Chapter 30
Tuesday
Two days later . . .
I don’t have a lot, but there’s now enough to fill a suitcase.
None of this stuff matters to me, though. It’s clothes, shoes, and accessories. Superficial stuff that came into my life as nothing more than necessities.
Necessity?
Loch is the only thing I need, but he won’t fit in my luggage. If only there were a way to bring him into the life I used to know, to convince him to stay with me and continue to be my strength when I need him most. But he insists I do this alone.
Deep down, I agree.
He’s so much of my life, though, that I’m not sure I need time and space to welcome any potential memories back. Knowing he’s right doesn’t wash away my fear of the unknown, but I find comfort in having him to come home to when I return.
As much as I’m anxious to discover my old life, I’m also excited. Céline Schroder. It explains why Tuesday didn’t sound like me when I first heard it. Tuesday has become my identity, though, and represents this new life I’m living. It’s the one I want to live.
I put his T-shirt on top of the pile of clothes in the case, claiming it as mine.
“How’s it going? Anything I can take to the door?”
I quickly shut it so he doesn’t see the shirt because I need it more than he does.
“No,” I reply, glancing over my shoulder.
“Everything will fit in one case.” I zip it closed and am about to pull it from the bench but stop and stare at it as reality dawns.
“One case. My entire life fits in one suitcase. It’s not even the largest suitcase you had either. ”
Strong arms that make me feel safe wrap around me from behind. His warmth permeates between our bodies, and I lean back, melting into him and wishing I could always be this person. I like me with him.
I grin because I really like him with me, too. Yet, somehow, the next step in my journey doesn’t include him. Everything about that feels wrong, because the way he’s holding me feels so right. He makes it hard to walk away. Walk away for now. Only for now.
He lowers his chin to rest it on my shoulder. “You’re braver than you realize. Don’t be scared, baby,” he whispers, then rubs his hand over my heart. “I may not be with you, but I’m always in here.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and instead of fighting against the pain and loss I’m already experiencing, I give in and let them fall.
Curling forward as sobs wrack my frame, I’m scooped into his arms and carried to bed.
He settles on the mattress with his back against the headboard, cradling me on his lap.
My name, the one he calls me, whispered in prayers of gratitude.
“My life is better because I met you, Tuesday . . . lost without you . . . find your way and come home to me again . . .”
I take his words, soaking them into my soul to keep me warm when he’s not around. “I will.” Looking up into his eyes that gleam for me, my breath catches, but I finally manage to say, “It’s not over.”
“We’re not over, baby. We never will be.”
I don’t think for one moment I’ve felt like the wealthy woman the bank statement claims I am. It’s too surreal, but it begins to sink in when we pull up outside the mansion listed in the file. We opted to drive with the logic that it would take less time than dealing with the airport.
It was time we needed.
Hands clasped for hours.
Kisses to my neck.
Whispers in our ears.
Promises to keep.
Commitment.
It’s all so much that my heart broke a few times. Loch held me, making me feel better, but like at the apartment, I worry it might only be a temporary reprieve from the pain ahead. What’s ahead for me to discover?
Through the window, the home looks magical, with snow falling gently, like one you’d find in a snow globe or a picture-perfect Christmas movie set.
“Do you think it’s mine?” I ask. “Or my family’s?
” Nothing seems far-fetched anymore or out of the realm of possibility.
Every day, I receive new information in some form that gets me closer to solving the mystery of me.
Today, the house.
But what else is waiting for me?
Birchwood wreaths with red bows adorn each window, and candles anchor the sills.
It’s so inviting, but none of it makes any sense.
Curiosity has questions running wild in my mind.
Where are the people who live here? Tucked inside by a roaring fire?
At work? We’ve sat in the car for a good five minutes, and no one has come out to see who might be here. Who decorated?
Odd.
Loch’s leaning over to see out my window when the smallest of shrugs pops his shoulders. “Guess we’re about to find out. Do you want me to knock?”
I glance at him as if he has all the answers. “Maybe no one is home? Then what?”
“Then we come back later.” He rubs my leg. “Do you want me to stay until you feel more comfortable? Safe.”
When I glance back at the house, I see nothing but a welcoming image before me. How bad can it be? “No, I can do this alone. It’s my home, after all.”
“It’s not your home.” An injured tone is laced through his words, his concern for me, his love, causing my heart to constrict.
I don’t know that he’s looking for reassurance. He knows how much I love him, but I reach for his hand anyway, and hold it to my heart. “It’s a house. Nothing more.”
Sitting up, he squeezes my knee and gives me the smile I’ve come to rely on. “You are the most courageous woman I know. Look how you’ve navigated this transition in life.” His eyes dart past me to the house and then to me again. “This part will be easy.”
