“We’ve only met twice.”
“Like you reminded me, you’ve been doing this for a while now,” he says pleasantly enough, but there’s firmness to his tone. I can respect that.
“I don’t want to waste your time, but if I am, we can end this now.”
“Running away from your present won’t help you.”
I give him a look. “I’m not running from my present. I want a present. A future, but I also want to remember the past. I want a fucking clue about my life before I got fucked up in the head.”
“Why is that so important to you?” Dr. Vance asks.
“Because without a past, I can’t move forward, not without repeating the same mistakes.”
“You want perfection.”
“Yes. I mean no." I shake my head, frustrated with him, with me. “I want to avoid making mistakes.”
He cocks his head to the side. “You can’t.”
“What?”
“You can’t avoid making mistakes. You can’t avoid pain either. Life hurts. Life is suffering punctuated with moments of pure joy—if you’re lucky—and anyone who tells you any differently is lying to you.” He leans forward. “Either you can choose to fight the pain and work with a partner for the future you envision, or you can wallow in your misery, static in your growth as a man.”
“What about the old me... the one who got married really young and never had a life outside of marriage?”
He sets his notepad aside. “Are you asking me for permission to move on?”
I tip up my chin. “I don’t need your permission to make decisions. I’m asking for your opinion. You don’t know me, so it’s not biased. You don’t know my wife either, so you’re not biased toward her either. I need someone to tell it to me straight.”
“Why does it matter if you never had a life outside of your marriage? Does it make you less of a man?”
“I thought you were going to answer my question, not the other way around,” I mutter.
“The thing is Laird. The old you, from all of my notes and fact finding, was content with his life. Fully in love with his childhood sweetheart. The two of you had started a company together, King Diving and Exploration.”
We’d started a business? “You gathered that much intel in a week?” I ask flatly.
Frowning, he shakes his head. “No, this is from six-months’ worth of work. As soon as your family found you, they paid me to work with Dr. Drees. He sent me his notes, and I gathered my information from other sources. The only person I didn’t interview was your wife. Only recently, was I given permission to interview your mother and hers.”
“You don’t sound happy about that. Not interviewing Ophelia, that is.”
“You were Dr. Drees patient, not mine... yet. I respected his instructions. He thought that she would add unnecessary trauma to your well-being. He was worried you would regress.” His frown turns deeper. “To be frank, I don’t agree with his assessment and I don’t mind saying so since he was not and is not a licensed psychotherapist.”
My mouth almost drops open. “Are you saying he’s a quack?”
“I’m saying that he specializes in rehabilitation of the body, not the mind, but you by all accounts you were thriving, so I didn’t share my findings with your family. I knew they would be bringing you home soon, and I’d agreed to be available when you needed me.”
“That’s a huge assumption on your part that I’d go to you.”
“You trust your family, Laird. Your brothers and sister have always taken care of you. That’s a core instinct that wasn’t damaged by a traumatic brain injury.” He picks up the cup of coffee on the table beside him and drinks. “The only thing I wasn’t sure of was how long it would take you to realize that you needed more therapy.”
“I’m may be hardheaded, but I’m not a complete idiot.” I clear my throat. “Anyway, what about my marriage. My wife... I can’t be the man she remembers.”
“Has she asked you to be him?”
Only when I’m acting like an asshole. “She’s requested that I learn to be reasonable.”
He nods encouragingly. “And?”
“I moved in with my mom,” I mutter. Yup, I’m one hundred percent a loser.
Dr. Vance stops nodding. “Move back in with your wife. and if you can’t do that, get an apartment. You’re not a child. You’re not unfit to work, and you’re mostly healthy.”
I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “I’d planned on doing one of those things anyway. My brothers are giving me hell about living with her. It’s bad enough being the youngest.”
We talk more, mostly me doing the talking and Dr. Vance doing the note taking before our time is up. I shake his hand and make an appointment for next week with him.
I climb inside the truck Duke lent me and pull out my phone, tapping on Ophelia’s contact information. I tap the screen to call her. She answers on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, this is... it’s me.”
“I know.” She clears her throat delicately, as if she’s trying to be careful with what she says next. Can’t blame her really. She never knows the Laird she’ll get. “How are you?”
That’s so not what I was expecting. First, I thought she’d hang up, then I thought she’d tell me off, but then I remember what my mom said about Ophelia treating everyone how she wanted to be treated.
I’m a first-rate asshole for sure.
“Good. Just had a therapy session with Dr. Vance.”
“That’s great. I hope Dr. Vance can help you.”
“Yeah, he’s...” I run nervous hand through my hair. “He’s former military so he’s tough as balls...” I wince. “As nails.”
Ophelia laughs. “You don’t have to censor yourself on my account. I heard much worse from you when you were mad at your brothers.”
“Yeah?”
“You hated it when they treated you like a little kid. Annddd you might have taught me all the best swear words.”
“I think that’s because your mom was very strict, right?”
