Chapter 7
Halloween in the Atlantic
“You can’t avoid me, you know.”
“I can try,” I tell myself.
“It won’t work. I’m you and you are me. There are no two ways around it. Our memories are back, and you can’t deny me anymore.”
I’m sitting in a dark room filled with fairy lights, a mirror in front of me. I glare at my reflection because it’s not really my reflection. She is me. Old Elizabeth. And she’s not happy.
“I want to go back. I want to see Jayson,” she tells me.
“No.”
“He’ll come for me. You’ll see.
“I don’t care.”
“Why are you making this so hard on us?”
My fiery green eyes blaze at her. “You never could decide who you wanted. Jayson or Ryder. I made the final choice. I chose Ryder. You never could do that. You can’t have both. You were selfish thinking that you could. God, I hate you.”
“You can’t fight history, New Elizabeth.
“That’s not true. I was making a new life for myself. I was happy. You could never say that. You could never be happy loving two guys. Being with one while wanting another.”
Old Elizabeth throws back her head and laughs and I want to smack her. “You will never find true happiness with Ryder. You’re deluding yourself if you think you can. Jayson will never let me go.”
“I’m a different person now,” I tell her. “Stronger. I know what I want.”
“Do you?” My reflection sneers at me. “Deep down, you know that we will always love both of them. You can’t escape destiny. From the moment we met Jayson, Julien, and Ryder, our heart was forever bound to the three of them.”
“Yes, but we had to make a choice, and I chose Ryder.”
“And I chose Jayson,” she retorts, a smug smile on her face
“Did you, though?” I counter and she frowns.
“Set me free. Let me go back.
“No!” I scream at her. “I don’t want my old life back!”
Old Elizabeth is screaming now too—our combined voices creating a sonic blast that shatters the glass of the mirror. Then everything goes silent. It’s just me sitting in the dark room. Alone.
I wake suddenly to tangled sheets around my head. No wonder it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I roll over and check the clock. Two hours. At least it’s something. Perhaps a good run on the treadmill in the fitness room will help burn off some excess energy so I can get some sleep later tonight.
Getting up, I change into some leggings and a cotton T-shirt I discover in the bottom dresser drawer.
Tatiana’s shoes are too small for me, so I’ll either have to go barefoot or wear socks.
I opt for socks. I slip out of my room so as not to disturb Fallon since his room is next to mine, then make my way up the stairs.
As I enter the main area on the upper deck, a man’s voice surprises me.
“Can I get you anything, Miss Fairchild?”
“Holy crap, Robert. You scared the bejeezus out of me.”
“May I ask what a bejeezus is?”
“Sorry. It’s a figure of speech where I come from. It means you scared the mess out of me.” I walk to where he’s sitting. “I noticed your accent.”
“Born in Surrey, about thirty minutes outside of London. However, I have lived most of my life in the States.”
I wonder if Robert ever gets to rest like a normal person or if he has to be on call all the time. It makes sense if so. We’re sailing on a boat… yacht, and I guess everyone who works on board has to be ready at all times for anything that comes up.
I hesitate, not knowing if I should go or stay and chat a little longer. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was going to go work out for a while in the fitness room.”
“If you need anything, just pick up the red phone mounted on the wall by the door and press the number seven,” he reminds me.
“I remember. Thanks, Robert. Hey, Robert? Can I ask you a question?”
Robert puts down the newspaper he was reading.
He looks like a dad would, sitting at a table with a newspaper in his hand.
My dad would have had a guitar pick instead of a newspaper, but it doesn’t stop the pang of longing that stabs through me at the thought.
I would give anything to see my father again, to have him hug me in that special way only dads do that make their daughters feel cherished and loved.
God, I miss my parents. I’ve kept a tight lid on my emotions about the car accident, but I know sooner or later, I’m going to have to deal with losing them.
And then there’s my sister. Part of me is so angry at Hailey right now for running away.
Does she even know our parents are dead?
Does she care? But then I feel guilty for feeling that way.
What if something happened to her too? I should be home helping Daniel find her. And here comes more guilt.
Robert must see something in my facial expression because he motions me over to take a seat with him at the table
“What questions may I assist you with, Miss Fairchild?”
