The Forget Me Not Pact (The Secret Author Series, #1.4)

by M. J. Padgett

  “Shut up,” she mumbled against my lips, then continued kissing me.

  We never got pizza. We stayed in the alley kissing until all the shops on the street had long-since closed, and the clock on the front of the bank said it was well-passed time for me to be a gentleman and walk her home, or to her hotel, wherever her place was.

  “I should take you home,” I mumbled, not daring to ask what she remembered. The night was magical. I had her with me again, my Dana, my angel I’d lost so long ago. I couldn’t stand the thought of ruining the moment. She, however, was braver than I was.

  She sighed. “I’m sorry, Jordan. All I remember right now is the kiss at the store. Nothing else, but I want to. I really, truly want to.”

  It sucked. I couldn’t lie, but I had hope. And hope was all I needed then. “It’s okay, Dana. I’m not going anywhere, not if you don’t want me to.” She sucked in a breath, fear creeping into those pools of blue. I thought I said something wrong. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I hoped beyond hope that you were single and that you might consider... that you might consider me an option still, even with all the trouble.”

  “Trouble? Dana, are you crazy? If you never remember anything else, if all we have is that one memory, then I’ll still love you no matter what. I can’t not love you, Dana. I can’t. It’s just impossible.”

  “You still love me?” she asked, her voice cracking all over again.

  “I’ll always love you.”

  She searched my face for the truth, but what I said was it. Her hands clamped tightly behind my neck, and she pulled me into a hug I thought would suffocate me, but I’d die a happy guy.

  “Jordan, I... I know I used to love you so very much, and if you don’t mind being patient with me, I know I can feel that way again. I kind of already do. I’m just not sure how and it scares me. I want it back, all of it, but I need time to work through it. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “I have you, and that’s all that matters.” I would probably freak out in the days to come when everything sank in, but right there in the alley where she held on to me for dear life, I fell in love with Dana Franklin all over again.

  Day 1700

  Dana

  I CAREFULLY SAT THE heavy box on the kitchen table in Jordan’s apartment. I looked around, spying my things here and there. Though I felt an instant connection to him when we met again, it still took me time to feel comfortable with the idea of picking up where we left off. He was so very patient with me.

  “I think this is the last of it unless you’re hiding more somewhere,” he teased as he placed the last box on the floor.

  “No, just the furniture, but yours is nicer so we can just sell mine.” I felt his arms slip around my waist, and he laid his head on my shoulder. I snuggled against him, my back comfortably resting against his chest as it always had—I assumed. It had since we’d started dating again, at least.

  “Thank you for moving in with me,” he said as if him rescuing me from losing my apartment was all my idea.

  “Thanks for taking me in. The only downside to not speaking to my parents is not having access to my trust fund anymore. Still, they can take that fund and stuff it.”

  “Dana, baby, it’s in the past. This is our future. You and me, okay? Maybe one day they will realize what an amazing person you are, and—”

  “Okay, now you stop. They are horrible people, and you don’t have to defend them just because they’re my parents,” I said, hating how he always tried to find a happy middle ground for everything. It was truly the only thing about him I didn’t like, because sometimes a girl just needs to be mad.

  “I’m not defending them, Dana. I just want you to know I’d never keep you from mending fences if that’s what you want. I want you to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  I turned in his arms, soaking in the sincerity in the emerald green I’d fallen in love with all over again. If there was a such thing as a soul mate, Jordan Clark was mine. He started to sway with me, back and forth, and I noticed the quiet hum of music in the background. He held me that way, dancing slowly until the music stopped.

  “Where did that come from?” I asked.

  “Neighbor downstairs. He just moved in last week, but I’m pretty sure he’s in a band. He practices this time every day. It’s not so bad, really.”

  I smiled at his acceptance of just about everything in the world, including something that would annoy even the most open of people. I would never have actually listened to the music, only grown annoyed that the neighbor had the nerve to play so loudly, maybe yelled at him to shut up, but never, never would I have just listened and enjoyed.

  I took a deep breath and moved away from him. “Let me wash the moving day grime off, and I’ll make some dinner.”

  He tapped my nose with his finger, then said, “No need, my love. I’ll order something. Clean up and relax, I’ll have it delivered.”

  Part of me wondered if he realized what he said, the same thing he did the day I had my accident. He ordered pizza the day he moved into his old apartment, then left to pick it up. Not long after that... wait... this is new.

  “Dana? Are you okay? If you don’t want delivery, I can cook while you shower,” he offered.

  I shook the thoughts from my head. I didn’t want to get his hopes up, not yet. “No, it’s fine. I’m just tired. Give me a few minutes.”

  I wandered down the hall and got into the shower as fast as I could. It was a good place to think, to clear all the mud from my head and sort through the memory I had retrieved—the one I wasn’t sure was a real memory and not something my mind made up. It had happened before, memories I was certain had happened, but Jordan—patient, sweet Jordan—explained that they had never happened.

