Grace

“We’re married?” My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets after Travis gives me the news.

Travis gives me a wide grin from his chair across the room. “I know, I know, it’s too good to be true. Even I can’t believe it sometimes.”

I shake my head. “I would have remembered.”

“Um, you can’t remember anything from the last seven years, remember? You hit your head when you fell out of a tree.”

Right. My memory isn’t reliable at the moment. Still…

I keep shaking my head. “You’re kidding. This is another cruel joke.”

“A joke?” He lifts his hands. “Is that what you think of our marriage? I’m offended.”

I say nothing as I walk towards the window with my hands on my hips.

Really? I’m married? And to this guy? This… hunk?

Impossible.

Then again, I’ve just learned that seven years have passed of which I have no memory, so impossible is a bit of a flexible concept right now.

Still, I got married?

I glance at my empty finger. “Where’s my wedding ring, then?”

“Um, we pawned our rings,” Travis answers.

He holds up his hand for me to see.

“See, I don’t have my ring, either.”

My eyebrows bunch up. “Who pawns their wedding rings?”

“Us.” He folds his arms over his chest. “We’re not exactly rich, sweetheart.”

I look at my hand again. Well, I do have the mark from a ring, though not on the ring finger.

“My ring…”

“We exchanged rings and mine was too big for you,” Travis explains.

I glance at my wrists and hold them up. “And these marks?”

He gives me a mischievous grin. “Do you really want me to explain in detail?”

I blush and hide my hands behind me.

Wait. I’m into that? No way.

I narrow my eyes at Travis. “You expect me to believe you?”

“You certainly vowed to at the altar.”

My eyebrows furrow as I place my hands on my hips. “I didn’t know the words ‘I promise to believe you’ were included in wedding vows.”

“We made our own,” Travis tells me.

“Really?” I place my hands on my hips. “And what exactly did I say?”

He sits back and shrugs. “Do you honestly expect me to remember our wedding vows? Heck, I can’t even remember to put down the toilet seat, which you always scold me for, by the way.”

I can imagine that.

“And yet you remember that I promised to believe you?”

“What? You’re not the only one with a selective memory.”

I frown.

“Where did we meet?”

“What?” His eyebrows go up.

I sit on the edge of the bed. “Tell me how we met. Or have you forgotten that, too?”

“No. I remember it like it was yesterday.”

I lean forward. “And?”

“It was at a cafe.”

A cafe?

“I, um, walked in and I… ordered coffee, and you jotted it down.”

“And?”

“You brought my coffee. It was the best cup I’d ever had. Just the right amount of sugar.”

My eyes narrow. “And we started dating after?”

“No, no.” Travis shakes his head. “I asked for your number and you wouldn’t give it.”

I feel confused. “You asked for my number just because I made you an excellent cup of coffee, which was probably part of my job?”

“You had the most stunning eyes I’d ever seen,” he says. “Still do.”

In spite of myself, I blush.

“Plus, you looked good in that apron you were wearing.”

Apron? I don’t remember ever wearing an apron at work, unless they changed the uniform, which I doubt.

“Wasn’t I wearing overalls?” I ask.

“Overalls, apron, same thing. Fashion’s your thing, not mine.”

I roll my eyes. Men.

He did say something right, though—that fashion is my thing. That’s one thing I remember.

I shift my legs. “What happened next?”

“You weren’t into dating, you said,” he goes on. “But I’m no quitter. I kept going to that cafe until you finally gave me your number.”

“What’s my number?” I ask him.

His eyebrows crease. “Sorry, but I don’t remember. You swore off phones even before we moved to Hope Creek.”

“Hope Creek?”

“This town.”

“Oh.”

Come to think of it, no one’s told me that.

“I swore off phones? Why would I do that?”

“Because having a phone made you sad. It reminded you that your family was gone.”

My heart stops. “My family’s gone?”

No. My Mom? My Dad? Katie? They’re… gone?

Travis stands up and sits beside me. “I’m sorry, Grace, but yes, your family’s gone.”

I turn to him with wide eyes. “How?”

“Accident.”

“Even Katie?”

Travis nods.

I clasp my hand over my mouth as I try to digest the shocking news. Then I walk over to the wall and beat it with a fist before resting my forehead on it.

“Come here.” Travis grabs my shoulders and pulls me into his arms.

I don’t fight him. I don’t have the strength. I simply press my cheek against his chest, and for the first time, I become aware of his scent. It’s the scent of sweat and something earthy, maybe his cologne.

I close my eyes.

It smells good. And this feels good.

In his strong arms and against his broad chest, I feel my sadness gradually slipping away. They make me feel comfortable, safe, less alone.

How many times has he held me like this?

At that thought, a blush coats my cheeks and I pull away.

I know he’s held me before. I know we’ve probably had sex, as married couples do, but in my mind, I’m still a virgin.

“Are you alright?” Travis asks.

“I’m fine.” I fold my arms beneath my breasts and rub them. “I’ve just had enough shock for the day.”

It’s one thing to learn you’ve just lost your memories from the last seven years. It’s another to learn you’ve lost your entire family.

Travis nods. “I understand. There’s no need to rush. We can continue this at home for as long as we have to.”

