Page 92 of Mistaken Intention

“Who says it has to end?”

“No-one. But after what happened earlier – about my phone and my frustrations – I want you to know, if the price I have to pay for keeping you here is never getting my memory back, then I’ll pay it.”

I move closer to him, raising my leg and wrapping it around his. “No, Drew. I don’t want that for you. I want you to remember.”

“So do I. But what I’m trying to say is, if I had to choose between you and my past… or you and my life as it used to be, then I’d choose you. Every. Single. Time.”

Tears well in my eyes, and even though he can’t see me, it’s like he knows they’re there and he holds me tighter. “You can’t say that. You don’t know what you’re sacrificing.”

“I know I love you. I know I want to spend forever loving you.”

“Forever?” I can’t help smiling.

“Yes. Forever. Although how our kids are gonna feel about having the most forgetful father in history is anyone’s guess.”

My smile fades, my dreams shatter, crumbling to dust in that one brief sentence.

“K—Kids?”

“Yeah. I love you so much, I can’t imagine not being a family with you… not having children with you. I don’t know if that’s something I ever considered before, and I don’t care. It’s something I want with you, Josie. It feels right.”

Oh, God… this isn’t a dream. It’s my worst nightmare.

I can’t answer him. I don’t have the words. Luckily, because I’m lying on my side, my tears fall onto the pillow, so he doesn’t notice them when he leans in and kisses me, his lips skimming over mine.

“I’m not pressuring you.” He leans back, clearly noticing my silence. “There’s no rush. I’m just putting it out there.”

I nod my head, knowing he expects a response, and it’s the best I can do. If I speak, he’ll hear the emotion in my voice. He’ll ask questions. And I don’t have any answers.

He settles down, getting comfortable, holding me against him, and although I’m so tense my muscles are aching even more than they were before, I lie still and wait… and wait…

Within a few minutes, his breathing changes and I know he’s asleep.

There’s no chance of sleep for me, though, and I can’t just lie here, living yet another lie. Not this time. It’s too much.

I slip out of his grip, sliding from the bed and I stand for a moment, getting my bearings, deciding where the door is, and then, treading on my tiptoes, I sneak out of the room.

The hall isn’t so dark. There are no drapes covering the windows and the moonlight floods in, so I can see the open door to my bedroom and I cross over to it, closing it softly behind me and switching on the lights.

My bed is a mess. We didn’t re-make it earlier, and the pillows are scattered, the covers screwed up and pushed off of the edge. I pull them back, straightening them, and return the pillows to their rightful place, destroying the physical evidence of what happened in here today. That won’t help me forget it. I can’t. But I don’t want to face it at the moment. I don’t want to think about how unfair this is.

Drew wants children. He just said so. And why wouldn’t he? It makes perfect sense that it would feel ‘right’ to him. He’s already a father, even if he doesn’t know it. But as for us being a family? That’s the one thing we can’t have. It’s the one thing I can’t give him. And it’s the one secret I wish I hadn’t had to keep, above all the others.

I hadn’t realized it would mean so much to him. Let’s face it, Maisie’s conception was hardly intentional. But it seems I got that wrong. He wants this, and I can’t deny him his future… especially not when he’s still wrestling with his past.

I wander to the closet and pull out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, finding some underwear in the dresser. It only takes a few minutes to get dressed, and once I’m done, I grab my bag from the bottom of the closet, dumping it on the bed and filling it with my things. I don’t fold them, or take any care in packing them. I just load up my bag, and once it’s done, I slip on my shoes and check I haven’t left anything behind. Obviously, I have, because my shorts and top are in Drew’s room, but that’s where they’ll have to stay. I daren’t risk going in there, in case I wake him… and I can live without them.

Even if I’m not sure I can live without him.

Still… what choice do I have?

I grab my bag, switching off the lights, and haul it down the stairs, taking care to make as little noise as possible. At the bottom, I pick up my purse from the living room, check my phone is inside, and quietly open the front door.

There’s a slight chill in the air, the wind catching my hair, stinging at my eyes as I let the tears fall, but I close the door anyway, and lug my bag down the path toward the main house. I won’t be going in there, but I need to follow the path in the moonlight, and then join the main driveway that leads to the gates.

Hunter explained how the gates work on the day we arrived, so I know a cab won’t be able to get in without someone granting them access. That means my only choice is to walk the length of the driveway and exit through the small side gate. Like the main gate, it needs someone to let you in from the main house, but there’s a button on the wall that you can press to get out… thank God.

The plan comes to me with a cool logic, born of the need to get away, and I trudge along, putting one foot in front of the other, not looking up or back, until I reach my destiny. The gate opens with a creak, but I’m far enough away from the buildings and the people sleeping in them not to worry, and once I’m outside, I look up the number for a local 24-hour cab company.

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