Bride in Trouble Page 6

  No longer would she be able to ring him and ask for his advice or help. She’d never be able to throw her arms around him again, and have that great bearhug he used to give, lifting her off the floor. She wouldn’t be able to buy him birthday cards that teased him about his age or his weight.

  The tears came, and she didn’t fight them; she just lay there and let the emotion wash over her. It was harsh and painful, but if she were honest with herself, it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected.

  Deep down, did she remember grieving the first time? Were her memories still stored in her mind, as if they were filed away in trunks in a dusty attic? Maybe her very cells had memory, so that her bones and her muscles and skin stored information of all her past experiences.

  Did that mean that deep inside was some memory of Rafe? Of the times they’d shared, of the feelings she’d had for him?

  There was no way of knowing. She’d just have to wait and see how she felt from day to day, rather than try to make decisions right now.

  Exhausted by the emotion of the day, she closed her eyes, but the touch of his lips on her cheek remained with her, even as she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Six

  When Rafe woke up at six-thirty and reached for his phone the way he did every morning, he discovered a text waiting for him from Phoebe.

  I’ve given it a lot of thought, the message said. And I’ve decided, I’d like to come home with you.

  That was all it said. Rafe read it, heart racing, barely able to believe his eyes. He’d gone to sleep convinced she’d choose to go with her mother.

  He lowered the phone and turned his head to look at the space beside him on the bed. It had felt odd the last few nights being alone. He’d gotten used to having Phoebe beside him, to being able to reach out and touch her in the night. To hearing her around the house, singing.

  He’d come so close to losing her. And not just because of the accident.

  The last few weeks—maybe even months—had been hard. Did everyone’s relationship feel strained in the lead up to a wedding? He guessed so. Not that he wasn’t looking forward to marrying her, because he was enough of a man to feel a sense of smug possessiveness at the thought of putting a ring on her finger.

  But there was no doubt that all the conversations they’d had about moving to Auckland had caused tension between them. Add to that the stress of organizing the wedding, and they’d been ripe for an explosion. The argument on Thursday hadn’t been their first, but it had been their biggest, and it had upset them both. When she’d shoved on her running shoes and left the house, Rafe had punched the door to the bedroom so hard he’d put his fist through it.

  He looked at the hole now, pursing his lips. Rising from the bed, he picked up a cinema poster they’d been given when they’d gone to the movies, collected some Blu-Tac, and stuck the poster over the hole. He didn’t want Phoebe to see it and start asking questions about that night. He’d raise the subject of their argument once she’d settled back in, and not before.

  Suppressing unease that he was keeping yet another secret from her, he returned to the bed, rolled onto his front, and replied to her text.

  <3<3<3 So pleased you’re coming home. Can I come and get you now?

  She replied within a minute. Need to get everything signed and cleared first. They think probably mid-morning.

  I’ll be leaving soon, he said. Do you want me to bring your mum?

  She replied: No, it’s okay, I’ve let her know that you’re picking me up.

  Cool, he said. I’ll see you soon, then. x

  He tossed the phone aside and leapt out of bed to get showered.

  *

  Just before eight-thirty, he pulled into the hospital car park and made his way up to the first floor.

  He found Phoebe sitting in the chair beneath the window, looking at her iPad. Stopping in the doorway, he leaned against the doorjamb for a moment. She sucked her bottom lip as she read, playing with a strand of her hair. It had been less than a week since they’d last made love, but he felt a deep sense of longing to hold her in his arms again, to have her wrapped around him, her mouth on his as she arched her back to meet his thrusts. At that moment, when he was inside her and she was looking into his eyes, her own hazy with passion, he knew that she was his, and he felt as if they’d be together forever.

  At that moment, she looked up and saw him standing there.

  “You’ve got to stop doing that,” she said.

  He came into the room. “Doing what?”

  “Watching me without me knowing. It creeps me out.”

  “You’ve got to get used to it. I do it a lot while you sleep.”

  “You do not,” she protested, her face turning pink.

  “All the time.” He smiled. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay.”

  She didn’t look great. Her skin was pale, and she had dark shadows under her eyes.

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said. “Didn’t you sleep well?”

  She gave him a challenging look, as if she was about to tell him not to boss her about, but in the end, she just said, “Not really. Part of the brain injury, apparently. I dozed, but I kept having these vivid dreams…” Her gaze slid past him, as if she was picturing the images in her mind.

  “What about?”

  “Flashes of light. Screaming. It might be from the accident, even though I can’t remember it when I wake up.”

  “I’m sorry.” He dropped to his haunches before her and took her hand in his.

  “Going to propose again?” she whispered.

  He smiled and brushed his thumb across the back of her hand. “Thank you for coming home with me.”