I shove down the thoughts about my family. “Please, call me Elizabeth.”
“As you wish,” he replies, and I giggle.
“Princess Bride reference,” I explain when he gives me an inquisitive look. Then he nods in understanding, a small curve tipping his lips.
“How long have you worked for Fallon and his family?” I ask him.
“I have worked for the Montgomery family for about twenty years.”
“So, you know them well?”
“As much as any employee knows an employer when they’ve worked for them for an extended period of time,” he vaguely replies.
I lean in and hush out, “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Robert. I had amnesia. My memories returned yesterday.” Was it just yesterday? Can your entire life flip on a dime in that short amount of time?
Robert reaches over and gently pats my linked hands where they are resting on the table. The gesture is kind and again reminds me of my father.
“It’s really hard for me to connect what once was with what is now.
For example, I remember Fallon from before, but my old memories of him are nothing like what I know of him now.
It’s very confusing.” I have no clue why I just told a total stranger that.
Maybe it’s because Robert reminds me of Dad.
“I cannot imagine what you must be going through,” he kindly says. “May I ask you a question, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Please do,” I tell him.
“Why are you here with Mr. Montgomery?”
“Let’s just say that right now, he’s my life preserver. Without him, I would have already drowned. Bad choice of analogy, I know, since we’re on a boat in the Atlantic.”
“Very true,” he chuckles. “I hope Mr. Fallon is able to give you what you need. I’m here for you as well.”
I consider his meaning because what he said sounded personal and not work-related, and reply, “Thank you, Robert. I truly appreciate that.”
He reaches over to pick up a pack of cards at the end of the table. “Have you ever played cribbage?” he asks
My eyes light up. “Actually, yes I have. I love it.”
“Excellent,” he says. “No one on this bloody boat plays and I’ve been forced to play Solitaire by myself. Would you care to play a game?
“I would love to.”
Robert hands me the deck of cards to shuffle and pulls out a beautifully crafted wooden cribbage box from the drawer in front of him.
I look down and notice that the table has drawers inset along the sides.
I open the large drawer facing me and find a backgammon board. This must be a game table. Cool.
“What’s going on?” Fallon inquires as he saunters in. His blond hair is windswept, and he brings with him the smell of the ocean
My gaze sweeps him from toe to head. He’s in a pair of jeans now that hang low on his hips, and a dark blue long-sleeved Henley that makes his blue eyes pop.
“I thought you were asleep,” I say as he sits down in the chair beside me.
“Nah.”
“If I need to sleep, then so do you.”
“Yes, Mom.” He yawns and props his elbows on the table. “What are we playing?”
“Cribbage. Want me to deal you in?”
“Yeah. Might as well. Robert, can you call and get some coffee brought up?”
I slap Fallon’s arm. “Fallon! Leave the poor man alone.
“It’s not a problem, Miss Elizabeth.
I shake my head at him. “Where’s the coffee maker? I’ll go make it.”
“Kitten, sit your butt down.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. I can make coffee if I want to.”
Why does everything devolve into a bickering argument with him? I guess that’s what happens when you put two stubborn people in the same room together.
“Not while you’re on my boat. The only thing you need to do is rest and relax.”
“Fallon, for Christ’s sake. It’s just coffee.”
Poor Robert is standing idly by, waiting patiently. Fallon, however, doesn’t care that we have an audience, and he leans over to get in my face.
“You’re having nightmares and not sleeping. Your mind and your body have been through a lot. You need to rest to get better.”
How does he know I had a nightmare? “Were you spying on me while I was asleep?”
That cock-sure Fallon smirk makes its arrival. “No. I heard you through the door, if you must know.”
Robert discreetly slips away while Fallon and I glare at one another
“What did you hear?” I demand to know.
“Enough. Now stop fighting me on everything. You’re supposed to do what I say, remember?”
“Oh, please,” I roll my eyes, then I grudgingly relent.
“Thank you.”
“You’re not welcome.”
“Happy Halloween, kitten.”
Well, heck. “Happy Halloween, Fallon. And thanks for caring,” I sincerely tell him.