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“Stop. How do I know what’s true if you keep lying?”

He sighs. I know what that means. He’s disappointed that I don’t remember. “You will remember, Grace. I have faith. You had a dress, but I’m not gonna tell you about it because it was so beautiful and perfect you won’t believe me.” He sighs again and then he turns his head so he can gaze at me sidelong. “I can’t do it justice. You need to see it in your own memories.”

“But where is it? I was wearing a little white cotton nightie when I woke up. Did I get married in that?”

“No,” he says sadly.

God, it hurts me that my memory lapse is affecting him so hard.

“No, we picked that out from the lingerie shop. Carl was with us.” He laughs at that and so do I. I’m not sure why. “Poor Carl. I bet he gets a fat raise for putting up with me that night. I made him open the pool—”

“The pool?”

“I’m not saying another word. If you don’t remember, you don’t deserve to hear it from me. But you did demand a hundred underwater candles.”

“What?”

“One hundred. And you wanted to count them.” He laughs a little harder at that one.

“I don’t even know what an underwater candle is.”

“Well”—he kisses me, still laughing into my mouth—“that wish was not granted. But your list was long, baby. So I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“I had a wish list? That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“I know. I loved that drunk Grace had grabby hands for so many things.”

“So the dress?”

His fingertips touch my lips and I open my mouth, my tongue darting out automatically. “Nah,” he says under his breath. “Nah. I don’t want to spoil it. I want you to remember all on your own.”

I think I make him sad. And it kills me. I want to remember so bad.

“It’s OK, sweets. It’s OK. I’ll wait. Now close your eyes. Enjoy the sunshine. Enjoy the peace. Let’s just float.”

And we do. We float down River Asher and my whole body just sighs with satisfaction. I think I relax. Really relax, for the first time in… well, ten years.

The masked man is dead. And yeah, I get that I’m fucked up. I understand now. Vaughn was right about that. I need help.

But not today. Today all I need is Vaughn. That’s it. One man who knows me. Who loves me. “I’m glad we’re married, Mr. Asher.”

“Mmm. Me too, Mrs. Asher. Me too.”

I fall asleep after that. And I dream. I dream of Bellagio fountains and underwater candles, and wedding dresses. Blue wedding dresses. I dream of cotton eyelet lace nighties with pink bows and bottles of champagne. I dream of the white sheepskin rug and making love to Vaughn, the soft fur against my back, under my knees, pressing against my stomach. In my dream, we have sex so many times on that rug, I lose count.

Sometimes later, after the sun goes down because the trance-inducing warmth evaporates, I wake. Cooled and refreshed, but in pain. After all this, Vaughn carries me to his bedroom. I wince from the throbbing in my leg, my pain pills forgotten as we were floating.

Vaughn feeds me the little white tablets with a bottle of cold frappuccino and that drags me back to dreamland. The sheets are cool and the air-conditioning gives me enough of a chill to make me reach for the fluffy down comforter.

I’m growing used to the heat of a man next to me at night.

I never want this to end. I want to keep Vaughn Asher forever. I want more than anything to remember the night he promised to be mine.

But tonight is not my night for that. Tonight is just the first step towards healing.

Chapter Four

#GoingDownTogether

GRACE sleeps, but I don’t. I lie there with her for about thirty minutes, my mind on the time.

Twenty-four hours was all I had before my deadline expires. Twenty-four hours of perfection. I have my wife in my house. She’s safe. She’s even happy. Still denying herself memories of our wedding night, but I have a feeling they will come back soon. I have a feeling that the reality she twisted to help her cope with her abduction as a teen is somehow mixed up with giving herself to me.

I’m patient. With Grace, at least.

I throw the covers off and get out of bed. I dress quietly in the closet before walking into the living room. I press Ray’s number in my contacts and wait for him to answer.

“Looks good, boss,” he says as he picks up. “No action outside at all.”

“OK, you stand by and Bigmy stays in the house.”

I end the call and go out to the back yard. Bigmy and I cross paths as we exchange places, him taking up watch in the house while I go down to the security building. There’s a path on the other side of the pool that leads down the hill. It’s banked on both sides by thick green foliage. I never showed Grace this side of the property. Not because I want it to be secret that I own so many lots on this hill. I just never had the chance.

I make my way down the winding path until I come to a small stucco building. I open the door and the cool air washes over me. “Hey,” I say to Ray. He looks like shit. But he won’t go home until this is settled, even if I tell him to. He’s my number one guy. He takes care of the number one priority and he always takes care of it himself. He’ll sleep here if he has to. And the overnight bag on the floor near the door tells me he has to.

“I’m ready for you. You have thirty-two minutes until your twenty-four hours are up. Should we wait till the last one?”