Page 27 of Your Love (Merrimack Mavericks Hockey #3)
Chapter 27
“Shimmer”
Kerri - Age 19, 1989
T he moment my memory came rushing back was not at all what I had expected. It wasn’t a wave of overwhelming joy and the desire to share with everyone I had missed, especially Landry. Instead, it hit me like a physical shockwave, knocking me to my knees.
As the memories flooded my mind, I found myself wanting to keep them just for me for a bit longer. I needed time to sort through them, the good and the bad, the ones I had been avoiding and the ones that brought me happiness.
Despite having everything back in my mind, it all still felt like a distant dream. I began meeting with a therapist recommended by my doctor and continued journaling to help make sense of everything.
Through the sessions, it became clear that part of the reason my memories were so jumbled after the accident was that I never truly confronted things head-on with Beau. I thought I had moved on, but in reality, I never allowed myself to grieve for the years he took from me. The trust he shattered and, ultimately, the home he forced me to leave.
I left everything behind out of fear for him, and even though this past year has been filled with some of my happiest moments, deep down, I know I wouldn’t have left if it weren’t for him. I am finally starting to come to terms with this.
For now, only my parents and grandparents know about my memory returning. They were sworn to secrecy to respect my privacy.
The day my memory returned was just over three months ago. It’s now Autumn in Merrimack as I get ready for my first trip back. I carefully fold my clothes and zip up my suitcase; my mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
On one hand, I can’t wait to see my grandparents and spend time in Merrimack again. But on the other, the thought of facing my friends, especially Landry, fills me with anxiety. I’ve had to make some tough decisions recently, and I know our conversations won’t be easy. Thankfully, Mama will be traveling with me, and her presence brings me comfort and strength.
The flight isn’t turbulent, but my stomach drops from anxiety as we land. I rush out of my seat, grab my carry-on bag, and run down the aisle to the exit, leaving Mama to fend for herself.
As soon as I see Papa waiting for me, tears well up in my eyes. He envelops me in a tight hug, a hug only a grandfather can give, and his signature aftershave fills my nose. I don’t remember seeing him in the hospital, although I know they came before I was fully aware.
“Looks like you got your noggin’ all fixed up,” he says with a grin. I can’t help but laugh.
“For the most part, Papa. I’ve still got some stuff to figure out.”
He takes our luggage as we head toward the airport exit, chatting and catching up along the way. “Nana’s been counting down the days to see you,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. “She’s made her famous meatloaf for supper tonight. If we’re late, she’ll put us all in the doghouse,” he jokes.
The comforting scent of home-cooked food wafts through the air as I sit at the familiar table with my grandparents and my mom. The warm, golden light from the lamps casts a soothing glow over us, creating a cozy, familiar atmosphere. I didn’t realize how much I missed this place until I came back. I have so many memories here, and I can’t help but revisit everything that’s happened in this house since I first arrived from Texas. My therapist’s advice to live in the moment and not let future worries consume me rings in my ears, but it’s difficult to put into practice right now.
I try to sound nonchalant, even though my heart is caught in my throat. “Papa, what time will Landry be here in the morning?” Landry stayed on to help out my grandparents when he returned from seeing me. From what they tell me, he’s here several days per week, and they wouldn’t be able to do it without them.
“He comes around 7:00 a.m., Kerri Ann,” he says. “He’s doing a great job around here. He’s been a Godsend.”
I force down the knot in my throat, trying to appear composed. “I think it’s time for me to head to bed. I’m pretty tired.” My family’s concerned faces prick at me, making me feel exposed. I’m not doing a good job of hiding my inner turmoil.
A warm cup of coffee, the color of smoked caramel, warms my hands as I grip it between my palms. The scent surrounds me, and I stand in front of the kitchen window, looking out at the calm of the early morning.
That calm is broken moments later by the loud rumblings of a pickup truck. I barely slept last night thinking about seeing Landry today.
Last night, when I went upstairs, I took the easy way out and called Sascha and Ivy. They were both so excited to hear from me and giddy when they learned I had gotten my full memory back.
Sascha is away at school for the new semester, but hopefully, I can find a way to see her sooner rather than later. Ivy and I had a longer talk, where I shared a bit more of what I’ve been going through.
She understands more than anyone else how I’m feeling right now. Having gone through the trauma that she did and then choosing to find herself in the aftermath, there’s nothing I can tell her that she doesn’t understand. I’m hoping to spend time with her at some point during this trip.
The truck stops in the dirt in front of the barn, and Landry jumps out wearing his signature boots, tight denim jeans, a plain white T-shirt that stretches across his chest, and a baseball cap. He confidently strides over and disappears inside the barn to begin his work day.
I take one last sip of coffee, still holding the cup with my two shaky hands, before setting it down and pulling my cardigan sweater a little tighter around my body. I take a deep breath and march outside toward the barn. There’s a slight chill in the air, reminding me that I’m not in Texas.
