Page 38 of Lust & Lies

From my dreams, I knew our past was a bit troublesome. I knew we wanted to run away from everything. I also knew there could be some things I hadn’t recalled yet that would probably disappoint me. No one was perfect. I’m sure Aiden had many faults, as did I.

I was sure I’d recall those soon. I just had to be patient and stop jumping to conclusions. However, even while I loved being with my husband, there was this lingering doubt at the back of my mind that couldn’t be kissed away, fucked away, or loved away.

It was always there. And it reared its head every now and then, making me question things like the shed. It was just a damn shed. Why was I so worked up about it? I sighed, tears blurring my vision momentarily.

I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. I wasn’t some weakling who cried over everything. It was just... I just couldn’t shake this feeling, this fear, that I would one day recall something that would shatter this fairytale Aiden had spun for me.

I didn’t want that to happen. I’d rather have never experienced this type of love at all than to have experienced it only to find out it was just an illusion. God, please don’t let it be an illusion. I don’t think I could handle that.

I couldn’t let what-ifs bring me down. I pushed all negative energy and thoughts away. I washed my face and took another moment to calm down before leaving the bathroom. When I arrived in the kitchen, Aiden was already there.

“Here’s some lemonade,” he told me, being the green flag that he was.

He handed me a tall glass of lemonade with a slice of lemon in it and a straw. After thanking him, I took a sip. The cold liquid felt good going down my throat.

“Go sit outside while I put this in the oven,” he told me.

I stared down at what Dolores had prepared.

“Is that shrimp and chicken alfredo?” I asked.

“Yeah. One of your favorites. It’s done. Just needs to be heated up.”

Dolores had even written a note on it with the temperature and amount of time Aiden needed to leave it in the oven.

“I’ll wait for you,” I told him, noticing his glass of lemonade on the counter.

“Alright. I’ll only be a minute.”

I sipped my lemonade while he put the food in the oven and set the temp and timer.

“This won’t take long,” he told me, grabbing his lemonade. “In the meantime, we can sit on the porch like an old couple.”

“Come on, old man.”

“Okay, old lady.”

We went outside and sank into the two chairs on the patio, glasses in hand. I sipped my drink, savoring the tartness of the lemonade. However, I couldn’t help but notice the way Aiden kept staring at me instead of his drink.

“What?” I asked, trying not to blush.

“Nothing. Just memorizing this moment,” he said softly. “You. Me. Us. Right now. At our dream house. No stress. Just happiness and lemonade. This feels perfect.”

That’s because he didn’t know of the stress I was holding in. I thought back to my dream and how badly we’d wanted to escape reality for a while. Mission accomplished. This was what I’d wanted. I needed to stop letting doubts stress me and enjoy this time with my husband.

“This is perfect,” I told him. “And you made it happen. Thank you, Aiden.”

I reached across the space between us and placed my hand over his. He turned his palm up, linking our fingers together. And right there, on our back patio, sipping lemonade and holding Aiden’s hand, I knew this was the life I wanted.

A quiet life, away from the hustle and bustle of the world, with just me and my husband. Oh, and our garden. This was the life. And it was mine. I just hoped I cherished it and didn’t let my doubts tarnish it. We sat there for a while longer before Aiden spoke up again.

“The food should be ready now.”

“How do you know? I didn’t hear the timer.”

He smirked as we stood. “Chef’s instinct.”

I shook my head as we walked inside. Sure enough, the faint beep of the oven timer filled the kitchen.

“Unbelievable. You really do have chef instincts.”

He tugged on a pair of oven mitts while I drifted to the island. The smell hit me the moment he opened the oven, creamy, savory, rich. My stomach growled, and my mouth watered.

“I love the smell of shrimp and chicken alfredo,” I said, ready to sink my teeth into it.

“I know,” he stated, pulling the dish out and setting it on the counter.

I felt lazy just sitting around doing nothing. I may not be able to cook, but I could prepare our plates. I got up and grabbed two plates, setting them down on the island while he stirred the steaming pasta.

“Pour us some juice while I plate the food,” I told him, already reaching for the serving spoon.

“Yes, boss,” he agreed, moving to the fridge to get the juice.

We moved around the kitchen in sync, no missteps, no fumbling or bumping into each other. Just an easy familiarity that made it feel like we’d been doing this for years. Perhaps we had, and I just couldn’t remember it.

Instead of sitting across from me once everything was ready, he pulled out my chair for me and then pulled out the one beside mine and sat down. Clingy ass. Holding in my smile, I dug into the food. The first bite had me moaning, my eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh my God, this is so good.”

Aiden chuckled low. “Foodie.”

“Absolutely. I’m not even ashamed to admit it,” I told him, twirling another forkful.

We ate like that, side by side, in comfortable silence. Every now and then, he’d nudge my leg with his, or I’d swipe my fork at his plate, eating some of his food just to annoy him. He did the same to mine, snagging a plump shrimp I’d been eyeing.

Halfway through the meal, Aiden’s phone rang. I stilled, fork hovering midair as he set his down and reached into his pocket for his phone. His gaze lingered on the screen before flicking over to me.

“I’ll step out and take this,” he muttered, looking slightly upset.

I swallowed, curiosity sparking. “Who is it?”

“Work,” he said smoothly.

Work? Was he lying? Why would he lie? Why was I being like this? Why was I doubting him... again? I nodded, forcing my focus back to my plate even as my mind spun, mentally creating a mountain out of a mole hill.

I didn’t want to be the kind of wife who hovered or questioned everything her husband did. Not when he’d been nothing but good to me. Still... a part of me wondered who was really on the other end of that call, and why he had to leave the room to discuss it.

I sighed as he got up from his seat and left the room. I considered being nosy and going after him to listen in on his call, but thought better of it. As I watched him leave the room, I couldn’t get rid of a sinking feeling that something was wrong.

I stared back down at my plate, hating the way I was feeling. I’d told myself I wouldn’t do this. I’d told myself I wouldn’t overreact or look for problems where there were none. It was perfectly fine for him to have work matters that he didn’t discuss in front of me.

That wasn’t keeping secrets, that was business. Plus, I already knew we were hiding from our past. I knew, and I hadn’t told him. So, why was I getting upset when this could be the past calling, trying to interfere with us?

And here I was, letting it. Sighing, I tried to continue eating, but the food no longer tasted good to me. Even so, I forced it down as tears filled my eyes. Ugh! What was wrong with me?

Though I was trying my best to be happy in the moment, I knew I wouldn’t truly be content until my memory returned. Until then, I would always be waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’d always be waiting for the past to jump out and slap me in the face.

I’d always second-guess things and see issues where there were none. I needed my memory back. And I needed it now before my mind and my fears caused me to ruin a good thing. But I couldn’t help but wonder if getting it back would bring my fears to life.

What if getting my memories back ruined what I had right now with Aiden?