  She gave a little shrug. “I thought about it, and you were right that it seems like the best way to try to remember. If anyone’s going to jog my memory, I would think it would be my fiancé.” She looked up into his eyes then. “You have to promise me, though, that you won’t lie to me. If I ask you a question, I need you to tell me the truth. There’s no point me trying to rebuild the memories if I’m being given false information.”

  Rafe was tempted to cross his fingers behind his back, but he just nodded and said, “Of course.”

  Mollified, she rose and put on her slippers. “Shall we go and have a coffee? Apparently, the doctor won’t be around until ten.”

  “Okay.”

  They went down to the cafe, and Rafe bought them both a latte and a muffin, under Phoebe’s instructions.

  “Please tell me I still like muffins,” she said as she cut into the chocolate bun.

  “Honestly?” He broke open his own. “You don’t eat sweet things much either. I can’t remember the last time I saw you buy a bar of chocolate.”

  “Jesus. Are you sure I haven’t been possessed? Or taken over by aliens?” She shook her head and had a bite of the muffin. “Seriously, though. It’s so weird. I love muffins. And chocolate. And meat! How could I have changed so much and not remember it?”

  “I don’t know. It is odd, looking back, because you have changed a lot even since I’ve known you. But of course, it’s been gradual for me.”

  “What was I like when you met me?” She picked a chunk of chocolate off the top of the muffin and popped it into her mouth.

  “Like this,” he said softly. “Warm. Funny. Feisty.”

  She frowned and lowered the muffin, staring at it thoughtfully. “So, what am I like now?”

  “You’re more serious. You work very hard. You’re less frivolous.”

  “I don’t sound like a lot of fun.”

  “Life isn’t always about fun,” he said. They were her words, although she wouldn’t remember saying them. He watched her frown deepen.

  “I suppose…” she said slowly.

  “We can’t stay kids forever,” he continued. “We have to grow up sometime.” Again, they were her words, and they felt hard and cold in his mouth, like marbles rolling around.

/>   She’d asked him to be honest with her, and he wanted to. He wanted to say that she had become less fun, and that things had been tricky between them because of it. But it wouldn’t be fair when she couldn’t remember being like that.

  She cleared her throat. “All right. I tried to flick through some current events on the iPad—and by the way, oh my God the internet is so fast now! So much better than it was. But anyway, I was too tired to make sense of it all, so I thought I’d leave it to you to educate me.”

  Leaning back in his chair, he turned his coffee cup in his fingers. “I’m happy to teach you everything I know.”

  He hadn’t meant that to sound sexual, but for some reason it reminded him of when they’d met, and the first few times they’d gone to bed. She hadn’t been a virgin, but she hadn’t had much experience either, her two previous relationships being short and uninspired. With a propensity to direct in the bedroom, and an enjoyment of trying different positions and places in the house while they made love, he’d introduced her to a wide array of delights, and they’d spent a blissful week where they’d barely gotten out of bed.

  “I didn’t mean sex,” Phoebe said.

  He grinned. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Your eyes have glazed over.”

  “You’ll have to get used to that.”

  She gave him a wry look. “I’m not ready for that conversation yet. I meant politics and world events.”

  “Fair enough.” He looked forward to that conversation, though.

  He talked for a while about things that had changed since 2010, covering what he thought were the most important events of the decade.

  “I was hoping for more general information than who won the rugby world cups,” she said after a while.

  “Hey, Dan Carter and Richie McCaw’s retirement is the biggest thing to happen in New Zealand,” he informed her.

  “Tell me about the Christchurch earthquakes,” she said, leaning her head on a hand.

  His smile faded. “One was in September 2010, and then another bigger one followed in February 2011. 185 people were killed in the second one, and it devastated the city. The cathedral was hit and so were half the buildings in the business district. The roads buckled, and homes were broken apart.”

  “It must have been awful.”

  “It was shocking. The country’s still reeling seven years later.”

  She clutched her coffee cup, the shadows under her eyes making them seem huge in her skull. “I feel panicky every time I think about the volume of things I don’t know. How am I going to function in this world when I can’t remember my job or half the people around me?”

  “People will make allowances.”

  “My close friends and family might, but I’m going to look like seven kinds of idiot when I say things that don’t make any sense.”

  “That’s how most of us go through life, Phoebe. You need to relax. For the first time in your life, you’re out of control, and I know you find it scary, but you’re resourceful and smart, and whatever happens to your memory, we’ll find a way through. If worst comes to worst, we’ll hop on a boat and spend our lives floating around the Pacific Islands or something.”

  She didn’t say anything, and his stomach clenched. She didn’t remember him. It was as if a strange guy had walked up to her on the street and suggested she go away with him.

  “One step at a time,” he suggested.

  “Yeah.” She finished off her coffee.

