Page 48

William

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

"I didn’t know you were already here," she says, smiling, her face flushed. The smile, however, unlike before, doesn’t reach her eyes.

"I’m always in your shadow, Taylor. I’m always at your side because I can’t help it. I don’t want to help it."

"Except when I disappeared," she says, putting her violin away without looking at me.

"Come with me?"

She finally lifts her head to meet my gaze. "What’s going on?"

"I want to take you somewhere." I extend my hand to her, and she looks at me, confused. Even though we know that everyone in the hospital suspects our involvement, we’ve never touched in public.

"Where?"

"Do you trust me?"

"If I were a smart girl, I’d say no."

"But you’re not?"

She looks down at her feet. "No."

"What are you, Taylor?" I take a step closer and lift her chin.

"A fool."

"Why?"

"I have no proof, but I know I did nothing wrong, yet I accept the crumbs you give me."

"I never gave you crumbs. I’ve always been yours. Even with anger, longing, resentment, and bitterness, I was always yours. Come with me."

She accepts my hand and, for the first time, takes the initiative to entwine our fingers. "Where to?"

"Cupcakes by the hospital lake."

"What?"

"The day you went to the bookstore, you wanted a cupcake but never got the chance. I took you to dinner instead, and then . . .”

Her face flushes even more. "I remember."

"I had a picnic set up for us by the lake."

"In the middle of your workday?"

"I have nothing scheduled for today."

"You really just want to go out for a cupcake?"

"I want to be with you. And I’ll use whatever means necessary to convince you.”

* * *

We’re lying on a blanket spread over the grass, watching the birds by the lake.

She still hasn’t touched her cupcake. Instead, she rests her head on my chest while I run my fingers through her hair.

"Once, you asked me how we met."

"Yes, and you told me. No need to remind me."

"But I need to."

She lifts her head and props it up on her hands. "What more is there to say?"

"My father was always a cheater. For as long as I can remember, he betrayed my mother."

"I don’t want to talk about him."

"But we have to."

"Fine. Go on."

What I don’t tell her is that, at this very moment, a team of mercenaries is hunting him down. My father has been missing since our last phone call, but if he thinks he’ll escape justice, he’s mistaken.

The police have restrictions when searching for him—but bounty hunters don’t. Sooner or later, he will be caught.

"He cheated on my mother with girls even younger than you. One of them, inside my grandmother’s house."

"Oh, my God!"

"Yes. The day I saw you in the library’s bathroom, the exact second I laid eyes on you, I wanted you. You looked like a mirage—beautiful, naked, and with an innocent face. I’m a cynic, Taylor. I never believed in goodness. After forcing myself to think rationally, I assumed you were one of my father’s mistresses, and the thought drove me insane."

"You thought your father and I . . .”

"Yes. But it wasn’t just the anger at him for possibly once again bringing a woman to my grandmother’s house that made me lose it."

"Then what?"

"There’s no logical explanation for it," I say, for the first time breaking eye contact, staring at the cloudless sky instead.

"I can handle a lack of logic. Tell me."

"I was consumed with jealousy because, from the very first moment I saw you, I knew you were mine. I fell in love at first sight."

She opens her mouth, but I stop her with a gesture.

"It was the first time, but not the only time I fell for you."

"What do you mean?"

"One day, I saw you pretending to play the violin in the rain, and I loved you all over again. Then I watched you get emotional at the concert, and once more, you stole my heart. And then, the first time I had you, I surrendered again."

"Don’t say that."

"And then you disappeared, and?—”

She suddenly sits up, catching me off-guard. "And you assumed the worst of me. You used the wrong word, William—you felt passion, not love. Physical attraction. If you truly loved me, you never would have doubted me."

I sit up, staring at the water.

I could counter her argument in many ways. Impose my will as I’m used to doing.

But I’ve already made too many mistakes with Taylor, and I suspect words alone won’t be enough to fix them.

