Page 60 of Unlocking Melodies

“That was...” Ethan's voice held something like pride mixed with concern.

“Terrifying? Yeah.” I tried for a laugh but it came out shaky.

“Hey.” Ethan turned me to face him, his free hand coming up to cup my cheek. “That wasn't Past Jimmy. That was all you.”

The certainty in his voice made my chest tight. Here was someone who knew all my stories but saw me clearly in this moment – not as a collection of missing memories, but as someone whole and real and worth protecting.

Through the trees, I could still hear the expensive car idling. Gary wasn't alone, and something told me this wasn't over. But standing there in the porch light, Ethan's hand steady in mine, I felt stronger than my fractured memories might suggest.

Some things, it seemed, lived deeper than memory. Like the instinct to protect yourself from danger. Like the feeling of someone's hand fitting perfectly in yours, becoming shelter in the storm.

Like knowing, somehow, that this time you didn't have to face the shadows alone.

Chapter 15

The Right to Choose

Every instinct I'd developed screamed at me to take control of the situation, to handle this crisis like I handled hostile takeovers. But watching Jimmy sit on his couch, staring at Gary's text message with unnerving calm, I realized this wasn't a corporate emergency I could solve with strategic maneuvering.

“How did he even get your number?” I asked, my pacing halting momentarily. The security implications made my corporate brain spin.

Jimmy frowned at his phone. “I have no idea. It's not like I kept his contact information...” He paused, then added dryly, “At least, I don't think I did. Hard to be sure these days.”

I resumed wearing a path in his carpet. The perfect evening we'd shared now felt like a dream shattered by Gary's unwelcome appearance.

“He wants to meet,” Jimmy said finally, his voice steady in a way that made my chest tight. “Tomorrow. Just us.”

“Absolutely not.” The words snapped out. I regretted it immediately, watching Jimmy's expression harden.

“And you get to make that decision for me?” The quiet challenge in his voice stopped my pacing. “Because you remember things I don't?”

I haven’t prepared to watch someone I loved consider walking into danger because he couldn't remember why he shouldn't. My father's negotiations felt simple compared to finding the right words here.

“Jimmy...” I tried to soften my tone, to pull back the instinctive command. “It's not about making decisions for you. It's about?—“

“Who is he?” The question hit like a hostile takeover bid – direct, unavoidable. “Really. Because my body remembered being afraid of him before my mind could explain why.”

I sat heavily in the armchair across from him, the weight of having to explain this settling on my shoulders. “Gary Reed,” I said carefully. “He's your father.”

Jimmy's face remained carefully neutral, but his hands tightened on his phone. “And?”

“And he has a gambling addiction that...” I hesitated, memories of our late-night conversations came flooding back. Of Jimmy explaining how he'd worked three jobs to cover his father's debts, how he'd learned to sleep with his wallet under his pillow. “That caused you a lot of pain.”

He absorbed this, fingers tracing the edges of his phone where Gary's message still glowed accusingly. “And the attack? Was he involved?”

“We don't know.” The admission felt like failure. “Ramirez was the one who hurt you, but the full story...” I trailed off as Jimmy stood, something shifting in his posture that I recognized from before – determination settling into his shoulders like armor.

“That's just it, isn't it?” He moved to the window, staring out at where Gary's car had disappeared into the darkness.“Everyone knows pieces of my story except me. You, Nina, the whole town – you're all trying to protect me from things I can't remember being afraid of.”

“Jimmy—“

“No.” He turned back to me, and something in his expression made my protests die in my throat. “I get it. I do. Past Jimmy knew all the reasons to keep this person at arm's length. But Current Jimmy? He needs to make his own choices. Even if they're the same ones Past Jimmy would have made.”

I recognized this version of him – the quiet strength that had first drawn me in at Rosewood, the determination that had helped him build something beautiful in this small town. “The last time he showed up,” I said carefully, “it was because he needed money. He said he had a sure thing, a bet that couldn't lose.”

“Let me guess – it lost?”

“You covered his debt. Again. Worked extra shifts at the bar, took on more clients than you could handle.” The memory made my hands clench. “You were exhausted, running yourself into the ground, but you wouldn't let anyone help because?—“

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