“That’s right,” she says, all happy, then reality seems to crash in on her, on us. “So, I’m kinda in the middle of something—yard work, actually and I’d like to get done before it gets too hot.”
Yardwork?
Of course, dumbass, who else mowed her lawn or weeded the flowerbeds?
“Would you mind if I stop by with lunch?”
There’s a catch in her breath. “Sure. Do you know where to go?”
“Tell me...please.” It’s the least I can do for her, bring her favorite lunch and have a decent conversation, then I can take over the yardwork.
“The Crab Shack. Ask for the special.”
“Got it. I’ll be there as soon as possible.” I start up the truck and all but throw it in gear. “can GPS find it?”
“Yes. If not, look for the line of cars.”
I end our call, punch in the name and thankfully, I get directions. Hitting the gas, I toss the phone and buckle up, then peel out of the parking lot like my ass is on fire.
Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling in Ophelia’s drive, carefully navigating my way as she mows so my tires don’t kick up a rock. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a lopsided bun. Tendrils escape the massive do and her cheeks are pink from exertion. Her skin glistens in the early afternoon sun.
I grab the bag that contains our lunch, the drink carrier and my phone before getting out of the truck and waiting for her to join me. She makes another pass with the mower, then lets go of the handle and the engine dies. Her shoes are stained green and there are bits of grass clinging to her legs.
“You push mow the whole yard?”
She nods. “I sit a lot while I make jewelry, so this is great exercise.”
“What about in winter?”
“Extra-long walks on the beach.”
“Would you mind if I finished up for you?”
Ophelia smiles, but it’s the tiniest smile I’ve ever seen,
barely showing any teeth. “I’m done.”
“What about the flowerbeds?”
“They don’t need my attention.”
“Weed eating?”
She shakes her head. “No but thank you.”
Well, fuck me sideways. I can’t help her at all. At least I have lunch. I hold out the bag to her and the drink carrier. “The guy at the counter recognized me. Said you drank sweet tea and so did I.”
She takes one of the teas from me, but not the bag, and pops off the lid, drinking deeply. “Thank you,” she says, wiping the side of her mouth. “I needed that.”
“You’re not hungry.” I frown as she sits on the steps. “I have enough food for two people.”
“The special is for one person. You.” She wipes her forehead against her arm. “I’m too hot to eat.”
“But I said I’d bring lunch.”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way because you seem like you’re in a really good mood.” Her gaze is wary as she looks at me. “But I didn’t know you meant you were bringing me lunch, too.”
My heart plummets to my toes. “I can see why you’d think that was a possibility.”
She takes another gulp of tea. “You’re welcome to sit beside me.”
I all but snatch the olive branch from her and park my ass on the second step. Opening my bag, I offer her dibs. “You sure you’re too hot?”
“I’m sure but thank you anyway.” She wipes the other side of her face, smudging dirt on her cheek. She’s adorable and sexy, but I don’t think telling her either of those things will help us. At least not in this moment.
“Dr. Vance said we started a business together.” As soon as the words leave me, I know they are the exact wrong thing to say.
“You’re wondering about the books.” She pops up from the steps like a jack-in-the-box. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait,” I call out to her as she disappears inside the house. I set the bag of food and drink carrier down, then rummage through the former, eating a handful of fries.
“Here you go.” She all but slams the ledger against my chest. “Everything is accounted for. Have fun spending the profit on old friends.”
“Old friends?” I look at her blankly. “What old friends?”
“Don’t pretend your therapist didn’t tell you to reconnect with old friends. That’s exactly what a therapist would say to do to get back your memory,” she scoffs.
“I’m not following.”
“And while it might not be kind of me to say, your therapist is an idiot to tell you to start diving again, to start exploring for treasures because that’s exactly what took you away from me in the first place.” Her face is red, contorted in pain as her lips quiver. “I will not stand by while you become reckless with your life. I will not stand by while you share yourself with Cates Boykins.”
“Hold up.” I jump to my feet, grabbing her before she can run from me. The ledger falls to the stairs, crushing my lunch and overturning my drink, but I don’t give a damn. “Start over, love. I don’t’ know half of what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t want to repeat myself.”
“At least tell me why you think I’m sharing myself with some dude named Cates Boykins.” Does everyone around her have names that make no damn sense?
She closes her eyes, black lashes brushing her cheeks. “Cates isn’t a dude. She’s a beautiful successful woman who used to have the hots for you and she’s who everyone says you’re seeing right now, along with your old friends.”
“That’s news to me.” I shake my head, even if she can’t see me. “Although to be fair, it does sound like I’m missing out.” I’m so full of shit, she should be able to smell my lie a mile away.
Her eyes fly open, full on fury residing in the center. “Are you calling my momma a liar?”
“I don’t know her well enough to call her anything.” I run my hands up and down Ophelia’s slender arms, trying to ease her into trusting me. “I do know that I haven’t been sharing anything with anyone named Cates or hanging out with old friends. In fact, the most excitement I had this week was when River came over and we made a video where we swapped outfits.”
