Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
I tilt my head back to look at him. “Do you think my memory is returning?”
“Let’s not make premature assumptions. Give it time.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions based on a single flashback. I’m just impatient to get that part of my life back.”
He kisses the top of my head. “You have to be patient and allow it to happen naturally. If you’re not remembering, it’s because you’re not ready to deal with it. It’s your mind’s way of protecting you.”
I sigh. “You’re right. Maybe I just have too much time on my hands.”
“Are you saying you want a hobby?”
“I—” I think about that. “I honestly don’t know. Did I have a hobby?” I add uncertainly, “You know, before?”
A veil drops in front of his eyes, making it impossible for me to read him, but the soft tilt of his lips is tender when he lets me go. “No, you didn’t.” He gives me a peck on the lips before unbuttoning his shirt. “I won’t be long. I know Noah is eager for us to go.”
“Sure.” Suppressing the new uncertainty that has taken hold of me, I try to sound confident and not as if my world is tilting off kilter. “Take your time.”
On my way to the kitchen, I consider what Dante has said. Before we started seeing each other in secret, my social calendar didn’t leave me much free time. I always had obligatory dinners, fundraisers, and parties to attend, so I never thought about taking up a hobby. Every one of my free minutes was spent scheming how to sneak away with Dante without getting caught.
And now there’s Noah. Everything in between is a blank. Except for those weird flashes accompanied by deeply unpleasant sensations. Is that why my mind won’t allow me to remember? Because if I do, the memories will crush me?
Emily meets me in the kitchen, interrupting my train of thought when she says, “I started packing.”
The statement comes out of nowhere, catching me by surprise. “You did?”
Noah pulls at my sleeve. “Can I have cereal, Mommy? Please?”
Emily wrings her hands. “You’re back on your feet, and, well, I reckon you don’t need me any longer.”
“But why the rush?” I touch her arm. “You know we love having you here, right?”
Noah pulls harder on my sleeve. “Mommy.”
“Just a moment, Noah. I’m talking to Emily, and it’s rude to interrupt people while they’re talking.”
“That’s the thing, you see,” Emily says with flushed cheeks.
Confused, I stare at her. “That we like having you here?”
“I think it will be good for you and Mr. Morici to have some privacy.”
Noah heaves an animated sigh that slouches his shoulders before marching with dramatic steps to the island counter.
Something she said gives me pause. Then it hits me. “You usually call him Dante.”
She gives a start.
I don’t know why I said that. In front of me, she addresses him as Mr. Morici. Although, I’m certain she calls him by his first name when I’m not present.
She opens her mouth, but I want to set things straight. “Dante and I do have privacy.”
Her smile is rueful. “It’s better like this.”
Oh. I think I get it. “If the work is too much, you should’ve told me.”
“It’s not that, I assure you.”
“Emily, I don’t understand. Dante sleeps at the condo seldomly. There’s not much to do. If it’s not the workload here, then what is it? We’ve always been open with each other. You can be frank with me.”
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“You’re not. I’ll tell you if that’s the case, which I can assure you will never be. I appreciate your help with the house and Noah.”
“All right,” she says, not sounding convinced.
“If you want to go back to the condo, that’s fine. I just don’t want you to do it for the wrong reasons. You’re always welcome here.”
She nods and moves away quickly, making it clear she doesn’t want to talk about the matter anymore.
Letting it go for now, I give Noah my attention. “Emily and I have finished talking. Now it’s your turn.”
“Can I have cereal?” he asks again. “Please?”
I’m not a big fan of feeding him something that’s so high in refined sugar and full of artificial colors and flavors. Jazz, meaning well, got him hooked on the cereal while I’d been missing.
I open the pantry. “You can have peanuts and raisins.”
Noah doesn’t contest because peanuts and raisins are always a firm favorite with him.
Once again, I have no idea how I know that.
I just do.
The dinner is fun. Noah is in his element. The three of us bond over deliciously cheesy pepperoni pizzas followed by ice cream sundaes for dessert. Noah makes full use of the carte blanche he’s been given by ordering a fizzy orange drink. I have a glass of white wine while Dante only has water because he’s driving.