Forget Me Not (Escape Contemporary Romance) (22 page)

She and Stefan couldn’t be together. It wasn’t the end of the world, only the end of
her
world, this dream world she’d constructed and had always known wouldn’t last. Dreams never do.

Life alone would get easier. She’d been through worse. And if she could live without Matthew, she could live without Stefan, too.

That’s what she told herself.

If only she believed.

‘How can you even suggest we stay here indefinitely?’ With a look of disgust, Barbara Porter’s gaze shifted around the room as if it was a prison and not a luxurious suite, then back at her husband sitting on the other side of the table. ‘That was never the plan. Besides which, we can’t let that woman run our lives for us.’

‘This isn’t about her.’ James reached for her hand. ‘It’s about Stefan.’

Barbara pulled her fingers away, placing her hands on her lap. ‘How can you say that? You’ve seen what she’s done. She’s always twisting our words, trying to turn our son away from us. Not trying, damn it, she’s succeeded. Again.’

‘I don’t like her any more than you do but, I repeat, this is not about her. Stefan chose her once before. He may well choose her again. That’s up to him. But what do you want to do? Up and leave this country and never see our son again? Forget about him? He doesn’t know who we are. We don’t mean anything to him anymore and, if we leave now, that’s how it’ll stay.’

Barbara seemed like she was going to explode, a look he’d seen many times. ‘Stefan has always been different. He never appreciated everything we did for him. Not like Caroline.’

They’d argued about Caroline the night before. She’d called for a long chat with her mother; they’d talked about shopping and friends and the Caribbean. To hear them speak, you wouldn’t think they had a son or a brother with a disorder that even the doctors didn’t understand.

James had felt his anger rising and grabbed the phone, asking Caroline why she hadn’t phoned her brother and showed more concern. She insisted she had and, to be fair, she’d called him. Once.

Eventually, he’d gotten it out of her. Caroline was scared and uncomfortable, didn’t know what to say to Stefan, and didn’t know how to handle the situation. He had to agree with her—that last part was patently clear.

If it’s hard for you
, he’d said,
think about how damn hard it is for your brother.

Caroline and Barbara were like two peas in a pod. He loved them both, but this wasn’t about them and he wouldn’t let his wife turn the conversation around.

Stefan had always been more like James and not just in looks. His academic talent had come directly from his father, as had his ambitious streak and leadership skills, but Stefan had always been his own man. He’d started off as a little clone but he’d changed. For better or worse, they had to accept that.

‘Stefan
will
get his memory back,’ Barbara stated. ‘One day, he will remember us.’

‘I believe that, too.’ James glanced upwards. ‘God willing. But in the meantime, we have to deal with it.’

‘We can’t stay here forever. We have commitments and obligations at home in New York.’

‘You have social engagements.
I
have business obligations but I can deal with those via the phone and email, by putting a hold on some things and delegating others. I’m not talking about forever. This is just for a few weeks, maybe a few months.’

Tight-lipped, Barbara didn’t say anything. James let her stew. He’d be damned if he was going to budge on this.

She looked him in the eye. ‘I love my son and I won’t have you or anyone else suggest otherwise.’

‘We both love him, darling. The question is, what are we going to do about it?’

A beat passed. ‘Don’t you mean, where are we going to stay?’

James had known she’d come around.
He
was the one who wore the pants in the family, even if it didn’t always look that way.

‘I’ll leave that up to you,’ he said. ‘This hotel is lovely but we might be more comfortable in a serviced apartment, and as I said, it’s only for a few months. We can take a break, if we like, visit the Blue Mountains for a couple of days, just the two of us.’

Barbara’s lips twisted into a long overdue smile. ‘I’d like that.’

‘Stefan won’t want to see too much of us.’

Her smile disappeared. ‘Last time, he didn’t seem very pleased to see us at all.’

‘We’ll have to take it slowly. And he
will
get his memory back. I know he will.’

James knew no such thing although he sure as hell hoped Stefan would, and would then his life back together. Then his son would remember why he’d left Claire in the first place; he could go back to work, be a whole man again and rejoin the human race.

