Page 11

Jennifer

Present Day

S teven was still standing outside Dylan’s room when I returned. “Everything good?”

I nodded quickly, nervously. “Dylan’s parents are on their way. They want to be here in case he asks for them.”

Steven’s eyes widened before his expression closed again. “He just did, so when they get here, I’ll send them in.”

My breath escaped in a whoosh. “He really asked for them?”

“He did.”

“Does he... did he seem conflicted at all about that decision?”

“No. He doesn’t appear to remember ever having an issue with them.” Steven continued, “Despite recommendations to rest, he’s already called the managers of his resorts and given them instructions on how to handle his current absence. There was nothing spotty about his memory when talking to them.”

Clasping my hands before me, I attempted to wrap my head around what that might mean. “So, no memory of breaking up with me. No anger with his parents...”

“He remembers meeting me, but not the details that led to how I found him.”

“And that was?”

“Freshly beaten down by someone sent by the mob when he tangled with them over the purchase of his first resort.” When I didn’t immediately respond, Steven added, “He’d just walked away from his parents and their money. That purchase was the beginning of his rebuild.”

“He’s blocking out everything he doesn’t want to remember.”

“That’s what I’m beginning to believe.”

If that’s true, he doesn’t regret me—just how we ended. “What will happen when he remembers?”

“No idea. There’s no guarantee he ever will.”

I cleared my throat. “I keep seeing you talk to people you won’t let in to visit Dylan. Who are they?”

“People he’s not ready to remember yet.”

That sent chills down my back. “Are they dangerous?”

“I’m in the process of determining that.”

“Did they... were they involved with how he was hurt?”

Steven folded his arms across his chest. “Concentrate on helping Dylan get healthy again. I’ll keep both of you safe until he’s able to take over that role again.”

“Why wouldn’t we be safe? Who would want to hurt Dylan or me?” When he didn’t answer, I demanded, “If being here puts me in any danger, I have the right to know what to watch out for.”

Steven blinked as if my point had hit home, but when he didn’t offer more, I knew he wouldn’t. With a shake of my head, I turned away from him and headed into Dylan’s suite.

Dylan was sitting up in bed, already looking stronger, eyes more alert than they’d been since the crash.

He looked like Dylan again—the man who’d swept me onto a yacht and promised me the world.

But the sadness in his gaze mirrored mine and carried the weight of everything we’d lost. And everything I couldn’t say.

I stepped inside quietly. A tablet glowed on the bedside table, the screen displaying logos of his New England ski resorts—Stowe, Killington, Sugarloaf—his empire waiting for him to reclaim it. His eyes tracked me, too clear, too piercing.

“You look nervous,” he said, voice low and steady, beckoning me with a nod. “Come here, Jen.”

I crossed the room, my heart pounding, and stopped by his bed, the mattress’s edge pressing against my thigh, his warmth pulling me in. His hand reached for mine, a slight tremor betraying the effort required to keep it steady. “Things weren’t perfect between us, were they?”

I swallowed hard, taking his hand. I couldn’t lie while he was looking at me with his heart in his eyes. “No,” I admitted, my voice tight. “They weren’t.”

He nodded, as if he’d known, his gaze dropping to the ring glinting under the fluorescents.

“Steven and the doctors—they said it’s best for the memories to come back on their own so I won’t ask you to fill in the blanks.

” His thumb brushed my knuckles, warm and sure.

“But I need to know. Is there someone else? Is that why we’re not married?

Or...” His voice wavered, just a fraction. “Not even engaged anymore?”

The question cut deep, sharp as the wreckage that brought me here.

I stared at the ring, its shine a cruel taunt.

It was better for him to know, but I wasn’t ready for the fantasy of being his again to end.

I blinked back tears and kicked myself for watching too many movies where situations like this led to happily-ever-afters.

Had I really expected him not to realize that I was lying to him?

