Some say the truth will set you free. But I must be the exception to that rule because I’ve never felt more imprisoned than I do right now.

“Lucy!” My fiancé, Samuel Stone, lies slumped over in the middle of our yard, his desperation almost palpable as he searches the grounds for answers. It’s as if he’s woken from a slumber and come back to me as the man I once remembered. But his twin brother’s scent lingering on my skin calls attention to the fact I’m no longer the woman I once was.

“Sam, I’m here.” I race over to where he kneels, broken and alone. His head snaps up, his eyes needing a moment to focus on me as it appears he’s still lost in a past he can’t quite recall.

“What’s going on? I don’t…remember.” That word slices through my heart because I do…I remember every single thing.

“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.” Dried blood has collected at his temple and smeared down his neck. He said he fell and hit his head. Was this what triggered him to remember?

Sam continues staring at me as he’s attempting to decode what the hell is going on. “Why is Saxon here?” And just like that, the shitstorm becomes a full-blown tornado, threating to destroy us all.

“I’ll explain everything once we get inside. Come on.” I offer him my hand because I know he won’t be able to make the journey back to our house alone. He looks at it, then back up at me. Sam is nothing short of stubborn—that’s never changed—but he finally slips his fingers through mine.

The moment we make contact, the memories of the past few months slam into me, and the immediate need to withdraw overcomes me. But as I look into Sam’s eyes, the eyes which no longer bear hatred or hostility toward me, I push aside my concerns.

He exhales heavily before rising wearily and coming to a stand before me. He rubs his thumb over my knuckles while searching every inch of my face. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

In some ways, his words aren’t too far off the mark.

“Something’s…different. I can see it. I can feel it.”

Although I’ve entwined my fingers in his, my hand is limp, the connection far from that of a couple who was moments away from saying I do.

The memories are almost too much, so I focus on leading him to the house, needing a moment to gather my thoughts. But he obstinately stands his ground. “There was a time when you told me everything. Now you can’t even look at me.” On cue, I lower my gaze, confirming his claims. “Baby, talk to me. No matter what has happened, we can work through this. I love you.”

I rip my hand from his, unable to stomach his admission. “Sam, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Tell my fiancée I love her?” When I rub the diamond he gave me, I remember all the bitter memories now associated with this ring. I should have given it back weeks ago.

“Let’s go inside,” I repeat, seconds away from breaking. The air is stale, but he finally agrees.

We walk side by side, no longer linked as Sam knows something is horribly wrong. He gives me space, which I appreciate, but I know that reprieve will only last for so long.

When we enter the kitchen, the memories of when I was last in here assault me. I grip the counter, afraid I’m about to keel over. The evidence of last night’s dinner confirms this is really happening. The pots and pans soak in the sink, no doubt thanks to Piper, who did as I asked. No one found us, and for a few blissful hours, I discovered happiness once again. The problem is, I unearthed that happiness in the arms of my fiancé’s twin.

“I-I’ll just grab a few things. I’ll be back.” I don’t wait for Sam to reply.

The moment I make my way down the hallway, I place a hand to my mouth to mute my hollow whimpers. I have to be strong because this is just the beginning. I rummage through the bathroom drawers and gather the first-aid supplies I need.

As I close the medicine cabinet, I peer at my reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. Samuel has come back to me; he’s once again the man I loved with all my heart. But as I brush over the length of my neck—the canvas where Saxon laid a million kisses—I know everything has changed.

Ask her if she still keeps all her kings in the back row.

Saxon’s tattoo is the key to what I’ve been missing, but the sad thing is, I didn’t even know I was living a lie until a few minutes ago. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I see that Sam is right—I do look different because I am different.

With that as my driving force, I quickly pad down the corridor, ready to claim what is mine. Samuel is sitting at the counter, cradling his head in his palms. His posture is that of utter defeat, breaking my heart. “Hey.”

He jerks upward, as if my voice transported him back to the now.

When he slowly turns to look over his shoulder, a ghost of a smile plays on his lips. “Hey.” I’d almost forgotten what being entrapped by that crooked grin felt like. There was a time when I lived for that feeling, but now, I’m just numb.

With a slow pace, I make my way to where he sits and place the items on the counter. My hands tremble, but I steady them. “You said you fell?”

He nods. “Yes, I blacked out in the shower. I remember a splitting pain in my head but not much else.” His bloodied fists remind me of his brutality toward Saxon. No doubt he knows what we did, but what he doesn’t know is why.

Reaching for his hands, I gently place them under the faucet and wash the blood off them. I can’t stand to see the evidence of Saxon’s pain. He hums when I rub my fingers over his knuckles, the warm water washing away his sins. “Samuel…”

“What is it? You can tell me anything.”

I focus on our hands, unable to meet his judgment. “I don’t even know where to st-start,” I confess sadly, on the cusp of hyperventilating.

“How about from the beginning?” The practical Sam has re-emerged.

“How about I get you cleaned up first?” Surely, that’s the right thing to say. Jumping into the deep end so early on seems a little cruel. But Sam is insistent.

“Just tell me.”

