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I’m nervous as I look at my reflection in the mirror.
I didn’t know what to wear on our “date.” The term seems absurd, seeing as I’ve known Cayden forever, but with my amnesia, it feels like I’m seeing him for the first time.
I don’t know what happens now. In most circumstances, the truth is supposed to set one free. But for me, I’m left with this ominous shadow hanging over my head.
However, I keep such thoughts from my mind and focus on getting ready because Cayden will be here in fifteen minutes. I’ve tied my hair back into a messy bun and settled on wearing a red summer dress with brown sandals.
I wonder if Cayden is as nervous as I am?
Now that I know the truth, I wonder what happens next? Will this new version of me love Cayden as much as the old me? A sense of dread fills me when the better question comes to mind—will Cayden love the new me? Or are his feelings for the girl I once was?
That girl didn’t sound like a very nice or happy person, but he still loved her. What if this version is too different from the one he fell in love with?
Groaning, I massage my temples because these what-ifs aren’t doing anything to help my nerves.
When there is a knock on my door, it’s time to face these insecurities head-on because no matter how uncertain I feel, Cayden has always loved me and I have to believe in that love.
Reaching for my lip gloss and phone, I stuff both into my bag and take a calming breath. I’m going to be fine, I repeat over and over. It’s Cayden. It’s time I gave this love a real chance.
With that as my incentive, I march through the house and open the door with confidence. However, when I see Cayden, standing before me in blue jeans and a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his taut forearms, I hold the doorjamb to stop me from face planting.
“Hi,” he says with a lopsided smirk.
“Hello,” I manage to wheeze.
He is fucking incredible and knowing our past, just makes him all the more desirable. But I rein in my need to tackle him to the ground because I’m not the type of girl who puts out on the first date. Well, I don’t think I am.
“Where are we going?” I ask when I think I can speak without gasping for air.
He steps forward while I tighten my hold on the doorjamb. “We’re going to where I should have taken you when you first arrived.”
I gulp.
“Okay. That doesn’t sound worrying at all,” I quip, gathering my bearings and locking the door behind me. His bluntness has robbed me of my nerves, which isn’t such a bad thing, I suppose.
However, when I turn and bump into a solid wall of delectable-smelling flesh, my nerves resurface. Peering up, I chew the inside of my cheek because every time I lock eyes with Cayden, everything falls into place. I can’t explain it, but I guess what we shared is inexplicable.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
On instinct, I shiver as his touch has me catching my breath. “Thanks.”
If he continues looking at me this way, I just may latch onto him and not let go. His grin reveals he’s clued in to my thoughts. “Let’s go.”
He reaches for my hand and leads me toward his truck.
We’re silent as he opens the door for me, as it appears we’re both lost in thought. When the engine roars to life, I jolt in my seat. I turn to look out the window, but a warmth spreads from head to toe as Cayden places his hand on my leg softly.
I watch the world pass me by, just like I did when I first arrived. But now, everything is so different. I know why this place called to me because it’s always been home, just how Cayden has been. Not remembering doesn’t seem fair because what I feel for him…to experience a lifetime of that has me realizing that our love is something extraordinary.
“We’re here,” Cayden says, shattering my reflections.
Turning slowly, I peer out the windshield at the huge white house. A longing hits me, not because I recognize it, but because the blossoming lemon tree in the front yard reveals where we are. A breath hitches in my throat as I stare, transfixed at the sight which started this all.
Without thought, I open the door and jump from the truck, needing to get a closer look at my once home away from home. The closer I get, the harder it is to breathe. I’m waiting for my memories to return. But they don’t.
Stopping in front of the white picket fence, I examine my surroundings and hate my surname even more. I can see why Cayden referred to this side of the lake as the “rich” because this house is heavy in riches. Compared to my modest abode, it’s easy to understand why a distinct line was drawn in the sand between Cayden and me.
He stands beside me, allowing me the time to take it all in. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to draw out the memories, but there are none. The only familiarity is through the story Cayden shared with me. “I wish I could remember,” I say, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.
“I wish you could too,” Cayden replies with regret. “But some part of me is glad that you don’t.”
Sighing, I allow the sun in as I open my eyes. I understand his reservations, but I don’t want to be sheltered. That’s all I’ve been this entire time. “Is this weird for you?”
“Weird?” he questions.
With my gaze still fixed on the house, I answer. “Yes. You being here, with me, must bring up old memories, ones which I can imagine aren’t all pleasant. Those memories have been wiped clean for me, but for you”—I rein in the tears—“they still burden you every day.”
“I would do anything to protect you from that pain. So I happily take on the burden. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and free. That’s why I brought you here. It’s time we let go of the past. No more secrets.”
A tear slips free. “What are we going to do?” I ask again, as the question relates to the entire shitstorm we find ourselves in.
“I don’t know, Snow.” I’m terrified, but when Cayden reaches for my hand, it comforts me to know we can be unaware together. “But we will figure it out. Together.”
Turning my chin, I look at him, and an unexpected rush of emotion drowns me. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you.”
“Shh.” He shakes his head, squeezing my hand. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is now. This.”
“I promise you, I won’t make the same mistakes again. I wish I could—” However, I never get to finish my sentence because Cayden swoops forward, stealing the air from my lungs when he kisses me.
Instinctively, I turn into him, wrapping my arms around his nape. I lose myself to his touch, to the way he knows my body better than me. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you here,” he whispers against my lips, his breath warm.
His admission has me standing on tippy-toes to deepen the connection. He moans into my mouth.