  I pulled the memory forward, analyzed it, and picked it apart until the water ran cold in the shower. I didn’t care. I stood in the steady stream of freezing water until I’d picked the scene apart completely.

  The shirt he wore that day, he still had it. I saw it in the laundry only yesterday. Still, seeing the shirt could have easily embedded it in my mind, not a true test of the accuracy of the memory. I remembered getting in my car, but I’d seen photos of the car before and after the crash, so it was the same problem. I tried to find a detail, anything that would anchor the memory to reality, but I was at a loss. There was only one way to know for sure. I’d have to ask him.

  I’d asked him a million times about things, and he never seemed bothered by it, but this was different. It was the day everything went wrong for both of us, and I didn’t want to hurt him in any way. He’d been a rock, something he swore I used to be for him, but I didn’t know how. He didn’t tell me much about his family, but I suspected it had a lot more to do with his desire to forget them than any aversion to me remembering them.

  When I couldn’t take the freezing water any longer, I turned off the faucet and dried off. I dressed slowly, trying to absorb as much of the memory as I could before leaving the sanctuary of the bathroom. Jordan would see my dismay from a mile away, and he’d do anything he could to try to fix it. He always did.

  I tied my hair up and left the room. Before going back to the kitchen, I stopped in the bedroom and jotted down the details of the memory in my journal. As I did, they felt even more familiar, but not enough that I dared ask him about it yet. I decided it was best to wait until I had a little more to go on.

  I sighed, put away my journal, and prayed one day it would all come back to me. My life with Jordan had been nothing short of amazing since we reconnected, but I still wanted my memory back. I wanted all of him, not just the parts we’d recently built.

  I entered the kitchen to find him sitting on the table with a carton of strawberry ice cream in his hands. He stuffed a bite of the frozen treat in his mouth and scooted over. He patted the space beside him, and all at once, a thousand memories flooded my mind.

  I’d tri
ed everything. I’d been to psychiatrists, hypnotists, talked to my friends, begged anyone and everyone to help me regain my memories. I ate brain-boosting food and kept my body healthy with the hope that one day my brain would decide it liked me again and give me back my past. Turns out, all I really needed was for Jordan Clark to offer me ice cream.

  I was frozen in place, every memory of my life folding into the files where they belonged one at a time. With each memory of him that flooded my senses, I fell deeper and deeper in love with the boy, not just for who he was now, but for who he was then.

  “Dana?”

  I barely heard him. I was too lost in the moment to register his concern. He slid from the table and dropped the carton of ice cream as he did. He was scared, but I couldn’t move to ease his worry.

  “Please, Dana, say something!”

  Say something... I pulled one of the memories forward, the first one.

  “Where’s your nametag?” I asked.

  “My what? Dana, what’s gotten into you?”

  I smiled slightly, remembering the moment that turned out to be one of the most intimate and connecting moments I’d ever shared with another human being.

  “I asked, where is your nametag?”

  “My... uh...” He gazed at me, questioningly until I nodded slightly. I was certain the memories were real, but I wanted to test them. He was a quick study and complied.

  “You’re a stickler for rules, aren’t you?”

  I dropped my face into my hands and cried. His arms wrapped around me, and I never wanted to move from that place.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry, Jordan. I didn’t mean to forget.”

  Day 1700

  Jordan

  HOW ONE EARTH SHE MANAGED to remember even the tiniest details of our life before her accident amazed me. But the fact she felt guilty for forgetting killed me. I held her as tight as I could, but she shook so hard I started to worry she’d really hurt herself.

  “Dana, baby, it’s okay. None of it was your fault. You can’t control how your brain works.” I tried to comfort her, but nothing I said worked. I finally pried her loose from my chest and looked her in the eyes. “You are the greatest love anyone could ever ask for, with memories, without memories, with silly jumbled up memories—it doesn’t matter. You loved me when no one else did, and I’ll love you my whole life no matter what.”

  Her tears slowed enough for her to respond. “I just... There was so much time lost. And I’m terrified every time I get behind the wheel of a car that I’ll ruin it all again.”

  “Is that what this is? You’re afraid now that you have the memories, you’ll lose them again?”

  “A little, yeah,” she admitted.

  I pulled out the kitchen chair and helped her sit. I sat next to her and pulled her against me again. “Baby, everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see. What we have is special, and nothing can ever break it, not permanently.”

  I couldn’t say why, but at that moment, I knew I’d lose her again. Someday it would happen. She would realize she was far too good for a loser like me, or she’d miss her parents and be forced to choose. Something would happen, and I knew it would break me again. But what I said was also true. I’d lose her, but I also felt I would find her again—eventually.

  “Listen, our food will be here soon. Why don’t you get comfortable on the sofa, read a book for a while, and I’ll shove the rest of these boxes in the guest room? We can tackle the rest tomorrow. For now, let’s just have a date night, okay?”

  She smiled her million-dollar smile, a real one this time, not one of those pretend ones she tried to fool me with. Not having her memories had been pushing her into depression, but I hoped now she would realize I loved her regardless of what she remembered. What she knew didn’t change who she was or what she had done for me.

