My Image of You

by Melanie Moreland

  She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t even fathom—”

  “It doesn’t matter now. They failed. They were overconfident, and they made a big mistake.”

  “Coming back here?”

  I nodded. “Fucking big mistake. I know they checked and thought I was gone indefinitely. Your mother wanted the big social aspect—to show off you marrying the right, acceptable kind of man. One she and Ronald approved of. So they had the party here, for their circle. They had no idea I would show up.” I breathed out a huge sigh. “Thank God I came back.”

  Ally ran her hand over her temple.

  “Is your head hurting?” I asked, concerned. “We can stop and talk more later.”

  “It still hurts sometimes, but not as much,” she admitted. For a minute she worried her lip, looking anxious. “I’m not—I’m not the same as before, Adam.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I get headaches, and sometimes I’m confused and forgetful. I don’t know if that’ll get better or not. I have a limp, which makes me a little clumsy at times. I’m not quite me anymore.”

  “Is that what they’ve been telling you?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  “My mother told me time and again I was lucky Bradley was so in love with me, that he would overlook my, ah, drawbacks. Even Bradley said things—he’d say he was teasing, but it hurt. My mother, though, especially likes to tell me how, ah, diminished I am now.”

  Deep, clawing rage filled me. How fucking dare they say that to her? I closed my eyes. “I don’t believe in hitting women, but I’d really like to slap your mother. And then beat the living shit out of Bradley.”

  “Adam—”

  I leaned forward, speaking slowly so she understood what they’d been telling her was bullshit. “Listen to me, Ally. You are in no way diminished. You’re still you—the woman I love. I don’t care if you walk with a limp. I’ll carry you if that’s what you need. If you forget something, I’ll remind you. If you’re confused, tell me and I’ll explain it to you until you aren’t confused anymore. I’ll do all that happily until we’re old and gray, if that’s how it is. I don’t care. You’re still nothing but perfect in my eyes. You always will be.” I paused to brush my lips across hers. “I love you. I will always love you. No matter what.”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “We have each other, and we’ll deal with everything else.”

  “I didn’t sleep with Bradley,” she burst out.

  Relief coursed through me at her words, and I struggled not to show it on my face. “Why?”

  She eased off my lap and paced in front of the windows, the blanket still draped around her shoulders. Her bare legs showed the scar that ran across her foot and ankle, still vivid against her pale skin. She was so thin and wan looking it made me want to pull her into my arms and keep her safe. Make her strong again.

  “I couldn’t,” she said simply. “His touch—it felt so wrong.”

  “Did he try?”

  “Yes. A few times.” Her hands fluttered nervously, the blanket falling from her shoulders as she kept pacing. “I could never feel completely comfortable with him. I kept telling myself it was because I couldn’t remember, and I’d get over it. Except it never got any better.”

  “How did he handle it?”

  She shrugged, not looking at me.

  “Ally.”

  “He was fine at first, telling me he would wait until I was better. The last couple times, he got impatient. He said I was stalling.” She paused. “He was right.”

  “Why? You were engaged. It would be natural to explore that with the man you were supposed to be in love with.”

  “That’s just it! It didn’t feel right. I didn’t like it. I was so confused all the time.” She stopped her pacing, standing in front of me. Her hands were clenched, wrapped around the bottom of my shirt. “My mother and Bradley kept telling me how in love we were and how happy I should be. No matter how hard I tried, though, I was never very happy. I wasn’t even sure why I said yes when he asked, except it seemed to be what I was supposed to do. He’d been so good, coming to see me all the time and being kind.” Her hands twisted some more. “I kept telling myself if I loved him so much it would come back. One day I’d feel it. Except the only thing I felt all the time was bewilderment and worry. Like I was doing something wrong.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I was so lost all the time, Adam. I missed you. I missed you so much and I didn’t know that was what I was feeling.”

  I opened my arms, engulfing her small, shaking frame as she launched herself at me. “I missed you, too. But not anymore. I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

  We sat wrapped around each other in silence. “What do we do now?”

  “We’re going to confront them. Tell them it’s done. We’ll have the power of attorney removed. You need to have control over your own life again.” I ran my finger over her pale cheek. “We’ll have you checked by the doctor, and then we’re going to move forward with our plans. The ones they took away from us.”

  “I’m worried,” she admitted quietly.

  “Tell me why.”

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so angry toward someone. I don’t know how I’ll react when I see my mother or Bradley. And all of this seems so overwhelming, I’m not sure how to handle it.”

  “I know it’s a lot. We’ll figure it out a step at a time. You don’t have to hide how you feel, Ally. You’ve been hiding long enough. Speak your mind to them. I’ll be beside you the whole time. No one will touch you and nothing is coming between us.”

  “I never want to see my mother again—or Ronald. And I’m not sure I can forgive Bradley if he’s as involved as I’m afraid he is. I can’t believe he’d stoop so low.”

  “Then don’t. It’s time to get your life back. Ask your questions, say what you think. It’s time to finally be free of them.”

  A look of determination crossed her face.

  “All right.”