Surely they could do better than this…this mess they were in. James had no expectations they’d be playing happy families any time soon, or at all, but at the very least they could be on civil terms with their son.

Chapter Twenty-One

What kind of life was this? What was the point of any of it?

Stefan had more than enough money to get by and didn’t have to work again if he didn’t want to. He was set up in his own apartment, and could cook and take care of himself. He might not have his memory but he wasn’t completely incompetent and, as the doctor had told him, he was otherwise healthy.

He could have a life.

Just not the one he wanted.

Damn Claire for doing this, for forcing him to leave. God knows he couldn’t stay with her after their conversation yesterday, after everything she’d said.

She’d told him she cared too much but that wasn’t the truth.

Stefan hadn’t told her the truth either:
I think I love you
. He didn’t
think
anything. He knew it, felt it deep in his gut, in his heart.

Sure, he might be a shell of a man but he still had feelings, damn it, and there was no doubt this was love. No other emotion could have made him feel so good one minute and so lousy the next. There was no other explanation.

Sitting on the sofa, Stefan bent over to lace up his sneakers. He was going for a walk. After all, he had to do something or he was going to go crazy staying in this sterile apartment. He’d only slept there one night and already he was at his wit’s end.

Claire had been clear with him. There was no hope for them, regardless of whether or not his memory came back.

So what the hell was he going to do?

Slinging his backpack over one shoulder, he closed the front door behind him and scooted down the stairs two at a time. He hadn’t told Claire about the flashback. He hadn’t known what to make of it himself and didn’t know if it constituted a proper memory.

It’d happened yesterday when he was about to leave the park. A picture had flashed before his eyes of a teddy with a spotted bow tie. Yet he couldn’t be sure that was what he’d seen.

They’d talked about the baby and teddy bears seemed to follow from that. That could have been where the idea had come from. The teddy he’d seen had been wearing a bright, spotted bow tie, similar to the one the doctor at the hospital had worn. His mind had probably constructed the teddy from that.

But in the picture in Stefan’s head, he’d had his hands on the teddy, had felt it’s softness in his grasp.
His
hands, not someone else’s. Where had that come from?

He’d also felt a flash of painful emotion that shook him to his core. It had been so quick he still didn’t recognise what it had been but it had hit him hard: strong, overwhelming and painful.

But you didn’t feel memories. None of this made sense.

No point worrying about it now. He was done. There was no hope.

Opening the front door of the apartment building, Stefan looked up into the sky and felt a gentle breeze on his face. The sky was a crisp blue with fluffy white clouds that looked like someone had painted them on. At least today was a perfect day. He set of at a cracking pace and headed up the street. He didn’t belong there or anywhere else.

Within twenty minutes, Stefan reached Finn’s Fine Foods and had loaded up his bag with bread still warm from the oven; thinly-sliced prosciutto; fresh pasta; and an assortment of other delicacies. He might feel miserable but he had to eat.

Heading back to his apartment, Stefan was plowing up a steep hill when he spotted a mother pushing a twin stroller with one hand, and holding the little fingers of a toddler in a Spiderman outfit in the other. She looked like had her work cut out for her.

Preparing to stride past them, Stefan saw a chubby arm holding a bright pink hat stretch out over the side of the stroller. The child let go and the hat dropped onto the pavement.

Swooping it up quickly, he called out, ‘Excuse me.’

The mother turned and looked at him blankly, and then saw the hat in his hand. ‘Thank you.’ She took it from him and shoved it into her shoulder bag. ‘I might give up on the hat for now.’

Though he hadn’t been paying attention, at the corner of his eye he saw a flash of red and blue and heard a child’s shrill voice yelling, ‘Doggie.’

In an instant, the toddler ran between the parked cars inches from the busy street.

Quick as a flash, Stefan stepped across and swept the child up into one arm.

The boy looked back at him blankly. ‘Doggie,’ he repeated.

