Page 138 of Help Me Remember
Her eyes widen, but I don’t care. I had to watch this prick kiss her.
“Announcement?”
She smiles. “I got my memory back.”
“I’m so glad. Truly.”
I’m so sure he’s not. He hoped she would go back to him, which I can’t really blame him for. She’s fucking perfect, and I would want the same.
“Thank you. Spencer and I were together before and . . .”
He looks down at her hand. “He’s the fiancé?”
She smiles softly. “He is.”
“I am.”
He looks back and forth between us. “Damn. I am so sorry about all that. I can’t imagine it was easy for you when she woke up.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Yeah, I . . . I’m really happy for you,” Henry says again. “I really do want you to have everything you want.”
Her hand rests on his arm. “Thank you. We both appreciate it.”
“We do,” I say since it seems I am to agree on this point.
“I have to go. I have a meeting in twenty and I need coffee. It was great bumping into you.”
“Bye,” I say, done with this conversation.
The hairs on the back of my neck keep rising. I want us out of here and out of Portland.
As soon as he’s gone, the blue eyes of the woman I love, which are typically soft and sweet, turn hard with anger. “You were an asshole.”
“Let’s go to the car and you can berate me the entire way back to Rose Canyon.”
“Spencer, I’m serious. Henry did nothing wrong, and you were being such a jerk.”
I could give two shits about how I treated her piece-of-shit ex, but it seems that this upsets her more than I understand. “What does it matter?”
She shakes her head quickly and grumbles. “He was being perfectly nice.”
“He also lied, kissed you, failed to show up at Isaac’s funeral, and is a fucking asshole. So, I’m sorry I wasn’t nice to him. Next time, when we’re not out in the middle of the city, I’ll be nicer.”
“What does us being in Portland have anything to do with you being nice?” Brielle asks, looking around.
“I just would like us to go.”
“And I would like to know what you’re keeping from me.”
This woman is going to be the death of me. “Quinn is in Portland as well. Okay? He’s here, and I think we should go home.”
Brielle purses her lips with her arms over her chest. “No.”
“No?”
“No,” she repeats. “I will not live my life like this. I spent how many weeks feeling unsafe? I do not have a dress for our party, and I am going into that store.”
