Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“Tell me.”
“I was afraid you’d be gone.”
I rubbed her back, desperate to warm her. Her skin was frozen.
“I’m right here.” I pulled her close, dropping a heavy kiss onto her forehead. “Why are you out in this storm? You hate storms.”
“You know that,” she sobbed.
“Yes.”
Her voice was incredulous. “You know me.”
“Yes.”
She cupped my face. “I know you,” she breathed.
My heart hammered in my chest. “What?”
She opened her clenched hand, and light glinted on the silver chain she was holding. Attached was the nightingale pendant—the first gift I’d sent her.
“I remember you.” Another sob escaped her lips. “I remember us.”
Thunder rumbled as I stared at her. “Say that again.”
“You. Me. Us. I remember us, Adam.”
My throat was so constricted, only one word came out. I tightened my hands on her skin, frantic to know this was real. I had to know I was awake and not dreaming this moment. “How?”
“After you kissed me and I ran, I was so upset…”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She shook her head furiously. “No. You don’t understand. I wasn’t upset that you kissed me. I was upset because how it made me feel. I was so guilty.”
“Why?”
“I should have been angry with you. I should have pushed you away and told you off. I’m engaged. I belong to someone else—”
It was my turn to shake my head. “No,” I growled, interrupting her. “You belong to me.”
“I’m so confused,” she whispered. “You left me. You never came back…”
“No, I did. I came back. You were taken from me.” I drew in a deep breath. “I don’t understand everything that happened, but somehow, someone split us up. I didn’t think you wanted me anymore.”
“I don’t understand.” She gripped her hair and shook her head. “There was an accident…”
“I know. And we’ll figure everything out. Together, we’ll put the pieces together, and we’ll find the answers.”
“My mother and Ronald—were they…?” She left the question in midair.
“Yes. I’m certain they had something—” I drew in a deep breath “—everything, to do with this.”
“I’m sorry.” She clasped my hand. “I remember they didn’t like you. But I never thought—” Her eyes met mine. “Bradley?”
“He’s involved too. And we’ll get to the bottom of it. But this isn’t your fault,” I insisted. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
“My head kept aching. I couldn’t relax, and the storm was bothering me. Little things kept coming into my head. Flashes, I guess. I kept seeing this place, but different. I saw you taking my picture. I heard your voice telling me you loved me and calling me your Nightingale. I saw picnics on the floor over there.” She pointed to the middle of the room. “I remembered being in your bed.” She rubbed her temples. “I thought I was going crazy—I didn’t know if the flashes were real or if they were something I was dreaming up. I had this feeling I was standing at the edge of a cliff and my next step would either send me over or save me.”
I pressed the mug to her lips. “Another sip.” When I had gotten more hot liquid in her, I set it down and clasped my hands around hers. “Keep going.”
“I needed to do something—concentrate on anything but the pain in my head and the thoughts I kept having. My feet were cold, and I found a pair of socks in a box that was overlooked. I decided to empty it out and see what was inside. My mother had told me it was just some clothes, so I hadn’t bothered to look before now. But at the bottom of it, I found this little box, wrapped in my dad’s T-shirt. I remember wrapping it up before I went away and tucking it into the drawer for safekeeping.” Her forehead furrowed. “It was a carved, wooden one—with a nightingale on it.”
“Yes.” I nodded in encouragement. “I sent that to you.”
She nodded. “I kept looking at it, and I started to remember things. I opened the box, and inside was everything. The necklaces, the small, lacquered case. I even had the little painted tile on my bedside table. I took it with me everywhere—it meant something special, I just didn’t know what. Things you had sent or given me.” She touched her earlobes, where the diamonds I had given her still glimmered. “I could never take these out. I had no idea why they were so important, but they were.” A tear ran down her face. “And it all came back. All the months I was missing. The memories.” Her voice started to quiver. “And every single one of those missing moments was filled with you.”
Our gazes locked, and I saw it all. Her beautiful eyes were swimming with feelings—the ones I had missed seeing all these months: understanding, acceptance, and love.