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“She’s got almost full mobility on the left side of her body, but her memory isn’t improving as quickly as her doctors expected it to.”
“What’s it been, a month?”
“About that.”
“Before I put my foot in it, what’s the situation between the two of you?”
“We’re together.” My head snapped up again when I heard another SUV pull in. This time, I saw Maureen behind the wheel. “Excuse me.” I raced toward the vehicle, shouting behind me, “Zeke can get you set up.”
“Hi,” Siren said when I opened the door to help her out.
“How’d it go?”
“Not well,” she answered. “I have a terrible headache, and I’m not sitting through another one of those feckin’ scans.”
“They did more?”
“Yes,” she murmured, walking around me toward the house.
“Siren,” I called after her but felt Maureen’s hand on my arm.
“She had a rough go of it today.”
“In what way?”
“She remembered some things that are troubling her.”
“About her and me?”
The nurse nodded. “You might want to let her be for a bit.”
That was the last thing I intended to do. I stalked toward the house, down the hallway, past the open door of my bedroom. I opened the door to the other room without knocking. Siren was lying on the bed with her arm covering her eyes.
“Go away, Smoke.”
“Maureen said you had a rough day.”
“That, I did, and I’m not up for talking about it.”
I walked to the window, closed the blinds, and sat on the side of the bed. I moved Siren’s arm from her face. “Look at me,” I said when she turned her head away. “What did you remember?”
“More of the same.”
I hated the anguish I could hear in her voice.
“Why is it in every memory I have, you and I are at odds?” she cried, rolling her body farther from mine and then looking over her shoulder. “I don’t want you to answer unless you’re going to say something different than what you’ve said before.”
Even if I believed now was the right time to tell her how we’d felt about each other before a bullet almost took her life, with Decker’s arrival, I couldn’t get into it.
“Get some rest, and we’ll talk later.”
“Was that Decker I saw you talking to?”
“It was. Why?”
“I remember him.”
I left the room and the house with a terrible feeling plaguing me. Could I afford to let this go any longer? If I did, was I risking losing her forever?