When I enter the barn, Landry’s back is to me, working on the small tractor Papa bought. He said he got it for a steal, but the damn thing is always breaking down. That would explain Landry tinkering around with something and cursing under his breath.
“Maybe you should hit it with a hockey stick,” I suggest with a smirk.
Landry whirls around, his eyes as big as saucers—his big, beautiful amber-colored eyes that make me hate myself. “Kerri? What are you doing here?” he says in a pitch that’s easily three times higher than his normal voice.
He reaches me in four quick strides and puts his hands out but stops short of hugging me. Instead, he places his hand on my arm over the sweater, and the heat seeps through to my skin, searing me in the best way.
“It’s so good to see you,” he says, looking me over. “You look wonderful.”
“Thank you,” I reply, trying to control the hammering in my heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would’ve picked you up.”
“My mom and I came together. Papa picked us up.”
Landry’s brow furrow. “So you’re not staying?”
I don’t want to have this conversation right now. He has work to do, and I feel like I’m about to combust. “Do you think we could talk when you’re done today?”
“Of course,” he says, confusion lacing through his words. “I don’t have a full day to put in, so why don’t I come up to the house in a few?”
I’m already on my way out as I say. “See you then.”
I quickly go back to my room and look through my clothes, but nothing seems right. After showering and starting to feel a bit more human, I put on jeans and a sweater and pull my hair back into a wavy ponytail. I apply minimal makeup, just enough to cover my tired eyes as much as possible, and then pace the floor until lunchtime.
The sound of the front door opening and voices echoing through the house interrupts my thoughts. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the queasiness in my stomach, before walking down the stairs. Landry is at the sink, his hands dripping with water as he washes them. He turns when he hears me approach and leans against the sink, drying his hands on one of Nana’s “Bless this kitchen” hand towels.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hi,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “Can we take a walk?’
“Are you feeling up for it?” he asks, concern etched on his face. “We can take the golf cart if you want.”
I shake my head. “I’m okay.”
Landry opens the door for me and gestures for me to go first before following behind me. The crisp air hits my skin as we step outside, the familiar sights and scents of the property filling my senses. We walk in silence for a few minutes, soaking in the peacefulness of our surroundings.
“I noticed your sling and cast are gone,” Landry observes, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” I reply with a small smile. “I did physical therapy, and I’m just about back to normal.”
“That’s great,” he says.
We come to a stop in front of the chicken coop, and I lean against the wooden fence, my fingers tracing the lines in the wood. I can’t bring myself to look at him right now, even though he deserves it for what I’m about to tell him. “I remember, Landry,” I say softly.
I wait for some kind of reaction, maybe excitement or joy, but instead, he leans against the fence next to me and lets out a long sigh. His shoulders slump as he asks, “How long?”
“Everything started coming back a few months ago. It was a picture from Paisley that sparked things.”
He hangs his head, his eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I knew on some level. You’ve been different when we talk on the phone, which hasn’t been much. And showing up out of the blue was a big hint.”
I reach out and place my hand on his arm, trying to comfort him. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I needed to figure everything out.”
He nods but still can’t bring himself to meet my gaze. I can feel his hurt radiating off him in waves.
My heart aches as I plead with him. “Landry, please look at me.”
He finally turns those piercing amber eyes towards me, and I can see the pain etched in every line of his face. It guts me to know that I am the source of that pain. “I don’t know what I’m doing right now,” I continue, my voice trembling. “But I know I need to stay in Texas, at least for now. I have school figured out, and my therapist, and my parents—it’s where I need to be.”
He studies me for a moment, his gaze intense. “Do you remember everything?” he asks softly. “Every single thing?”
Tears well up in my eyes as I nod, unable to speak.
“But you don’t love me anymore?” he asks, his voice breaking.
My throat tightens as I struggle to find the words. “I will always love you,” I choke out. “But right now, that’s not what this is about. I’m taking time to love myself and face everything from my past so that I can move forward without any emotional baggage.”
He stares at me with a mix of sadness and understanding. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks gently.
“No,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m learning that there’s a difference between what I might want and what I should do.”
His eyes soften at my response. “I will wait for you,” he says, his voice filled with determination. “I’ve told you that before, and I meant it.”
I take a deep breath, trying to gather my courage. “Landry, I need you to really hear me right now,” I say, my voice shaking slightly. “I mean, really hear me.”
He nods, his gaze never leaving mine. The sadness that stretches across his face makes my heart ache.
“You cannot wait for me.” My voice cracks with emotion. “I don’t know what my future holds, but I will be back in Texas for at least the next year. I’m finishing my Associate’s degree there before I consider moving anywhere else.”
“I don’t care how long it takes,” Landry says firmly.
“But I care. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I care about your heart, even though it might not seem like it right now. I can’t move forward knowing that you are waiting here for something I can’t promise.”
“But you remember everything. You know how much we love each other.”
“I do. And that’s exactly why I need you to promise me you will let us go. Because I love you, and I won’t continue to hurt you. If you love me, I mean genuinely love me, you will let me go.”