Chapter 34
34
Poppy
One memory unlocked.
Not just any. A memory of Laird.
Laird being a part of a memory doesn’t make sense just like dreaming of him in the vaguest terms of my past didn’t. I didn’t know him then. I didn’t love him like I do now. Why is this happening?
My head starts pounding, so I rub my temple as I work through the memory, trying to recall any piece of the puzzle I can. “I don’t understand, and it makes me feel like I’m losing my mind.” I’m not asking a question, but I can’t help but want him to explain. He doesn’t. He grips the steering wheel, keeping his eyes ahead.
Usually, he’d have a hand resting on my leg, or I’d revel in the glances he steals any chance he gets. Sitting next to me now, he has me wondering why his concentration is so intense when driving home. Home . . .
My apartment or his?
“I need to think. ”
That pulls his attention, and he looks at me. “What does that mean?”
“It means I need to think. I need to process what is happening, to figure out why I’m confusing my present with my past.” His eyes return to the road, leaving me lost in their absence. I don’t understand him, but I’m so desperate for him to save me that I lower my voice and ask, “What do you think is going on?”
“I . . .” He takes a breath, then exhales slowly. “I think you want to remember, but you’ve made more memories since then, and your sorter is out of order.”
“My sorter?” A smile actually threatens to ruin my bad mood.
“The chronological order sorter in our heads. It’s confused.” Normally, I’d find that cute, but I can’t seem to reason how he’s in my past and present.
I stare at him, thinking I might find the answer or another memory will pop up. I’m left empty, but I’m also feeling invisible. “Why won’t you look at me?”
Naturally, he looks at me as if to prove a point. “I am.”
“No, it’s different. You’re acting different.” I hate having this conversation in the car, but it feels too important to wait an hour in LA traffic to say what needs to be aired out. “You’re calling me confused. You’re barely looking at me. The only thing that’s different between now and back at the party is that I’ve had a memory of you from before.”
The loss of control starts getting out of hand, and my frustration grows. I want to scream. I want to rage. “I want to remember so badly.” Scanning the endless cars plodding along the freeway sends my blood pressure skyrocketing. “Why does it take so long to get anywhere in this forsaken city?”
I barely get a blink from him, much less a reaction of understanding. “You’re avoiding me. You’re avoiding me, Laird, and I don’t know why.”
“I’m not avoiding you. I’m sitting right here. You’re just upset when you should be happy you had a memory.”
“A memory that feels like a lie.” I roll the window all the way down to cool off, hoping the fresh air and cool night will calm the choppy waters of my thoughts. It’s not enough to keep the panic from rising . . . my heart racing . . . palms sweating. I run my hands over my skirt, but nothing seems to help. “It’s a lie, Laird. My memory . . . it’s a thief.” The words are harder to come by, so I massage my temples to break up the nonsense clouding them.
“I can’t fucking lie to you anymore.” He slams his palms down on the steering wheel, causing me to jump. “They’re not just your memories. It’s my fucking life wrapped up in them.” It’s not his tone that gets me. It’s the words that rip me to shreds. His reaction is quick—a hand to my arm, the stroke of my hair. “I’m sorry.”
The initial confession still lingers between us, even if I struggle to process it. “You’re lying to me?”
He says, “I can explain—”
“You can explain what?” I throw my arm out before me. “You just watched me spinning and lied until you couldn’t take it anymore?” My anger boils over as any ounce of the memory I was having disappears. “This isn’t about you, Laird!”
“You think I don’t know that? My fucking heart was destroyed by that accident.”
“What are you talking about?” I stare at him, unable to comprehend how deep this goes between us. “Are you saying you knew me?”
“I’ve loved you since the moment we met.”
Destiny .
Tattoos.
Barbecue.
The memories take a new shape as I put them back in order. But my tears water them down, making them fuzzy again. “The moment we met? The moment we met at your cabin, right?” I hate that my tears fall, making me weak in his eyes.
“No.” He’s shaking his head, but I still feel left in the dark.
I cover my temples with my palms, the pain becoming too much. “Make this make sense. Please. Please tell me you haven’t been lying to me this entire time I’ve been falling in love with you.”
“I can’t.” His gaze volleys between the road and my broken heart.
“You once told me the tattoo symbolized the brokenhearted. That’s you. It’s always been about you.” My heart hurts as much as my head. An ache that started in my chest radiates to every nerve ending in my body.
“You must believe me. Everything I’ve done I’ve done for you.”
“Except tell me the truth.” He tries to touch my cheek, but I pull away, needing space that a fancy car like this can’t give.
His hand falls to his leg. “I couldn’t.”
“No, you chose not to. You chose to betray me instead.” I could breathe fire from the number of times I’ve been betrayed.
“I didn’t betray you, Poppy. I swear to you.”
My dad.
My mom.
And now Laird .
“You knew me . . .” While that sinks in, I whisper, “Take me home.”
“Please don’t do this. I can explain when you’re calm.”
