Page 165 of The Broken Keys

“That won’t be necessary.” I push through the door and into the hallway.

My chest loosens the moment I’m out of that confined space, like I can finally breathe again. Quinn falls into step beside me as we stride toward the elevator.

“The coffee shop is two blocks away.” She doesn’t say anything more as we descend to the main level of our office building.

When we’re outside and strolling along the sidewalk, I break the silence. “So, tell me about my life.”

“That’s a broad request.” She glances at me with a small smile. “Where do you want to start?”

“My love life.”

Quinn’s eyebrows lift. “Your love life?”

“Yeah.” I wrap my arms around my waist as we walk. “What do you know about it?”

“I know you’re with Cash. Why?”

“I don’t know.” A picture of Jaxon floats across the screen of my mind. I growl for some unknown reason. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

We cross at the intersection and continue down the next block. A couple passes us, holding hands and laughing at something private between them. The sight of them is sweet and helps relieve tension in my muscles.

“There’s this feeling I can’t shake.” I slow my pace, trying to put words to something I don’t understand. “Like something’s missing.”

“Missing how?”

“I can’t explain it.” I curl my fingers into my palms. “Callum is wonderful. He’s attentive, loving, and everything I’ve always wanted. But there’s this emptiness in my heart that won’t go away.”

Quinn stops and faces me. “Emptiness?”

“Not with him. He’s perfect.” I give her my attention, searching for the right explanation. “It’s more like...a hole in my chest that I don’t know how to fill. Something that feels important, but I can’t access it.”

“Tell me more. I’ll help you figure it out.”

I resume walking, and Quinn matches my stride. “The memory loss is making it hard for me to feel settled.”

“But it’s not just that, is it?”

“No.” The coffee shop comes into view ahead. “It’s deeper. More specific. Like I’m missing a piece of myself and I don’t even know what piece it is.”

Quinn is quiet for several steps. When she speaks, her voice is careful. “Have you talked to Cash about this?”

“No. He’s not the problem. He’s great, just like he always has been.”

Quinn stops me with a hand on my arm before we reach the coffee shop entrance. “It could be because…”

“What? Don’t hold out on me now.”

Something unreadable floats behind her eyes. “Maybe it’s about someone you can’t remember.”

The words hit me like cold water. My breath catches and that familiar pain shoots through my brain.

“Who?” The question comes out barely above a whisper.

Quinn opens the coffee shop door. “Let’s get our lattes first. Then we’ll talk.”

“You’d better tell me everything.”