“What’s TikTok?” I ask a beat later. “She said that she didn’t want it to flop?”
Ophelia simply stares at me, her pale green eyes wide. Suddenly, she bursts out laughing and my heart swells. “That sounds exactly like River.”
“She taught me how to woah.” I’ll tell her my entire conversation with River if it will help.
“You’re going to be famous.” Ophelia grows serious. “You haven’t been with Cates and old friends?”
“I honestly don’t know who Cates is and from what I understand, you’re my oldest friend.” An idea hits me. “We should do something.”
She licks her lips and the urge to kiss her twists me up inside. “Like what?”
“Whatever would make you happy.”
“It’s so hot.” She tilts her head to one side. “Let’s go to Queens River and cool off.”
“Give me a second and I’ll get my—”
“You won’t need it.”
“Are you saying we’re going...” I raise my brows meaningfully and watch a blush spread from her chest to her cheeks. Her breasts are heaving now, heavy and round. My body aches to touch her, as if it remembers what my brain can’t.
She rolls her eyes. “No. We’ll go swimming in our clothes if we have to. I only picked Queens River because tourist don’t go there.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ophelia
WE’RE IN DUKE’S OLD truck, driving to Queens River, just like old times. Only unlike old times, Laird has no idea where we’re going, his brother isn’t with us to supervise, and I’m starting to think that my momma and possibly his are conspiring to get us back together.
I can’t be sure, but for my prim and proper mother to actually advise me to seduce my husband, a man she hated until Connor... warning bells are ringing loudly.
“Did you know that they called me Eric when I first woke from my coma? Even my medical records had me listed under that name,” he says.
The GPS tells him to take the next left and he turns the truck onto a very bump dirt road filled with ruts created by heavy rains.
“Did they ever say why?” I grab the oh-shit handle above the door and hang on for dear life, but at the last minute Laird eases up on the gas and we don’t bottom out.
“Apparently, I was going on and on about a mermaid. Hell, I used to have dreams about one, who looked suspiciously like you.” He glances at me, a smile on his face, but his eyes... his eyes are serious. “Something you’re keeping from me?”
“Little mermaid was your favorite nickname for me. You said that I reminded you of one with the way I loved to swim underwater.” My cheeks heat as he stops the truck and puts it in park. “Your second favorite word was love. You said it was fitting because it sounded like something a pirate would say and I was your most prized treasure.”
“I don’t know whether to be in awe of the game I had, or be mortified that I used those lines on you.”
“Be in awe,” I assure him. “I loved it. You still call me love every so often.”
“It slips out.” He unlocks the door. “I’ll try to use it more often, but I’m not so sure how natural little mermaid sounds to my ears.”
I get out of the truck, walk down to the river where the water runs cool and deep under a large weeping willow tree. Laird follows me without saying another word.
I splay hand against the tree. Our tree. “We carved our names here.”
He stoops down, searching until he finds Laird + Ophelia. “Did you carve mine and I yours?”
“Yes. I was scared of knives, so you taught me how to use one. Or rather you tried but Duke said you were going about it the wrong way, so he took over.” I bite my lip. “He’s always been a dad to us.”
“I can see that.” Laird stands, nearly hitting his head on the branches. He
ducks at the last minute, grinning. “I guess this tree is for sitting not standing.”
Lowering myself to the ground, I lean against the trunk of the tree and scoot out until my legs are in the water. The cool water is refreshing to my overheated skin.
Laird does the same, but his legs are so long that they hit the water before he can fully stretch out. “Wow,” he gasps. “That’s a lot colder than I expected.”
“Always running water doesn’t have time to heat.” I point to a spot upriver. “There’s an underground spring that feeds into it, otherwise it would be like pond water. Warm, filled with frogs and algae.”
“I think we would fish here. One time, I think Duke brought a woman with him and we all spent the day together here.”
“That was True Prince. I can’t believe you remember that. I ate my weight in grapes and chicken salad that day.”
Laird covers my hand with his, making me jump a little. “I think I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I think I’ve demanded too much from you when you were...are in the dark just as much as me.”
Unwilling to break whatever spell the water and his memories have him under, I don’t speak. I barely breath and I sure don’t move my hand from his. It’s one of the best feelings in the world to be touched like this.
“I’d like to change that. I want to be with you, get to know you. Obviously, there’s something about you, about us that calls out to me. I can’t escape that.” He flashes his ocean eyes at me. “Please don’t take that the wrong way.”
I shake my head. “I won’t. I’m not.”
“Good. I just meant that I think we’re fated to be together. Everyone is pushing us to be together so it must be the right thing.”
My heart sinks a little, but I paste on a smile. I want him to think we belong together because those are his true feelings, not what everyone else says.
“Regardless of what I think, I’d like to know if you would go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”
“Ye—I would love—yes,” I stumble over my words in excitement. “Ten Blue is my favorite place to go, but you’ll have to dress up.”
“That fancy, huh?”
Picture Perfect Love Page 9
