Page 80 of Forget Me Not

“I’ve picked her up off the bathroom floor too many times; seen too many tears in her eyes. I can’t do it again.”

I don’t move, listening to Will. He’s right. Fuck, he’s right. Judging by the heavy silence that falls, I don’t believe he’s told anyone else what he just said to me. A sinking feeling fills my gut, like I’m on a boat in the dark as night waters of the Atlantic, sinking to the bottom some two miles down. No way back to the surface.

“Just . . . think about it. “

“She deserves the best,” I murmur, not even realizing I’ve said it as I watch the light come on in the bedroom upstairs.

“She does,” Will agrees, following my gaze. “Maybe you can be that for her, but if not . . . I trust you’ll know when to cut it off.”

“Will. Tell me this.” Fuck, I can’t believe I’m asking this, but I need to know. “Did Jack die?”

Will looks like he’s seen a ghost. Fuck, on this old island, maybe he has.

“Jack didn’t survive that crash into the Mississippi, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Fuck. I feel the weight of the world crash down on me, like I’m a thousand feet beneath the water.

Fuck.

So that’s what happened, then. She didn’t tell me the whole truth last night and though part of me is pissed off, I know why she didn’t.

Does she miss him when we’re together? Was she thinking of him when I had my fingers buried inside her?

Am I going insane, chasing thoughts of a man who’s dead because we love the same woman?

Fuck me. Not love. This is an obsession. Not love. The moment we separate, I’ll think of her, but I’ll move on. So will she. That’s not love.

Love doesn’t exist. It’s just fairytale bullshit people make up, so they have an excuse to stop trying. They shackle themselves together because it’s easier than really living life. It’s holiday scams and cheap hearts and cards. It’s damn sure, not for me.

My chest aches thinking about leaving Nova in a puddle of tears on the bathroom floor. Can I really cut it off? Walk away as if none of this ever happened?

“Yes, sir.”

Will gives me a kind smile and nods off into the distance. “Well, I suppose it’s time to hit the hay. Sounds like the wife’s got big plans for the morning.”

“Yeah, I should be getting to bed, too.”

The fire has died down and all that remains are a few red-hot coals and some ash at the bottom of the pit.

“Thanks for talking with me,” Will says, patting me on the shoulder before he stands and heads into the house in search of his wife.

I don’t say anything. I can’t. I’ve dug myself in too deep and now, it’ll be hell to claw back out before this turns sour.

Because where I’m concerned, it always does.

Nova Fischer may feel like she was made for me . . . but at the end of the day, she will always belong to someone else.

Even if he’s just the ghost that haunts her nightmares, now.

“So, here are the linens.” I thrust a fresh set of the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets into Mom’s arms and search for the pillowcases. “Oh, and they’re infused with lavender to help you fall asleep easier. I know Dad can’t sleep away from home.”

Mom nods, her eyes scanning the house and looking everywhere but at me. There’s a new tension in the air, now that we’re alone, that threatens to steal my breath away. Mom is rarely quiet and when she is . . . let’s just say, it’s never good.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” I ask after the silence becomes unbearable. I can’t escape the feeling she didn’t pull me into the house for over-priced sheets.

“I like Reid.”

Here we go.

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