  Chapter 24

  Adam

  “Adam,” Ally said as she searched the cupboard, later that morning. “Where’s my mug—the one you brought me from London?”

  “Oh. It, ah, got broken.”

  “What a shame! I liked that mug—it was my favorite.” I heard her rummaging a little more. “Where are the other mugs? The ones that went with our dishes? In fact…”

  I shut my eyes, knowing what was next. I was embarrassed when I thought of my tantrum that day, but I couldn’t take it back.

  “Where are the dishes?” She turned around. “All that’s in the cupboards is a bowl and a couple of plastic containers. The only mug is the one we’ve been sharing. Where are the rest of them?”

  I tried stalling. “You don’t like sharing a mug with me anymore?”

  “Adam.” Her voice held a warning.

  I sighed heavily. “I was angry.”

  “And?”

  “I threw things. Lots of things.”

  “You broke all our dishes?”

  “Yes.”

  “And my mug?”

  “I was angry,” I repeated. “I thought you’d left me—left our life behind. I didn’t want any reminders. So I destroyed anything that reminded me of us.”

  “Did it make you feel better?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Not really.”

  She walked around, running her fingers over the walls. “Here?” she asked quietly, tracing a deep hole. “Was this my mug?”

  “I think so. Or your keys.”

  “Adam…”

  “They were on the desk. All your things were gone. I thought you were gone, too,” I added, trying to explain my pain and anger.

  “I didn’t take them,” she replied.

  “No. I assume your mother did. Was my information in your phone?” I asked, more pieces of the puzzle coming together.

  “Yes.”

  “That explains how she got the address. I guess she decided to make it look like you took your thi
ngs. Made sure I got the message. Bitch.”

  “I’m sorry. She certainly thought of everything.” She tilted her head. “You were hurting.”

  “I was. I thought I was going to explode. I didn’t know how to deal with the pain and frustration.”

  “So my mug had to suffer.”

  I knew she was trying to make me smile.

  “It was an honorable death.”

  Her hand rested on her hip, a stern expression on her face.

  “I expect you’ll be replacing my mug,” she huffed. “And my key chain.”

  I nodded, trying not to laugh at her stern tone. I had missed how adorable she was when she was trying to be tough.

  “I guess we need to pick up some new dishes. Eating off paper plates is more your style than mine,” she teased.

  “Saves on dish soap.”

  “Nope. New ones.”

  I grinned. “Bossy.”

  “You love me bossy.”

  I yanked her to me. “I love you any way—as long as I have you.”

  She pulled my mouth down to hers, her breath drifting over my skin.

  “I know.”

  —

  The day was filled with ups and downs. Some moments of sharing were easier and lighter—like the mug and dishes. Later, however, I heard her crying in the shower, and I went in to find her on the floor of the stall, weeping over her silly mug and the pain it symbolized for me. Fully dressed, I sank down beside her and held her, letting the water wash away her tears.

  I left her in the loft, running to the Chinese place to get some food. The order took longer than usual, and I became agitated, a gnawing feeling clawing at my gut at being away from her. I grabbed the bag from Chang and tore back home, only to find her waiting anxiously for me by the door. I wrapped my arm around her and lifted her, carrying her and the food to the counter, sitting them on the hard surface. Cupping her face, I stared at her. “I don’t think we can be apart for a while,” I admitted. “I can’t be away from you right now.”

  “Me, either. I feel better when you’re close.”

  “Good.”

  We ate, then she curled up in the chair and I sat in front of her, holding her hands, wanting to hear more about our time apart.

  I asked the questions I hated hearing the answers to. She told me about her recovery, trying to come to grips with the missing pieces of her life, and the therapy on her ankle. I disliked hearing about her being in physical pain, and even more, I loathed hearing about her emotional pain. How she worried about her memory and what the future held for her. I gripped her hand tighter as she whispered some days she cried when the pain was too much to handle.

  She asked me questions about Peter and Edwina and what I had done during the months we’d been apart. I explained about the clinic I used Elena’s money to build, and how the trust fund would ensure their continued care for the people there. I shared memories as we went through the images I had captured on my laptop. She loved the ones I took of the remote area, and the clear horizons that surrounded us.

  “The stars at night, Ally. They’re like diamonds thrown into the inky blackness. I had never seen skies like the ones I saw there,” I explained, the artist in me speaking.

  She touched my hand that was on the mouse, stopping me from going forward as she gazed at my face on the screen, her finger tracing the image. For a change, I was staring into the camera while Edwina snapped the shutter. My face was impassive, but my eyes and expression said it all. Weary and lost. That was how I looked.

  “I remember that day,” I murmured. “It had been a bad night.”

  “Tell me,” she urged.

  I set down the laptop, needing to hold her. “I’d dream of you. You’d be with me…then I’d wake up and you weren’t there. I wasn’t here. I was alone in a strange place and missing you so much.”

  “Just like me.”

  I nodded against her neck, burrowing my face into her fragrant skin. “Never again,” I vowed. She was mine, and I wasn’t letting her go.

