Читать книгу When I'm With You - Donna Hill - Страница 15

Chapter 4

Even after all the time that had gone by, and Miami, Florida, had become her home for the past sixteen years, she still kept up with the news from Louisiana and DC, and of course New York City, from her online subscriptions. It helped in her ongoing recovery to read about things that were once so familiar to her. There were still, even now, parts of her life that she could not distinguish between reality or a false memory. But the one thing she knew for certain was that she had been deeply and irrevocably in love. Now he was in love with someone else, marrying someone else.

His smile still made her soul shift, her heart beat just a little faster. She ran her finger across his face on her computer screen. He looked happy, truly happy...without her.

She lifted her hand and touched the scar that ran the length of her forehead, which she covered with bangs or innovative hairstyles. The burns she’d sustained on her legs had healed well, and were barely noticeable anymore. Some days when the pain was really bad she used a cane, but most of the time the medication the doctor prescribed worked.

She tilted her head to the side, studied the image from an angle. His fiancée was beautiful in an understated way. A part of her knew that she needed to let him and the past go. But the part of her that remembered what her life had been like with him wouldn’t let her. He was the only thing from that time that she truly remembered. Them. The two of them against the world. The memory anchored her, kept her from losing the last vestiges of herself and falling into a dark hole of a manufactured past.

Sixteen years is enough time to move on. Rafe clearly did. She had for the most part. It was best—at least that’s what her parents had told her. She’d believed them even though much of what their relationship had been was more mist than substance. The fact that she’d survived at all was a miracle, the doctors said, and memory loss was the price that she paid for her survival. She’d done years of physical therapy, rounds of plastic surgery, seen countless specialists, but most of her life prior to that day was hazy at best. Except for Rafe Lawson. He was the only constant.

She longingly studied his picture before closing the cover of the computer. Much of what her life could have been was ripped from her, her body altered, her memory stolen. For years she’d been at the mercy of doctors and therapists and her parents, and bit by bit she began to create a new life. But she had to go back into the past. She owed it to herself and to Rafe. He loved her first and seeing her again would make him remember.