind those text messages to see what made her so dang happy.
NASH
I never cared if there was silence between me and Sadie in a car ride. We were comfortable enough for that sort of thing. But today, the lack of conversation feels quieter than silence.
It feels deadly.
For our future, at least.
Sadie has a lot on her mind, so I don’t want to force her into talking if she doesn’t feel like it, but I also worry that if we don’t talk, she’ll assume we’re incompatible.
“Was it—” I begin just as she says, “Have you?—”
We both laugh nervously.
“Sorry.” I grip the steering wheel tighter. “You first.”
“No, you go.”
“I was just going to ask if it was hard to say goodbye to your family. I mean, I know it was. I just wanted to know if you’re okay.” I hope the reason she’s not talking has nothing to do with me and more about her being sad about her family.
“They’re what I remember, so having them with me is comforting, but it’s only until tomorrow. I’ll be okay for twenty-four hours without them.” Her face turns to me. “Have you been to my hometown before, you know, with me?”
My lips lift. “Yeah, I’ve been there with you.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t there under the circumstances she thinks.
“Good.” A wave of relief washes over her, and instantly, she relaxes into her seat. Her eyes brighten. “So you know my brother Tate?”
“I’ve met him once. He’s the only person in your family who liked me right off the bat.”
“Really?” She purses her lips in disbelief.
“Is that so shocking?” I laugh.
“I guess not. It’s just, out of everyone in my family, I’m the closest to Tate. I’ve worshiped the ground he walks on since I was a little girl.”
“I know.” This entire conversation rips my heart to shreds, but I promised Sadie’s parents I wouldn’t say anything about her brother.
“Do I talk about Tate a lot?”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to feel bad about it. I love hearing all the crazy stories about the two of you. It’s one of my favorite things to listen to you talk about.”
“Really?” Her smile widens into something adorably innocent.
“Yeah.”
“I can’t wait to see him when we get there.” She adjusts in her seat, glancing out her window. “I miss him so much.”
The words were more to herself than me, so I let them hang without a reply, hating how, in a few days, that happiness over seeing her brother again will be wiped away.
“Do you have siblings?”
I smile, glad she’s willing to let down her walls enough to get to know me a little better. “I have a brother.”
“What’s his name?”
“Nolan, but he passed away four and a half years ago.”
Her expression falls. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Can I ask what happened?”
With anyone else, I wouldn’t want to talk about this kind of stuff, but Sadie has always been the one person who makes it easy to work through my pain. Grief connects us, cutting the same.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s none of my business.”
“Of course it’s your business. Everything important to me has always been important to you. It’s one of the things I love about you.”
“Uh.” The mention of the word love has her tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to deal with the anxiety of the declaration.
“Nolan was an alcoholic,” I say, trying to keep the open dialogue going. “He was drunk and crashed his car into a tree. Luckily, it was late at night, and nobody else was involved in the accident.”
Unprompted, Sadie reaches out, placing her hand on my shoulder and keeping it there. The same small gesture she did years ago when I told her about my brother. It feels like a milestone compared to two seconds ago, when the thought of me loving her made her fidget nervously.
“I’m really sorry.” Her brown eyes are full of her signature sincerity.
“I know you are.” I stare at her for as long as a person driving a car can until they have to look back at the road.
She moves her hand away, and my skin goes cold without the warmth of her touch.
“Do you have any other family besides Nolan?”
“My dad took off before I could walk, and my mom dropped us off at my aunt’s house when I was eleven so she could pursue her career. I grew up with my cousin, Lindy. She’s like a sister to me.”
“Autumn mentioned something about Lindy. So she’s your cousin?”
“Yeah, you and she are really tight.”
Sadie’s eyes widen. “We are?”
“Yeah, next to Autumn, she’s your best friend. I used to joke that you liked her more than you liked me.”
Her gaze drops to her hands, and I know she’s grappling with another piece of information she doesn’t remember.
“Lindy is one of those people who’s instantly lovable. She’s also an open book, so you’ll know everything you need to know about her within five minutes of meeting her.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to meet her just yet. I can only handle getting to know one stranger at a time.”
“I beat you in checkers three times last night. I’d hardly call us strangers,” I joke. “But you don’t have to worry about Lindy. She’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready.”
Instant relief washes over her. “Okay.”
Our house comes into view, and I park the car in front. “This is us.”
Sadie slowly climbs out, studying the brownstone apartment. Four steps and a rod iron railing lead to black French doors. Bay windows on each floor stack one on top of the other. Forty-year-old trees line the streets, shading the front.
“Which level is ours?”
“All three.”
“All three?” she gapes. “Why do we need a house this big? Do we have seven children I don’t know about?”
“No, not yet.” I walk to her side, gazing up at the brick building. “It’s more space than we need right now, but you fell in love with this place the second the realtor showed it to us.”
“It is charming.”
“Come on, I’ll show you inside.” I lead the way, unlocking the front doors and pushing them open.
She stands in the entry, taking in the living room. “There’s a Christmas tree.”
I set the bags down on the floor. “Lindy put it up for us even though we lived at the hospital.”
Hesitantly, she takes a few more steps inside, like a guest.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but this is your house. What’s mine is yours and vice versa. I just want you to feel at home and comfortable.”