I’ll have to prove it.

"Eat," I say, feigning calm as I open the box of cupcakes.

She looks at me skeptically, then at the dessert I’m offering her. "You’re not going to try to convince me I’m wrong?"

"Not with words. I’ll prove it to you."

"How?"

"By staying by your side. By defending you and protecting you from any harm. By loving you. And most importantly, by punishing those who hurt you."

I intend to tell her what I’ve discovered—about my father’s involvement in her disappearance, my conversation with Sherie, and my confrontation with my mother.

But she’s been through too much already today.

Taylor sits beside me again. "They look amazing," she says before taking a bite of one covered in chocolate.

"I wouldn’t know—I haven’t tasted them yet. But wait a moment..." I pull her onto my lap, straddling me, and kiss her mouth. "The best cupcake I’ve ever had," I say.

She looks at me, serious. "Never doubt me again."

"Never again, Taylor."

* * *

And finally, the day has arrived.

Even though we both already know the answer—since she hasn’t had her period in over three months—Taylor delayed getting confirmation for as long as she could.

If I were even a fraction less determined to stay by her side forever, I might feel uncertain. But I’ll never give up, so I gave her time to process her fear.

In the meantime, I became even more obsessed with her wellbeing and assembled a veritable army to protect her.

She spends much more time with me than with Jackie, and even though we haven’t labeled our relationship, it has never been just dating. She is more my wife than many women who have signed a document in front of a judge to make it official.

But I’m not just a man in love—I’m also a control freak. And I won’t stop until there’s a damn certificate stating to the entire world that we belong to each other.

We’re in the doctor’s office at my hospital. I don’t need an obstetrician to tell us the results—I could access them online myself—but I don’t want to rush anything anymore.

"Congratulations to both of you," says Dr. Hickle Sodder, the obstetrician. "You’re going to be parents. I assume you have some questions," he continues, smiling and looking directly at me—he’s known me for years—"but I’ll leave you alone for a moment so you can talk."

He closes the door, but I barely notice. I’m focused on her. She’s staring at her hands.

"Aren’t you happy?" I ask.

"I already knew."

"So did I."

"Are you happy?"

"You are the woman I’m crazy about, Taylor. How could I not be happy? We need to start planning the wedding."

I know the moment she looks at me that it was the wrong thing to say. But I’m fucking nervous and screwing everything up.

"You said you fell in love with me multiple times. If that’s true, if it’s real, you’ll wait."

" Wait? "

"Yes. I don’t want to marry you until I remember everything."

My first instinct is to deny her request, to insist.

But for the first time, I put myself in her shoes.

I imagine what it would be like if all I remembered of my past were fleeting flashes.

It sounds like a fucking nightmare.

"See Athanasios. He can help you."

"No, I want to remember on my own."

I do my best to control my frustration. "I’ll wait. But I want you to move in with me."

"I . . .”

"I’m compromising, Taylor. And you know me well enough to understand how hard that is for me. You have to make some concessions too."

"Alright."

* * *

"I can’t force her to visit you, Grandma."

"I don’t hold a grudge against her anymore."

"But the same can’t be said for her."

I told Maryann what Sherie had told me, as well as my mother’s confirmation. Even before knowing my woman was pregnant, Grandma was already feeling remorseful and tried to reach out to Taylor.

I know they spoke for over an hour on the phone. I was right there beside her.

I heard her tell my grandmother that she forgave her but she wasn’t ready to visit yet because she couldn’t bring herself to kiss someone she still resented.

I admire her honesty. And as much as I love Maryann, Taylor has the right not to see her yet.

"I know," she finally says. "I judged and condemned her."

"We all did."

"But she forgave you."

"Not yet. But she will, one day."

"You’ve changed a lot."

"I love her, Maryann. And that’s not going to change. Taylor is my woman, she will be the mother of my child, but she is also my home. And I won’t rest until I’ve won her back completely."