His heart racing, Stefan heaved a sigh of relief and passed the boy to his mother. The poor woman must have been in shock, standing frozen on the pavement for a moment before stretching out her arms and wrapping them around the toddler She squeezed him like she was never going to let him go.

Looking up, she thanked Stefan profusely, saying over and over how she couldn’t understand how the child had run out so quickly. Then she put the child down and reprimanded him, pointing her finger at him as she spoke. The way the child’s face clouded over made Stefan smile though, it wouldn’t have been amusing if the boy had been hurt.

Stefan waited until the mother had finished, then crouched beside the boy. ‘What’s your name? Is it Spiderman?’

‘Daniel,’ he said proudly.

Stefan’s expression became serious. ‘Your mum’s right. You have to listen to her. How old are you?’

‘Three.’

‘He’s only
just
turned three,’ the mother added.

Stefan stood and glanced down at the twins in the stroller. One child was dressed in pink, the other in blue, so Stefan figured they weren’t identical, but all babies looked the same to him. ‘And these guys?’ he asked.

‘Oliver and Julia are nine months old.’

His gaze shifted back to the mother as she picked up the boy again, and Stefan saw something he’d never seen before. He saw it in the naturalness of her posture, the way her body moulded itself around the boy’s, in the tilt of her head as she looked down, and in the intensity of her gaze. She looked at Daniel as though there was nothing more important in the world. And there wasn’t.

Stefan felt a sharp pain just about his heart; a mother’s love, that’s what it was, clear as daylight.

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she repeated. Her eyes were on Stefan briefly before they returned to her son. ‘Maybe Mummy can carry you for a while.’

‘Yes, please,’ came the shrill reply.

She looked back at Stefan. ‘Are you all right? You look like you’re in shock.’

‘I’m fine.’

Stefan strode up the hill, faster than the woman and her kids, but instead of heading back to his apartment, he crossed the street towards a small park on the corner and sat on a bench. His backpack on his lap, he felt inside and rummaged around, but couldn’t find what he was looking for. So then he took out each item, one by one, and placed them on the bench beside him.

Stefan dug his hand in and pulled out the scrap of paper, carefully unfolding it. A receipt from Gerard’s Gifts. That part at least made sense now.

He thought about his apartment, his so-called bachelor pad. He didn’t care for it, didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to stay there.

A picture flashed in his mind of the other apartment, the one he and Claire had lived in together, had found together. He realised he now remembered the first time he’d seen it.

Both first times.

Claire had been worried it was too expensive but he could tell she’d fallen in love with it the first minute she saw it. Money didn’t matter anyway, not to him.

The apartment had been newly decorated before going on the market, but the previous owners had stripped out some of the deco features. He and Claire had both wanted to restore the place to its original look. When a downstairs apartment was being gutted, they’d bought the old pale-green pedestal basin and matching bathtub, along with several other pieces. It had been like a salvage yard on their doorstep.

Claire’s apartment was their home, the place where they’d built their lives together.

And let them crumble.

The kid’s mother had been right. He
was
in shock but not in the way she’d that.

Why now of all times? Would it have happened anyway regardless of where he was or what he was doing? Or had there been some trigger? Not that it mattered. Nothing would change.

He hadn’t been looking for clues, hadn’t been digging for answers, hadn’t had any expectations.

But the answers had come, along with expectations and direction. Stefan had never been so sure of anything in his life.

He should go back to his apartment and dump the groceries, or maybe he shouldn’t even bother doing that. He had to go back to Gerard’s and get to Claire’s place as quickly as he could. He still had a key but wasn’t sure if she’d be in, though that was okay. He could wait if he had to.

Finally, he knew exactly where he was going.

Claire turned the knob and held the door open a few inches. The Beatles were playing. He had the stereo on. His way of letting her know he was here before she walked through the door.

But she didn’t want him here, didn’t want to deal with this now.

Claire pushed the door open, closing it shut behind her, her eyes riveted to the sofa where Stefan sat.

‘I let myself in,’ he said. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

‘As a matter of fact, I do.’

She strode into the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, poured herself some water from the tap and quickly drank. Gin might have been better, but she’d do without it.