“It’s really nice.” She runs her fingers down the arm of the brown leather couch. “Is this your furniture?”
“It’s our furniture.” I smile. “You decorated the place.”
“I did?”
“Well, you and the decorator, Lawrence.”
“Ah. That makes more sense. I’ve never been good with design.”
She walks around the room, looking closely at the pictures on the shelves.
“That’s our wedding day,” I say, following her.
“In Tahiti. Autumn told me,” she explains but doesn’t have any other reaction to the best day of my life.
“And that was the first day we moved in.” I point to one of us sitting on a blow-up mattress, holding Spaghetti-Os cans.
“Where’s this?” She stops in front of a picture of her ziplining backward, spider style, with another man.
“That’s in Costa Rica. The tour guide said you had to go down the zipline tandem with him, and for some reason, he made you lay flat on your stomach and then straddle him. He was so pleased with himself when he zoomed past me with your legs wrapped around him.” I smile, lifting my shoulders. “I don’t know. We thought it was hilarious, so we put the picture in our house.”
She nods a few times, barely cracking a smile. “How long have we lived here?”
“Almost from the beginning of our marriage.” I follow her into the dining room and kitchen. I don’t want to hover, but since she’s asking questions, I feel like it’s safe to linger. “We remodeled the kitchen ourselves.”
“It shows.”
I think that was a joke, but I can’t be sure.
“You wanted neutral tones, plus you wanted to knock down the wall between the dining room and the kitchen to open the place up more.”
“And do I usually get what I want with you?” She flips me a teasing glance that sends a thrill through my stomach.
We’re making headway.
“Usually.” I return her smile.
She opens a few cupboards and drawers then turns to face me. “I knew you were rich, but I didn’t know you were this rich.”
“I wasn’t. Not when you married me, at least. But we’ve had some good luck.”
“What changed?”
“I fell in love, married a brilliant woman, and made her my business partner.”
“Me?” she scoffs. “What did I do?”
I cross one foot over the other as I lean against the kitchen counter opposite of her. “Locum tenens.”
“Loco what?” she shakes her head, not understanding, which isn’t a surprise because all of this happened during the lost years of her life.
“Locum tenens, where physicians fly around the country to fill in for other clinicians when they’re on vacation or maternity leave. You didn’t make up the concept, but once you learned about it, you brought the idea to me and helped add it to our business model.”
She frowns. “That seems a little presumptuous of me to give my boss business advice.”
“It wasn’t like that. It was part of your internship, and you were right. It completely elevated our company.”
“ Our company?”
“We’re equal partners. Your name as a co-owner is listed on all the official documents.”
She blows out a breath, letting her lips vibrate against each other. “I guess I expected some kind of prenup—you know, since you built your business before you knew me. It’s only smart to protect yourself and your assets.”
“I didn’t feel like I needed protection. I trust you completely, and I trust what we have together.”
Her jaw hardens. “Sometimes things change.”
“But how I feel about you never will.”
“You can’t be that sure. From the sound of things, I’m a different person now than I was before. I have a jagged scar across my forehead and sunken cheeks. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the person you loved and married.”
“When I married you, I vowed to enter a contract of mutual decay.”
“Like, you said that in our vows?”
“No,” I sputter. “I just mean that no matter how we change or deteriorate, we promise to love each other through it all. The good and the bad. If this is your bad right now, I’m not scared, and I’m not going anywhere. I love you no matter what.”
Sadie glances away, just like she always does when I talk about my feelings for her. She pushes off the counter. “I guess I should be happy. I have always wanted to run some kind of healthcare business. That’s the motivation behind my degree and what brought me to Chicago for your internship in the first place. I just always thought I would run my dad’s home health and hospice business.”
“Are you disappointed you’re not?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “There are a lot of things that didn’t turn out how I expected.”
“Like me?”
“You’re definitely a curve ball I wasn’t expecting.”
The corner of my mouth rises with an edge of playful charm. “But if you’re patient and sit back on a curve ball, it could be a home run.”
“Or a swing and miss.”
“We’re not a miss, I promise.”
Sadie stares at me, unconvinced, and all I want to do is show her how great we are together. I want to shove a million pictures of us into her hands, play our wedding video on every TV, or pull her into my arms and kiss her neck and lips the slow, sensual way that drives her crazy. But I can’t. So I say instead, “You know, we met at a baseball game.”
“I thought you were my boss.”
“I was. But the Saturday before your first day at work, I hit on you at a Cubs game.”
Her brows draw inward as she tries to make sense of it all. If Dr. Hatchet were here, she’d tell me that overwhelming Sadie with facts about our life is a bad idea. She’d tell me to give her time to put the pieces together herself when she’s ready.
I’m failing miserably at that.
“Listen, I’m kind of tired.” She rubs her hands down her face. “Could we do the whole house-tour thing later?”
“Sure. I’ll show you to our room so you can get some rest.”
Disappointment falls through me, but I hide it. I wore her out with too much information. Things would be so much easier if Sadie were as eager as I am to fill in the gaps, but I have to keep reminding myself this is going to be a long recovery process. She sets the pace, and I follow along for the ride.
There’s nothing fast or easy about rediscovering three and a half years of your life that you lost.