“I appreciate the faith in me, but I’m not sure how brave I’m feeling right now.”
“Take the time you need to recover and find your memories. I’ll miss you so much, but I’m only a phone call away.”
“I—”
Brady clears his throat.
Loch shakes his head with a wry grin on his face. “Brady and I will both be here to pick you up the moment you need us.”
“Thanks,” I tell Brady. Knowing I have them in my corner, that I can leave any time I want, makes this so much easier.
Staring into the eyes of the person I trust most in the world, I slide across the seat and into his arms. “Thank you.” I close my eyes to kiss him like it might be the last time.
It won’t be, but everything feels dramatic in the shadow of the unknown.
“Thank you will never be enough, but it’s all I have. ”
He caresses my face like I’m the most precious jewel in the world. “You are enough.” With the immensity of our emotions starting to weigh us down, he slips out of my hold and gets out of the Escalade.
I get it. We were unexpected and not what he had in his plans. And I know the time has come to walk away. For now. But I’ll be complete when I return to him with no loose ends left to tie up so we can start our life with no lingering unanswered questions.
Taking my suitcase from the back, he closes the trunk and then comes to my door and opens it. Ready or not, it’s time for the dreaded goodbye. I’ll do as he said and be brave. It’s all I have to carry me through the next few days. “Bye, Brady.”
“Take care of yourself, Tuesday, and if you need anything—”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a survivor.”
Giving me a nod of approval, he adds, “That you are.”
With one deep breath, I turn and land on my feet in the driveway that’s been cleared of snow. I look up at the house again. It feels even bigger from this angle, and although it’s beautiful, it’s also intimidating.
Who lives here with me?
Who’s clearing the snow?
Do I walk in or knock on the door?
My head spins, so I focus on what I know and what’s right in front of me—Loch. My love.
He’s set my case on the top step but stands before me now, his eyes seeming to struggle to lock on mine.
Such new territory for the both of us—hopelessly falling in love so fast and then forced to part because of my memory loss makes me feel bad.
I’d apologize again, but I know he’ll never accept it when he doesn’t feel it’s owed.
I embrace him again, loving him through a tight hold. He leans down to rest his forehead on mine. I say, “I love you.”
“I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“That’s not true. I’ve felt your love since the moment I saw you.”
He kisses my head and my lips. “I never saw you coming, and then you flipped my world upside down.” My eyes water again as he kisses the corner of my mouth.
“Upside down and right side up. I need you to know that I’m letting you go but only for a few days,” he says with a wry grin and a little wink, “hoping when you return to me, you won’t long for the unknown anymore.
You’ll be whole again. So this isn’t the end, Tuesday. It’s only our beginning.”
Tears roll down my cheeks until he catches them with the pads of his thumbs, leaving only the pink I know has streaked my cheeks. “I’ll only be gone a few days.” Forcing myself to leave the safety of his arms, I walk backward, and add, “I love you, Loch.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I love you, too.”
I turn and jog up the steps before I can back down from this challenge.
I can still feel his presence tethering me to him.
I look back, my breath stolen like the first time I saw him at the hospital.
His hair darker in contrast to the falling snow, the embers in his eyes always burning inside when he looks at me, and his frame—broad shoulders and that sexy athletic build. Gah! I’ll never get enough of him.
But here, during winter in the middle of what feels like nowhere, he wears his heart on his sleeve in a fervent tribute to me.
“You go first,” I say, unable to walk away from this amazing man.
He still has his hands tucked in his pockets when he rocks on his heels. “You sure?”
“I’ll be okay. I promise to call if I need you.”
“Need me, huh? Baby, I hope you find that need because I’ll always need you.”
My heart leaps to my throat, and I struggle to stand on my own. I swallow it down, and reply, “Always.”
He nods as if the one word was all he needed and then gets in the SUV. Rolling down his window, he says, “Come back to me. Do you understand?”
The right side of my mouth slides up my cheek despite the cold trying to freeze me. “Yes, sir.”
He winks. “Good girl.”
I grin like the woman in love that I am.
Sitting back, he rolls up the window as the vehicle pulls away. It’s a long drive through the property to return to the entrance, but they soon disappear over the hill in the distance.
Since I had no number to call ahead and warn anyone of my arrival, showing up will either be my best idea ever or the worst plan ever devised. I knock. And then again. Eventually, I look around, wondering if I’m the only one who lives . . . lived here. Maybe no one is here to answer.
It’s too big of a place to live alone. I ring the doorbell twice in a last effort before calling Loch to come back to pick me up. Or help me break in . . .
The door swings open. “Do I have to do everything around here?” a man yells from inside the house. When he turns around, his ice-blue eyes pin me to the spot as the color drains from his face. “Céline?”