That we’d run off somewhere, play house well enough and for long enough that when his memories returned, we’d be so solid he wouldn’t care?

How stupid could I have been? “There’s no one else,” I said, my voice heavy with regret I couldn’t voice.

His eyes searched mine like he was bracing for a betrayal he couldn’t name. “I don’t know what I did before the accident to put that look in your eyes,” he said, voice rough with feeling, “but I know how I feel about you. I love you, Jennifer. With everything in me. Nothing could change that.”

I wanted to believe that. My breath caught, and for a moment, I was back under that streetlamp eight years ago, with him promising to show me the world and me so afraid to believe in him—and us. The old Dylan—bold, unstoppable—shone through, unraveling me.

I hadn’t given my heart to him completely back then, even though I’d wanted to. I’d protected a part of myself, sure that he would one day betray me. Carla’s declaration that he loved her and not me had spoken to that broken part in me. Young and afraid to be made a fool of, I’d believed her.

Snippets from when Dylan had come to see me in Haverwick recently echoed in my thoughts:

“Carla was so convincing. She had pictures of the two of you together. At a pool in the Alps. Dancing. She sent them to me and I showed them to your parents. I wanted to know who she was. They said she was your cousin, but since you were adopted, maybe you didn’t see that as an issue.

Carla told them you wanted to break off our engagement to be with her. ”

“I didn’t.” Dylan had been adamant. “She lied to you—all of you.”

“I believe that now, but I couldn’t back then.”

He’d looked so sad. “I should have chased you down and done whatever it took to prove to you that you were the only woman I cared about. But you might not have believed me anyway, because you didn’t believe in me. None of you believed in me.”

“I’m sorry, Dylan.”

“Me too.”

That was only weeks ago. He’d said he would come back after he sorted some things out. We’d come to a place of mutual understanding... and maybe forgiveness. Please let that be one of the first things he remembers.

“It’s okay,” Dylan said, tugging me closer. “No bullshit. Don’t tell me what you think won’t upset me. I need to know—do you still love me?”

I sank onto the bed’s edge, my fingers lacing through his, his strength quieting my panic.

This was the man who’d believed in us, who’d swept me across oceans because my happiness was his purpose.

I’d survived without him, but, God, I’d missed him.

“I do,” I whispered, the words raw, true. “I never stopped.”

He exhaled, relief softening his face. “Then keep that ring on,” he said, fierce and certain. “We’ll work it out. Every bump. Every memory as it returns. If we choose us, we’ll make this work.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I nodded. “I don’t know how to do this. Be with you without talking through everything that happened.”

“If it’s too hard, tell me, and we’ll find another way. Maybe the doctors are wrong, and hearing what happened would be a catalyst for everything to come back to me.”

My hand shook in his. “We should do whatever is best for you.”

He shifted, wincing as his chest protested, but his gaze stayed locked on mine. “Then let’s ditch this place,” he said. “I have a home not too far from my parents. It’s where I go when I want some time to myself. It’s where I’d like to heal.”

“Even before your memories return? Will the doctors allow that?”

“I can afford home care,” he said with a wince as he adjusted his position. “And most of my injuries are minor.”

My heart was beating wildly in my chest. I wanted him to remember, but would he look at me the same way when he did?

“Jen.” His voice lowered. “I don’t know what I forgot, but it couldn’t possibly overshadow what it felt like to kiss you for the first time.

Do you remember? You agreed to have breakfast with me.

We got there early and stayed through the lunch rush, talking until talking was no longer enough and I had to taste you. ”

My face warmed. “I remember.”

“I knew then, just like I know now, that we belong together.”

“Back then, I was too afraid to believe in forever.” There, I said it.

There was nothing but love in his eyes when he said, “And now?”

Throat tight, I admitted, “It’s all I want.”

“Then come home with me, Jen. And we’ll figure the rest out.”

The door of the suite opened, and Steven announced, “Dylan, your parents are here. Would you like me to send them in?”