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Chase didn’t respond when I finished.
Just watched me as long minutes came and went in excruciating silence.
And somehow, that silence and his masked fury terrified me. Like I was at risk of losing him because of our past. Like I hadn’t already been losing him for weeks.
“That why you aren’t a physical therapist anymore?” he finally asked, voice gruff. “Because of us?”
My already wrecked body nearly convulsed with the force of the chill that shot through me. “That isn’t something I’m telling you. Not now. Not like this.”
“But you said I know,” he murmured, confirming what I’d told him last week.
“You knew.”
He nodded slowly before asking, “Did your life implode? Your family?”
“For a little while,” I admitted. “They were so angry with me and wanted nothing to do with you.”
His eyebrows rose at that and his head slanted. “Is it still like that?”
“No, they adore you,” I assured him. “They live in Fresno, but they came down those first days after your accident. They’ve been worried about you.”
“And your ex?” The question left him on a rumbled growl. “You still talk to him?”
“No,” I said sharply as that chill threatened to consume me. “You were the last one to see him.”
A cruel smirk stole across his face. “And how did that go?”
“You never told me, and I never asked,” I said honestly, surprising him with the answer.
And I realized at his stunned reaction that he believed me. He’d questioned my actions and morals but hadn’t once questioned any of what I’d told him. For the first time, he hadn’t immediately denied our past.
He’d even accepted that part of his memories was from us.
Maybe. Possibly.
“I had my assumptions, but the entire situation was...well, it was sensitive,” I finished on a whisper, intently studying his expression.
“Clearly,” he muttered, then ran a hand over his face in agitation. “My memories still feel real to me.”
My shoulders sagged, but before I could respond, he continued.
“But I had Harper alone.” He pushed from his place against the counter and came back to where he’d left me, muttering, “I had her right in front of me and I never wantedthis,” as he did. Effortlessly stepping between my legs and slipping his large hand around my waist.
Eyes roaming my face and dipping over my body. Making my chest’s movements become more exaggerated as his stare broke me open. Left me feeling bare and vulnerable and beautiful in this paradox of a moment.
Because, once again, this was a man who had looked at me thousands of times. Who knew every part of me intimately.
But the eyes that had been reluctantly drawn to me this week were from a stranger. The stare that was on me now was from a man who was enraptured with a woman he didn’t know.
“I never had the urge to kiss her,” he went on as his gaze fell to my mouth. “My heart didn’t fucking race like I wasn’t the one in control of it. I just kept thinking that I wanted my life back.” Grabbing my hand, he lifted it to his chest and placed it over the frantic pounding of his heart. “All I think about,” he whispered as his forehead fell to mine. “But those memories, Scar...”
“They’re us.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But they tell me I’m in love with someone else.”
“And this?” I asked tightly as I pressed my hand against his chest.
His head moved against mine in a subtle nod. “Looks like I’m the one who’s trapped this time.”