My eyebrows arch. “Home?”

~

The steps leading up to the front porch creak beneath the sneakers Nancy lent me. At the top of them, I pause to look at the swing, which is sitting still without a breeze to rock it. I close my eyes as I try to remember sitting there, but nothing comes to me. I frown.

Is this really my home?

Something warm and wet swipes against the back of my hand and I look down into the deep brown eyes of a golden retriever.

Toby. That’s what Travis said his name was.

“Hey.” I pat his head. “You know this place better than I do now, huh?”

He just looks up at me.

Travis holds the front door open. “Well, aren’t the two of you going to come in?”

I take a deep breath and enter the house.

The first thing I see is the living room. There’s a teal couch, a red armchair, a wooden coffee table atop a rug, and a TV mounted on the wall below a clock and above a small rack.

It’s quaint, but…

“Are you sure we live here?” I ask Travis. “Because I’d never allow teal and red to go together.”

He chuckles. “And I happen to like the color combination. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you don’t always get your way here.”

“Oh.”

“That’s the dining room, which we only use at Christmas,” Travis points to the adjacent room, which has a rectangular table and six chairs, as well as a dusty chandelier and a dish cabinet.

“And that’s the kitchen.”

I peek inside the door that Travis just gestured to and see a wooden counter in the middle of the room with pots and pans hanging above it. I see cupboards above the sink and the stove as well, along with the fridge and two doors, one that must be to the pantry and another that seems to lead to the backyard.

“Shall we go upstairs?” Travis asks.

I nod and follow him up the flight of stairs, which creak just like the front steps. At the top, I see a corridor covered in a worn carpet with doors on both sides and at the end.

I start to go down it, but Travis grabs my arm. “Those are just guest bedrooms and a bathroom that’s not working.”

“Oh.” I step back but look at the door far ahead. “And the room at the end?”

“Storage.” Travis says in a serious tone. “It’s locked and the key has been lost forever.”

I glance at him and see a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. Is it just my imagination, or does it seem like he’s hiding something in that room?

He leads me up another flight of stairs to the attic.

It’s just one big room with a canopied bed in the middle, a bookshelf against a wall and a rocking chair and a lamp on either side of the fireplace with a bean bag on the rug between them. Toby settles beside the bean bag.

“This is where we sleep,” Travis announces.

My eyebrows arch. Really?

It’s not a bad room. I like it, actually. But I don’t see any signs that this is a couple’s room, apart from the matching rocking chairs.

I go into the restroom and see just one toothbrush beside the sink.

“Are you sure I sleep here?” I ask him as I glance over my shoulder. “Because I don’t see my toothbrush.”

“You threw yours out,” Travis says. “You were about to get a new one.”

“Oh.” I glance at the towel hanging on the rack. “And my towel?”

“We share.”

I blush but try to hide it as I open the closet. To my disappointment, I see only jeans, sweaters, shirts and briefs.

“Where are my clothes?” I ask.

“Oh. They’re downstairs,” Travis explains. “They wouldn’t fit in the closet.”

I narrow my eyes at the limited closet space. I guess I can understand that.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” Travis offers as he goes back to the stairs.

“I’ll go with you,” I tell him as I follow him.

He goes back to the second floor and into one of the rooms. He opens the closet there and starts to rummage through it.

“I’ll pick my own clothes, thank you,” I say.

He stops, silent for a moment. Then he nods and walks out of the room with a frown.

Confusion washes over me. What did I do to put him in a bad mood?

~

Travis still seems to be in a bad mood in the evening as he grabs a blanket from the top of the closet in the attic. In fact, he barely spoke all through dinner.

“Is something wrong?” I finally ask him as I sit on the edge of the bed.

“Nope,” he answers as he grabs a pillow.

“Then where are you going?” I ask him. “I thought this is where we sleep.”

“This is where we used to sleep,” he says. “But given the fact that you don’t remember me, it’s not a good idea to share a bed, is it?”

My eyebrows furrow. “It’s not?”

He plumps the pillow in his hands. “Do you really want to have sex with me even though you can’t remember me? Because I’ve never been good at keeping my hands off you, and once I start, there’s no stopping me.”

My eyes grow wide in surprise as my cheeks grow warm.

“I don’t…”

“I thought so.” He heads to the stairs. “Good night.”

He disappears from sight and I climb into bed.

Is that why he’s grouchy all of a sudden? Because he knows we can’t have sex? Or is he trying to act cold towards me so that he won’t feel like trying?

I shrug, then pull the covers up to my chin as I stare at the canopy. As I do, Travis’s words flood back into my mind.

I’ve never been good at keeping my hands off you, and once I start, there’s no stopping me.

Without warning, an image pops up with them—his large hands on my skin, all over my skin…

I shake my head and pull the covers over my head.

Stop it, Grace, I scold myself.

Travis may be good-looking, and he may even be your husband, but you don’t know him. You can’t just spread your legs for him.

Even as I say that, though, I feel something tingle between my legs at the very thought. I turn on my side while squeezing my thighs tightly shut.

A woman with a brain that can’t remember what it should and a body that acts the way it shouldn’t.

I’m such a mess, aren’t I?