  “No. Never again.” She agreed.

  —

  Her phone buzzed a short while later. She looked up from the screen. “Bradley’s returning early.”

  I couldn’t keep the loathing from my voice. “How awesome.”

  Her eyes filled with trepidation. “What should I say to him?”

  “The sooner we do this, the sooner we can move on.”

  “It makes me nervous. The thought of seeing him makes me anxious.”

  “He should be nervous facing you after what he’s done. I’ll fucking make sure he is.” I felt a tremor go through her, and I regretted adding to her worry. “Everything’s going to be okay, Nightingale. I won’t leave your side.”

  “My mother…”

  We needed to develop a plan. “What time will she be home this evening?”

  “Probably about nine.”

  “Why don’t we tell Bradley to be at her place tonight, too? Face them both at once.”

  Her already pale face became ashen.

  “Ally, don’t—I’ll be right there. Nothing is going to happen and we’re going to walk out of there together. I promise.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. She picked up her phone and sent off the texts.

  “Your mother has become lax about checking up on you,” I said, grateful for the fact. “She’s so confident she’s won she hasn’t seen what was happening right in front of her. She never suspected I was here, or that you had been seeing me.”

  “She’s been distracted, and Ronald’s been away so much. I told her the walks I took every day made me glad I was moving to Calgary, since nothing felt familiar here. She thinks I sat in the park and read, and never spoke to anyone.”

  I grinned. “You played her.”

  She shrugged. “She’s so busy today with appointments she hasn’t even checked up on me.” She huffed a sigh. “She’s been enjoying all the wedding nonsense.”

  “Of course. She loves the attention.” It was another thing I loathed about that woman.

  “I asked Bradley to come to my mother’s place at eight-thirty. I told my mother I’d be home when she got there.”

  “Good. We’ll go a little early and you can grab anything you may have left behind.” I grinned. “Not that I mind you wearing my stuff all the time, but you must want a few of your own pieces of clothing to tide you over until we go shopping.”

  “Okay. I probably should make sure I have everything.” She lifted her chin. “After today, I’m not going back.”

  “Nope.”

  Slipping my arms under her legs I lifted her, carrying her to the bed. “You look utterly exhausted. I want you to rest.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “What if you just lie down and I’ll stay beside you?”

  “Will you tell me more about Africa? I want to know all about the clinic and the fund you started with Elena’s money.”

  I smiled at her. It was a cause close to my heart because the memory of the person it represented and the couple who had been there for me. I had the best people overseeing the project—Elena would be pleased. And I’d tell her anything she wanted if it meant she rested. “Yes.”

  She curled up on her side, tucking her pillow under her head. I slipped in beside her, pulling her close, nuzzling her hair. I had missed her soft feminine scent. I spoke of the heat that bounced off the dirt, some days so hot you could see the shimmer of it in the air around you. I told her how I had finally confided in Peter and Edwina, and it was they who convinced me to come home and find her. They told me I couldn’t move forward until I had some closure, and they had been correct.

  “I came back to put you behind me, but instead I have my whole life ahead of me with you in it,” I murmured against her skin. “I have them to thank for that.”

  I kept talking, keeping my voice quiet, until I felt her relax, her body easing farther into me as she slept. I looked down at her, hardly able to believe she was with me once again. Safe in my
arms.

  Gently, I stroked her hair back, frowning at the edge of the scar I could see. I knew it went under her hairline, and if I ran my finger over her scalp I would feel it, along with the shorter hair that was there when they had to shave around the injury. A scar she would carry the rest of her life. One that would remind us of a time we thought we’d lost the most important thing in our life.

  However, I was determined it would only make us stronger.

  Ally

  Wrapped in Adam’s arms, I slept. He was beside me when I woke up, one hand busy on his laptop while the other one rested on my arm.

  “Hi,” I whispered.

  His gaze flew to mine, and he shoved his laptop to the side. “Hey.”

  “Don’t stop what you’re doing.”

  “It’s fine. I just finished getting some documents from my lawyer. I’ll print them in a while.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Six.”

  I sat up, feeling more alert. “I slept that long?”

  He nodded, smiling. “It did you good. Feel better?”

  “Yes. Thank you for staying beside me.”

  “There isn’t anywhere else I want to be.” He paused. “Are you up for this? We’ll leave soon.”

  I drew in a deep breath. “I have to be. With you there I can be brave and do this.”

  “You are brave. You always have been.” He tilted his head, his voice becoming low and soothing. “I have something that might help.” His brow furrowed. “It might make you braver.”

  “Oh?”

  He pressed a small box into my hand. “This has been waiting for you.”

  I stared at the tiny leather box. My hands shook as I opened it. The light caught the delicate diamonds that were scattered around the intricately designed ring. “How?” I gasped.

  “Mr. Freedman dropped it off. I kept it for you.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “You kept it?”

  “Of course I did. I gave it to you the same way I gave you my heart. It’s yours. Forever.” His words were simple and straightforward, leaving me no doubt as to his sincerity.

  “You still”—I swallowed—“you still want to marry me?”