The anguish I feel, the dread growing unbeknownst, breaches the control that kept me afloat. “Calm?” I laugh and then go silent, knowing he was lying this whole time. The fight I had vanishes as I’m submerged in my deepest emotions. Grappling to save myself, I throw my arms wide against the console and the door. “I can’t do this. I need out.” When I close my eyes, my mind plays tricks on me—Laird in the distance, our eyes locked, but too far to hold on. My breathing shallows as bitterness coats my throat, and I begin to drown. “I, I . . .”
“Breathe, Poppy. Breathe.” His hand lands on my chest, but the words go under with me. “Take a breath.” Panic rises, the choking causing me to gasp. I rest my head on the opening of the window, close my eyes, and take a breath. “You’re okay,” he says, his voice wrapping around me to drag me to safety. “It’s okay.”
I open my eyes to see his crystalized in ice blue. I can’t speak as I take every breath I can, inhaling them into my lungs. “You’re okay, baby.” My heart calms under his touch on my cheek, the warmth of his love for me. “We’ll be okay,” he says and turns back to the freeway.
“I—” It’s not the fight with him that reminds me how harsh life can be. It’s when he slams on the brakes in a sea of traffic.
Tires skidding.
Glass exploding.
Blue skies staring into mine.
Heaven was mine all along.
I hold my last breath as we’re spun around, my chest slamming into his outstretched arm, knocking it out of me and sending me backward. I hit the seat, my head bouncing against the headrest before I have a chance to open my eyes again.
A scream rings in my ears before I realize it’s mine escaping. I find his arm and hold on until we stop spinning, the final blow sending me sideways.
I open my eyes, sucking in shallow breaths. Pinned by the airbag, I look for the one thing that matters. “Laird?” I cry, trying to push off the door to get to him. The seat belt traps me in place. “Laird?” I whimper. “Please. Please. Please.”
His head jerks up. Coughing, he sinks in the seat when he sees me. “Thank God you’re okay.”
I’m holding his arm, my lifeline to him. “Don’t move, okay?”
“I’m okay.” He’s not okay. He wipes across his brow and smears the blood trailing down his face.
“You’re okay,” I say, trying to smile for him, but my tears are too heavy, the thought of losing him overwhelming. His arm is ripped from my hands, and I’m not sure if I’m dead or alive. In the chaos of the collision, I find myself smiling as the memories that had escaped play back like a movie reel.
“I’m all yours.” His smile is so clear, like the happiness we felt that day. His kisses numb the pain and put me right back in Austin.
“How much mine?” I tease, wanting him more than I should.
“I’m all in,” he says as if it’s set in stone.
Everything.
Everything.
He’s everything.
I’m falling for him . . .
I remember.
I remember everything .
It’s been Laird all along. I remember him.
My door opens, my body still pinned. The airbag deflates, and my seat belt is released. I’m pulled into his arms and carried to the back of the car, but his steps falter before we get any farther.
I’m set on my feet so he can brace himself on his arm, his body held by the car. Reaching up, he touches my cheek, but the blood furrows in his brow and causes him to look down. “I’m . . .” He coughs.
I wedge myself against him, finding the strength. I’ll be here for him. Looking around, I yell, “Help us. Please help us.” Grabbing his hand, I kiss it. I kiss it a million times like he’s kissed mine. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
He smiles, paling under the loss of blood. My heart is so wrapped up in this man, and my knees weaken. “C’mere, baby.”
Sliding my arms around his middle, I kiss him on the lips, selfishly needing him to live so I can. I’ll breathe for him if that’s what it takes. His head rolls on his neck, and there’s that lady-killer smile, even now. “I’m here. I’m here, babe.”
Despite the blood, he caresses my cheek and stares at my mouth. “You were sunshine, blinding me in the crowd, and I fell so madly—” He coughs, his smile disappearing as his arm starts to give out. His weight falls on me, but I hold tighter. It’s only a whisper, but he says, “I’m madly in love with you. Always have been.”
“Hold on to me.” I lie against the car, my ribs aching under the pressure.
His head bobs forward, but when he catches himself and looks up, our eyes fix on each other. “I never let you go. You were always with me.”
I won’t look away. I could stare into his eyes forever. “I remember meeting you backstage and the wild weekend that followed. I remember you drawing our tattoos on a napkin and talking you into making them permanent. I remember I chose yours to be over your heart so you’d always have a reminder of me. You chose my spot as a reminder that I was yours.” Putting my cheek against his, I whisper, “There could never be another once I met you.”
His hand slides around me, and he nods. When speaking becomes too much for him, I keep talking for the two of us. “Let’s play a game. I’ll go first.” His head rests on my shoulder, so I turn and say, “Never have I ever loved anyone as much as I love you.” I struggle for air, tears streaming down my face, but I whisper, “Your turn, Laird.”
Stifling a sob, I dip my cheek to his neck, needing to find a pulse. “Never have I ever . . .” Hearing his voice allows me to breathe again.
“Never have you ever what, babe? Tell me,” I cry. “Please tell me.”
The sirens blare in the background when he whispers, “Told you that you are the greatest love and loss of my life.”