Page 59 of Mistaken Intention

“It’s not the practicalities of looking after Maisie that are the problem for Livia, it’s the fact that we’re trying to start a family ourselves, and it’s not working. The disappointment of that was hard enough before, but having to look after someone else’sbaby when it seems she can’t have one of her own is breaking Livia apart. She wants to help Drew, but having to watch her go through this is… is killing me, inch by inch, every minute of the day.”

I know only too well how Livia feels, and even if I’m not about to tell him that, I pull my seat a little closer to his desk. “How long have you been trying?”

“Since the New Year.” He smiles, although it doesn’t touch his eyes. “At least, that’s when Livia came off her birth control pills. You might hear it mentioned that we only got married in February, but we talked things through and decided we wanted to start a family, and she may as well stop taking the pill straight away. Livia used to have problems with her periods being irregular, so we figured we’d give ourselves a head start, and if she was pregnant when we walked down the aisle, we didn’t mind in the least.”

“She has irregular periods?”

“Not anymore,” he says, rolling his eyes. “They’re as regular as clockwork now… worst luck.”

“Hmm… that can sometimes happen. Unfortunately, a doctor would tell you it’s still early days, even though I know it doesn’t feel like that to you.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry – again – but there’s nothing I can do to speed up the process with Drew. It’s impossible for me to make him remember his life any faster. I’m gonna go back to doing some more cognitive exercises now he’s settled into the cottage, but to be honest, they’re more about helping with his short-term memory problems than his amnesia.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting you to solve all my problems, and I’m grateful for everything you’re doing.”

I wish he wouldn’t keep thanking me. It makes me feel awkward. “Can I ask a question?” I say.

“Sure.”

“Does Drew have a camera here?”

He thinks for a moment. “I imagine so. He has them everywhere. Why do you wanna know?”

“Because he was asking me if he was a photographer.”

Hunter’s eyes spark to life. “Was that a memory?”

“No. He’d noticed all the photographs on the walls and the shelves at the cottage and asked if he’d taken them.”

His face pales. “Oh… should we have removed the pictures of Maisie? There are quite a few dotted around the house.”

“I noticed, but to be honest, it’s best that he sees the cottage as it used to be, so he can try to make associations with his past.”

“Okay.” He heaves out a sigh. “He hasn’t made the association of taking any of the photographs yet?”

“No… but I remembered you’d said all his equipment was taken back to his studio after the accident, and it made me think that, if he had a camera, it might just spark a memory for him.”

“I see. Well… as I say, I’m pretty sure there’s one here. It’ll be in a canvas bag somewhere.”

“Okay. I might get him to take some photographs with it, and see how it feels.”

***

Drew

Josie’s only been gone ten minutes, and I miss her already, like a part of me has gone with her. I feel incomplete and broken enough without this…

I moved too fast this morning. I know that now. She might have said I didn’t, but I did.

We got along so well yesterday, making coffee and flirting… or I thought we were flirting. I didn’t see the harm in trying again, and it felt right at the time. It felt like who I am, and I don’t know how to be anyone else… not anymore. Pretense is beyond me. All I can do is act on instinct, and all my instincts are telling me to hold her, to kiss her… to make her mine.

The problem was, she backed off, so no matter how much I want her, I need to slow down.

I also need something to take my mind off of missing her so much. But I can’t think what to do. What would I have done before? I look around the living room, my eyes settling on the photographs that line the walls. They must be relevant, surely. There’s an office upstairs… maybe that will tell me something.

I head up there, ignoring my unmade bed, and wander through to the office. The laptop on the desk is the most obvious place to start, and I open it, sitting down in the chair. The screen comes to life, but it requires a password, and my mind is a blank… yet again.

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