Once I’ve cleaned his hands, I turn off the water and dry them with a towel. I’m doing all I can to stall, but how do you sum up the worse experience of your life in just a few words?

“Lucy? Please…” His desperation spurs me on because I know if I were him, I would want to know.

Gathering the courage, I slowly lift my eyes. There is no judgment reflected in Sam’s, only curiosity and…love. I feel sick. “Samuel…the day of our wedding, you got into a car ac-accident.” He pales, but I continue. “It was bad. The doctors weren’t sure if you were going to make it.” I swallow back the memory, and it slithers down my throat like acid. “But you did. You can’t imagine my happiness because I was…so scared of losing you. But Sam, when you woke from the coma, you had amnesia.” I wet my lips. “You had no recollection of…me.”

“What?” He gasps, shaking his head fiercely. “That’s not true.”

“It is true. How I wish it wasn’t, but it is. You remembered some things, some people, but overall, I seemed to have slipped through one of the holes in your memory. And in turn…you hated me. You hated us.”

“Lucy…no.” Tears overcome him, and he doesn’t wipe them away. “How is that even possible? I don’t…I don’t even…no.”

“I asked myself that every day, but the harder I tried to make you remember, the more you pulled away. You were a completely different person. One I didn’t recognize.” A tear rolls down my cheek, but I quickly brush it away. “Saxon…”

He sits upright, horror and anger slashing at his face. “What did he do?”

He’s quick to point fingers, and that irks me beyond belief. “He did everything. He carried me when I was too weak to walk…which was every day since this nightmare started.”

“How long?” he asks, jaw clenched, ignoring the fundamental point of this story.

“How long were you an asshole?” I counter, angered that he’s disregarding everything I’ve just said and decided to focus on the cure and not the cause.

“How long has my brother been fucking my fiancée?” he sneers, slamming his fist onto the counter.

Flinching, I firmly stand my ground, refusing to buckle. “How dare you, Sam. You have no idea, none! You broke my heart time and time again.”

“So in return you decided to break mine?” he heatedly rebukes, standing and kicking back the stool, which topples to the ground with a thud.

“It wasn’t like that.” I attempt to make him see reason because what happened between Saxon and me is the result of Samuel and me growing apart, and the secrets which bound us together. “So much has happened. We both changed.”

“Changed?” he screams, arms out wide. “I had fucking amnesia! I didn’t know who you were, but you knew who I was, Lucy.”

That’s where he’s wrong.

Pulling it together, I level him with nothing but sincerity. “I thought I knew who you were, but I was wrong. You didn’t remember me. You remembered your best friends from high school, even your ex-girlfriend, but when you looked at me…it was through the eyes of a stranger. What does that say about our relationship?”

The fire in Sam begins to simmer. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember you. It’s not like I had a choice. But you, you did, and you chose…” His unfinished sentence confirms what I know is true…I cheated on Sam. And with his identical twin brother nonetheless. But Sam isn’t a saint in this scenario—we’re all sinners.

“I won’t make excuses for my actions. I chose the path I took, as did you.” Here goes nothing. “I know, Samuel… I know everything.” You can hear a pin drop.

I was going to wait to divulge this piece of information, but I won’t stand here and let him call me an adulterous whore because this story has many layers.

Sam doesn’t need me to draw a diagram. His secret is finally out. “He told you?” I nod, too tongue-tied to speak. He interlaces his hands across his nape, peering up at the ceiling as if seeking answers from above. “What a fucking mess.”

As much as I want to discuss this, I know now is not the time. I need to get Sam cleaned up and then call Sophia. Her name forms a lump in my throat. “Let me look at your head, and then I’ll call Sophia.”

“Who is Sophia?” he asks with a sigh.

“She’s your doctor. She can explain everything.”

“I’ve heard enough,” he snaps, running a hand through his tousled hair.

I know this is hard for him, but this isn’t exactly easy for me either. Everything I thought I knew has been turned on its axis, and I don’t even know who I am anymore. The person I loved lied to me. Our entire relationship was based on a lie. Maybe that’s why he didn’t remember me. Our so-called perfection was an echo of what could have been.

“You can hate me after I get you cleaned up.” I reach for the cloth, running it under some water to wipe away his war paint. I’m surprised he allows me to tend to his wounds, seeing as I’ve inflicted an even bigger one on his heart.

I work in silence, the intimacy leaving me winded as our breaths amalgamate as one. This is the first time in so many months he’s permitted me to touch him without cursing my name. “I don’t hate you, Lucy. I can’t,” he reveals, his eyes lowered. “You’re a part of me. You always have been. No matter what you think you know, my love for you has always been real. It’s the reason I did what I did.”

What I think I know? What does that mean?

“We can discuss this later.” I need a minute to clear my head. I’m sure he does too because I’ve just dropped a bombshell. He needs time to process what I’ve just revealed.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” My heart can’t take it any longer, and I sniff back my tears. “Baby, please, talk to me.”

My hands quiver uncontrollably as I wipe his temple, tears welling. He stills my fingers; his touch so familiar yet so foreign all at the same time. “Do you still love me?”

