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“What are you going to do, Hope? Pretend to be married to him for the rest of your life? All so he doesn’t sue you?”
Admittedly, when she puts it like that it sounds absurd. Still, I’m in a corner here and I don’t know what I’m going to do, I just know I need time to figure things out.
“No, of course not. I just need a few days to—”
“Dig yourself in deeper? This is crazy honey, and before I thought you were just being crazy in your panic. There was no way you could go to jail, but this… honey this damn scheme of yours could actually end with you getting put in prison!”
“How? I’m giving him a place to stay. I’m helping him. I’m not taking anything from him.”
“Okay, fine. So maybe you won’t be thrown in jail, but you could definitely be sued for this. Do you think he’s just going to remarkably change his character when his memory comes back? This is crazy!”
“Dar, don’t you understand? I don’t have a choice!”
“Honey, you do have a choice. You can end this now, before you dig yourself a hole that you can’t get out of.”
“I already have,” I tell her softly, opening up the door to leave. “Can you bring Jack to me this afternoon?”
“I can…I don’t know what you have planned in that head of yours, but I will.”
“I’m just trying to survive Dar,” I answer, leaning on the door. “I’m just trying to survive.”
I close the door before she can respond. I think I’m mostly afraid of what she will say. She’s right, I know she is. If I confess everything to Aden, will he sue me? Probably. Will he press charges against me and try to have me arrested? I want to say no, but despite what I told Daria, there’s a big part of me that thinks he will. Which leaves me… right where I’m at. Going to the hospital to pick my husband up and bring him home.
God help me.
twenty-three
aden
“We live here?” I ask Hope when we pull up to the motel. I had no preconceived notions—or at least I thought I didn’t—but, I didn’t expect a motel that looks like a mom and pop place from the 1950’s.
Again, it’s frustrating that I can picture something like that in my head easily, and yet can’t remember what I had for breakfast four days ago. About the only thing that’s keeping me sane right now is Hope.
She turns the car off and I watch her from the corner of my eye. She stiffens at my words. She’s obviously proud of this dump. Maybe it’s because it was in her family; that’s the only reason I can come up with as to why.
“It may not look like much, but it felt like home after the mess of Indiana.”
“Indiana? Is that where we’re from? We just picked up and moved? What do I do for a living?”
“Uh…You help me.”
“Help you?”
“Yeah. You help me with repairs here and getting this place ready. We were supposed to open the day after your fall, but—”
“I don’t have a real job?”
“Running the motel is a real job,” she defends.
“Jesus. Maybe I can’t remember shit about my life because I’m a fucking loser who lives off his old lady.”
“Old lady?”
“My woman, my wife, you know… old lady.”
“Umm…I’m not old and I don’t particularly like being called your woman.”
“What did I call you before the accident?”
Her nose scrunches as she thinks for a minute and I have to say that’s adorable. I’m starting to think I was a loser. All signs are pointing to it, but apparently I at least had good taste in women, because Hope is a fox. She’s got this long caramel colored hair, these amazing tits that I’ve been dying to squeeze in my hands since the moment she leaned over my hospital bed. Her ass is just as luscious, too. The kind a man could throw over the bed, pull up in the air and plow into balls deep. Which actually brings another thought to mind.
“You called me darling,” she answers, and I frown this time.
“Darling?” I repeat, the word foreign on my lips.
“Yep.”
“What was our sex life like?”
“Anyway, we should get out and— Our what?”
“Our sex life. What was it like?”
“We uh…well, I mean, it was okay… good…I guess… We don’t really have sex that often.”
“We don’t have sex?”
“Not a lot no…”
“Why the hell not?”
“Well…”
“Are you cold?”
“No, it’s kind of warm in here actually. We should go outside and—”
“I didn’t mean that, I meant are you a cold fish? Do you hate sex?”
“Why do you assume our lack of sex is an issue with me?”
“Because, it’s always the woman’s issue.”
“It’s always the woman’s…. How do you even say something like that? You don’t even know your own name!” she huffs and she’s getting upset now. I can tell by the way heat is rising in her face.