  “Can I ask you something?” she asked tentatively.

  “Anything. What is it?”

  “Did you decide to get back together with me because you felt obligated or because—”

  “Please don’t finish that question, Dana. The truth is, I never stopped loving you. I never cared how much of you I had, as long as I had a little sliver. You were the only reason I had to live for so long, and now I can’t imagine my life without you in it. That’s not to put pressure on you at all, I just... Wait a minute, is that why you’re with me? Is that why you came looking for me? Because you felt guilty about some things you wrote in a diary?”

  “What? No! How could you think that?” she defended, but I could tell it was partially true. She never really could fool me.

  “It is, partly. Dana, if you don’t want to—”

  “Jordan, now you don’t finish that sentence. At first, when I came looking for you, it was to apologize and to see if it would trigger anything, but the second I stepped into your shop, I felt like it was the place I was supposed to be. I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you so many times I’ve lost count.”

  She stood trembling in the middle of the living room, fear and doubt all over her face. She fought hard to control the tears, but if I didn’t think of something to say, they would spill again. So much sadness and crying, when what she deserved was happiness every day. I met her there, under the creaky ceiling fan, probably a bit too dusty to do what I had in mind, but I didn’t care.

  Her trembling ceased the moment I took her hands in mine, which was a mighty big confidence boost considering what I was about to do was so far out of left field I shocked myself. It’s not like I’d never thought of proposing to her; we’d talked about it many times since the day we first met, but this was it. Now it was real.

  “Dana, I will never know what you saw in me sitting in that silly freezer eating ice cream when we were kids, but I’m so glad you took time out of your day to give me a chance. You were the first person to treat me like I mattered, to give me a chance to be something more than I thought I could be. Thanks to you, I knew I could run that shop. It’s thanks to you I have enough confidence to ask you... Okay, maybe not that much confidence. I’m actually freaking out right now, but... I was hoping we could finally do what we’ve always talked about doing?”

  She stared at me, confused. “You mean, go to Disney Land?”

  “What?” I asked, laughing. “No, I mean, yeah, if you want to, but the other thing. Dana, will you marry me?”

  “Shut up!” she hit me across the chest, then grabbed me and kissed me.

  I mumbled into the kiss, “Is that a yes, or...?”

  She nodded fanatically, which broke the kiss and gave me the chance to speak again. “I don’t have a ring or anything, because I wasn’t planning on proposing right now. I was going to wait until you settled in here and felt a little better, but... Well, I couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

  I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I would somehow lose her, engaged, married, or not. But even if I did, I had her for now, and for now, was a lot better than not at all. She pulled me closer again and snuggled into her place against me.

  “I love you, Jordan. I don’t need a silly ring or a big fancy house. I don’t need any of the things my parents thought I needed to be happy. I just want to be with you.”

  I kissed the top of her head and picked her up. She giggled when I dropped her on the sofa, but she still needed a few minutes to recuperate from the onslaught of memories. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like for half your life to come slamming back into your brain after years of missing time. I was relieved when I remembered where I’d left my keys when they went missing, so whatever mix of emotions she was going through after remembering everything was way more than I could understand.

  The doorbell rang—our food that I’d ordered before she had her memory flood. It was a strange thing when I looked at it that way. It was one takeout order. One order of food that separated the before and the after. Before I ordered the food, she didn’t remember much, only a few random things that didn’t amount to a full life. After th
e food was ordered, she remembered everything. Every touch, every word, every moment we’d shared completely in love. For the rest of my life, I would never look at a bag of takeout food the same way.

  Day 2090

  Dana

  “BABY, WE TALKED ABOUT this. You promised you’d try today.” Jordan’s voice was soothing, but it infuriated me. He should have been angry with me, not sympathetic and supportive. It was the fourth day in a row I refused to leave the bedroom.

  “Just go away, Jordan. Leave me alone,” I moaned.

  He didn’t understand. Or maybe he did, but it was so hard to tell because he was always so nice to me. The depression set in days after the memories returned, but no amount of therapy or time seemed to help. I was scared. I didn’t want to lose what I’d just gotten back, but every time I left the bedroom, I couldn’t help but feel it would all be taken away. One step out of the apartment, and it would all go away again.

  “Dana, you have to get up. Stop doing this to yourself, please. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it for you. Anything, just say.”

  He meant well, but he didn’t understand that there was nothing he could do. His support was wonderful, but it only made me feel worse that I couldn’t be the rock-solid person in his life the way he was for me. So, thinking about what a crappy fiancé I was only made the depression worse—which was why I’d been in bed for four days.

  Whenever he touched me, just a simple hug or a kiss on the cheek, I felt like a giant, lying, cheater. I loved him more than life, but getting too close to him felt like a death sentence. If I lost my memories of him again, it would be like he just dropped dead even if he was standing right in front of me. The thought of driving again terrified me. I’d done it a thousand times since the accident, but that was before I remembered every detail of the accident.