It shouldn’t be such a hard question—I either do, or I don’t.

My answer weighs heavily between us, but I don’t know how I feel. I’ve just been thrown a curveball, and life as I know it has changed forever. I need a minute to breathe.

But Sam presses, just how the old Sam would. “Maybe the better question here is…do you love him?” A tear slips down my cheek, but this time, I don’t wipe it away.

“I…” I never get to answer him, though, or face the truth because my voice of reason speaks for me.

“Sophia is on her way.” The moment my eyes lock with Saxon’s, a small piece of my heart returns.

He stands in the doorway, looking worse for wear, but like the heroic man he is, he plays off his injuries—both physical and emotional. I have no doubt he heard what Sam asked me. Therefore, he also heard my pause, which spoke volumes. I desperately want to reach out, but I don’t. His clenched jaw and folded arms are enough of a reason for me to stay put.

“We’re done here.” I flinch when I realize how my statement could be misconstrued.

I can’t stay in here a second longer. I’m bound to suffocate if I do. Collecting all the supplies, I toss the bloody cloth into the trash. Saxon needs tending to also, but I’m afraid he’ll tell me to go to hell if I offer to help.

His lip is busted open, and his eye has turned a ghastly shade of purple. I can’t even imagine the damage done to his body as the sickening thuds Sam delivered to Saxon’s curled form still assault my brain. “I-I…” I don’t even know what I want to say.

Both brothers look at me as if I have the answers they both desperately seek. But I don’t. I don’t know what comes next. Saxon swallows, the sadness and utter hopelessness submerging me whole. He stands before me, battered and bruised, and it’s all my fault.

My gaze floats to Sam. He too looks broken and so alone. Oh god…what have I done?

I thought nothing could compare to Sam losing his memory, but standing here with both Stone brothers, this pain, this utter confliction I feel is enough to leave me scrambling from the room, hand over mouth, seconds away from being sick.

I make it to the bathroom just in time.

Once I’m done exorcizing myself of this agony, I flush the toilet and splash some water on my pale cheeks. My reflection looks no better than it did a few minutes ago. I peer at myself, wishing the answers were within reach because I have no idea what to do. My head and my heart are torn—split right down the middle.

Whatever decision I make, someone gets hurt by my hand. How can I live with myself, knowing I wounded someone who did nothing but love me with all their heart? The sickness returns, but this time, it’s my guilt scratching at the surface.

A knock on the door has me spinning so quickly, I almost fall to the floor. I want to tell whoever it is to go away because I just need time…

However, when the knocking persists and the door opens slowly, I know time isn’t on my side. “Lucy, it’s me.”

“Piper?” Trapped air whooshes from my lungs as my best friend, Piper Green, peers around the doorway apprehensively before entering the bathroom.

The moment she sees me—arms wrapped around my middle, and my cheeks wet with tears—she rushes forward. “Oh, Lucy. What’s wrong?” The moment she hugs me, all my walls crumble, and I cry ugly, gut-wrenching tears.

“What have I-I d-done?” I sob into her shoulder, unable to keep the tears at bay.

“Shh…it’ll be okay. Whatever it is, we will work it out.” But that’s the problem—I don’t even know where to start.

“I’ve done something terrible…” I confess. Piper waits for me to continue. “I…Saxon and me…” God, how do I come clean without sounding like a gigantic homewrecking whore?

Piper fills in the blanks. “You slept with Saxon?” Closing my eyes, I nod, still comforted in her arms. “And you regret it?”

She’s attempting to complete a puzzle without all the pieces, so I don’t blame her for jumping to that conclusion. My sins bubble to the surface, and I’m fearful for my soul.

Pulling it together, I gently break our embrace, wiping the torrent of tears from my cheeks. There is no judgment on Piper’s face, only utter concern. I know I can tell her anything, but this, this isn’t just anything.

“How did you know to come?”

She brushes my arm. “Saxon called me. He asked me to come as soon as I could. That’s it. What’s going on?”

Of course, he did.

Saxon knows me better than I know myself, so I push down my guilt and anguish and unburden myself from this self-persecution. “The answer to your question is…” Piper nods, urging me to continue. God save my soul. “No, I don’t regret it…and that’s the problem. I should.”

She’s quick to jump to my defense. “You can’t help your feelings. You’re human.” I wouldn’t be so sure.

“Sam remembers,” I interject, placing all my cards on the table. Her mouth parts, her understanding clear. For once in her life, she’s speechless. “Sam remembers, Piper…” I weigh up each word because when I say them, I can’t take them back. “He remembers. It’s what I’ve wished for these past few months. It’s all I wanted. But now that he remembers—” a small piece of my innocence dies “—all I want is for him to forget.”

A small gasp leaves my best friend.

“So, do you still think I’m so human? Because what kind of person would wish that upon the man they were going to marry?”

Piper looks dumbfounded, searching for the right words. But until she knows the whole story, I won’t allow her to comfort me even though I know she will try.

Taking a deep breath, I pull back my shoulders and own up to the mess I’ve made. “I’m in love with Saxon Stone…deeply and irrevocably in love with him… and I don’t know what to do about it.”