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Ava stood on the doorstep of her parents’ mansion. Leaving the comfort of the ranch house had been painful. She had seen the questions in Devlin’s eyes, and she had hardly known what to say. He was an amazing guy. The hardest thing was the memories. They kept creeping in at unexpected moments, and a surge of intense love would fill her. It scared her. Those kinds of feelings were of a time and a life she still didn’t fully remember. A time she might never fully regain.
It was hard for her to describe the fear that filled her whenever she thought of those missing months. The dreams of the car crash, the feeling of being trapped in a black well of doubt, with no way out . . .
Before she’d left, he had asked her out, to the diner, to talk. Even if it had meant just rekindling a friendship. She had told him that she would think about it, and his eyes had shuttered. She knew it was because he thought she still wanted to keep their relationship hidden, but she had been unable to voice what she was thinking; she only knew that she needed to see her parents first.
Ava took a calming breath, then twisted the key and entered the foyer. It was a bit of a surprise that her mother and father did not rush outside when they heard her pulling into the driveway. Her mother would know that Ava had not slept in her bed. She’d checked in every morning since Ava’s release from the hospital, and this morning would have been no different.
Ava glanced at the hall clock. It was almost two in the afternoon.
She stepped into the living room and halted when she saw her parents sitting with Patrick. They had yet to see her as all their attentions were on Patrick. His blond head was bent, his elbows resting on his knees and shoulders tensed. He was dressed in well pressed khaki slacks with a button down shirt. He was handsome, rich, and studying for his bar exams. She searched her heart and body and she felt nothing for him beyond friendship.
She moved further into the room. “Hello.”
Her father surged to his feet. “Where have you been, young lady? And do not say at Willow’s, because your mother went over there when she saw your note this morning.” He was a big man and full of bluster, his face was heavy an
d his cheeks were reddening with temper.
Her mother twisted her hands in agitation and all the anger and pain that had been building inside of Ava eased. She had been wondering how to confront them. To let them known she was aware they had lied to her, without knowing she had been with Devlin. She had wanted to avoid the arguments, the possible recriminations. While she had no clue if she wanted a future with Devlin, it hurt her that she was still thinking of hiding that she had been with him.
But she was not going to do it anymore. “I was with Devlin Calhoun.”
The silence was profound.
“What?” her father roared.
She walked over to Patrick, ignoring her father. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done. Her father was larger than life, and he was one of the most important people in her life. Without looking at her mother, she sank onto the sofa opposite Patrick.
“I’m sorry, Patrick. When I had my attack at the diner, it was because of memories I had of Devlin. I wanted to understand, but I could see that mom and dad would not be honest with me. So I went to him.”
Her mother drew in a sharp breath.
Patrick reached for her hands and clasped them in his. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us you had memories of him? I am sure if Marjorie and Donald knew, they would have said something.” He glanced at her parents, who nodded in confirmation, but now both looked guilty.
Liars!
Ava pulled her hands from his and gave him a soft smile to take away the sting. “They wouldn’t have.” She twisted so that she could see her parents as well, fighting the blush trying to climb her cheeks. “They were memories of us . . . together . . . as lovers.”
Her mother’s eyes widened in horror and her father snarled under his breath, but Ava continued. “They were mental snapshots—of us laughing together. Riding his motorbike together, having lunch, swimming at the lake. Memories of watching Devlin in his workshop as he worked on one of his designs, of him watching me churn out my stories on his old typewriter. They were memories of me being happy, unlike any other time in my life.”
Tears slid down her face and she wiped them away angrily. Now was not the time to be crying. She had shed enough tears for the last few months. “You knew why I was on the road to Cedar Bluff, Dad. I would never have left town without telling you where I was going. You knew I was leaving town with Devlin that I was choosing him, and yet you said nothing when I asked. You lied to me, over and over, and I have been so desperate for answers.” The accusation was out and now it was her parents turn to feel embarrassed. She could see the emotions flicker over their faces, guilt, embarrassment, discomfort.
Her father raked his hands over his face wearily and sat down heavily beside her mother.
“Have you remembered everything, pumpkin?”
Ava shook her head. “No, I haven’t. Not completely. I only have these fleeting snapshots of the time I was with Devlin. Nothing about the rest of the year.”
Her father nodded. “The Calhoun boy just isn’t good enough for you, pumpkin.”
“You don’t know him, Dad.”
“I knew enough. Always out of school. He dropped out of college, he was always getting into trouble. He has tattoos.”
“He was only out of school when he had to take care of his dad.” Suddenly she knew they had a similar conversation before. It felt too familiar. “And I have a tattoo.”
“Don’t remind me,” her father growled.
“You have a tattoo?” Patrick snapped, pushing to his feet.
