Page 30 of Forever is Now

“Are you okay?” I asked. I had assumed she was another patient waiting to see the neurologist.

But she didn’t seem like she was. There was something about the way she was staring at me.

“Are you Summer?” she asked. “Summer Taylor-Braddon?”

“Who are you?” I asked the woman. She was skinny, leggy, and had gorgeous eyes. Her dark hair was long and sweeping over her shoulder.

“Mia,” she said. “Robert’s wife.”

[Silence for five seconds]

Summer Taylor-Braddon: Okay, so at first, I didn’t really take it in.

I stared at this beautiful woman, and I thought,Okay, who the hell is Robert and why is this important?

Mia was watching me closely, carefully. There was something about her dark eyes that was alluring—like I was iron filings being drawn to a magnet. She shifted her weight a little and her coat fell open. And I saw. I saw her belly.

She was five months pregnant. That was when it hit me.

Robert. Ruari.

“His wife?” I stared at her. “But... but...” I couldn’t get the words out. They just got stuck. Stuck on my tongue, my tongue that suddenly seemed too big for my mouth—and it was still swelling, swelling like her belly, because I blinked and I suddenly saw it: Mia nine months pregnant, Mia giving birth, Mia presenting her baby to Ruari. His baby.

I let out a choking sound.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she said. Her voice was so, so soft. There were dark circles under her eyes. “But I just... I had to come.” She tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. “We’ve been together years.”

Her belly was all I could look at, and suddenly it was like I had x-ray vision too, not just glimpses of the future. Because I could see the child inside there. What it meant.

“I’mhis wife.” At last, I bit out the words. At last, I felt like I could finally say something. “We got married. We...” My face crumpled—I felt it like it happened in slow motion, all the muscles suddenly sagging then growing taut with tension, with despair.

I wanted Ruari back.

I wanted my life back, our life back.

And then Mia—this woman that I suddenly had so much hatred for—put her arms around me. She held me and I didn’t want to be held by her. I didn’t want to be against her belly—against their child—but she held me as I sobbed, and I was just too weak, too exhausted to move.

“We’re not officially married, but we may as well be.” Her tone was cool, and she pulled back from the embrace. Her hand found her bump, and she cradled it.

That should be me.

I gulped in air, too quickly, ended up with hiccups. “He’s my husband.” I held my hand up, showed her the ring. I’d never taken it off. Ever.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she said, and then as quickly as she’d arrived, as she’d sought me out, she left. Just like that.

I watched her leave. Her long coat flapped in the breeze.

He’s with her. He’s got a kid on the way.

[Silence five seconds]

Summer Taylor-Braddon: “It doesn’t matter if he’s lost his memory,” my solicitor told me. “He’s still legally married to you. And he cannot marry Mia Wilson, not without divorcing you first.”

Divorce?

I choked.

“But for the time being, in the eyes of the law, you’re his wife. He is currently undergoing psychiatric evaluations, and depending on the outcomes of those, decisions about his healthcare would come to you if he is not deemed of sound mind.”

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