  “Why don’t we go back to your room for a bit? You look tired.”

  She nodded, and they left the cafe and started walking back along the corridor. At one point, she stumbled, and he slipped an arm around her, holding her tightly while they waited for the elevator. She didn’t complain, but she stood stiffly, refusing to relax against him.

  When they reached her room, she climbed back onto the bed and curled up on her side.

  “Are you staying?” she asked.

  “Of course.” He sat back in the chair under the window. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She closed her eyes, and, within seconds, she was asleep.

  Rafe slid down in the seat, leaning his head on the back. She looked frail, much too thin. He’d enjoyed watching her eat the muffin, the sheer way she’d tucked into it. It had been a long time since she’d eaten like that. She picked at her food nowadays like a sparrow, refusing anything except what she needed to fuel her body for her training.

  How strange that she didn’t remember running. It had become a big part of both of their lives. He hadn’t minded; he’d helped with her training, taken her to the events, and had always been supportive, because that’s what you did when your partner was passionate about something. He’d stopped at joining her, because he had no interest in spending his free time working so hard, although sometimes they went to the gym together. His job was a physical one, and it was important to keep fit, but it wasn’t an obsession for him.

  What would happen if her memory didn’t return? Would she go back to running? Would it be as if those eight years hadn’t happened, and she’d return to being the person she’d been at eighteen? Or would she do something entirely different? None of it was certain. The accident was going to change both their lives in one way or another.

  The sun rose in the sky, and Rafe watched her sleep, trying to believe that she wasn’t slipping away from him.

  Chapter Seven

  By eleven-thirty, Phoebe had been cleared by the doctor, and they were in the car, on the road home.

  “You’re sure about this?” Rafe said. “You don’t want one more night there to be on the safe side?”

  The doctor had examined her and declared she could go home if she wanted, although he was a little worried about her headaches and the non-return of her memory. But the last thing she needed was to spend another night in the hospital. It was too hot, and the bed was uncomfortable, and even though she’d been lucky enough to have her own room, it was still noisy in the ward, and she’d slept badly.

  “No, I’m looking forward to going… home.” Her pause was brief, but Rafe glanced at her.

  “I know you won’t remember it, but don’t worry. Hopefully seeing your things around the place will make it comfortable for you.”

  She nodded, looking out of the window. She was going to take this one tiny step at a time.

  “Tell me about being a firefighter,” she said, as they left the town of Whangarei behind them and the countryside opened out. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the forested hills in the distance were a rich green, the flat-topped volcanoes standing out against the bright blue sky.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “How long have you been one?”

  “Since I left school at eighteen. There were seven-hundred applications for forty-eight positions, and I was lucky enough to get one. I took a twelve-week training course in Rotorua, worked in Wellington for a while, then luckily got a transfer back up here.”

  “Are you from the Bay of Islands?”

  “Born and bred in Paihia. It’s a good part of the world. Sun, sea, surf, and…” He grinned. She just knew he’d been about to say sex. “Great food,” he said instead.

  She glanced across at him. Today he was wearing tight dark jeans and an All Blacks short-sleeved rugby shirt. Made of some stretchy material, it fit tightly across his arms and chest. It showed off his defined abs, and… oh my God… was that a six-pack?

  “You work out,” she stated before she could think better of it.

  “I have to stay fit.” He glanced at her, and she saw his eyes slide down to her breasts before returning to the road.

  “Did you just eye-dip me?” she demanded.

  He gave a short laugh. “You were looking at my abs.”

  “I was doing research.”

  “Yeah, right,” he scoffed. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed.

  “It’s weird,” she said. “You’ve seen m
e naked.” Of course, she’d seen him naked, too. She’d tugged this guy’s shirt up, stripped it off, and run her hands over his smooth, tanned, muscled body. She’d slid down the zipper of his jeans and pulled them off. Then she’d helped him off with his boxers, and… holy moly.

  He chuckled. “You’ve gone scarlet. What are you thinking about?”

  “Chocolate,” she said.

  “Ha! It’s good to know you haven’t changed that much.”

  “Rafe! Jeez. Let’s change the subject.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Tell me about our social life. Our friends. What do we do in our spare time?”

  “I’ll tell you,” he said, “but of course we’re moving soon, so everything’s going to change.”

  He started to talk about their friends and the places they went for a drink in the evenings, but Phoebe couldn’t help but ponder on what he’d said. There was definitely an undercurrent beneath his words. A friction between them concerning the move to Auckland.

  Thinking too hard made her brain hurt, though, so she filed it away for later, and listened to him talk about their friends. Most of the names he mentioned she didn’t know, people he obviously worked with and their partners, friends she’d made along the way.

  “I’m going to have to meet everyone at some point,” she said. “That’s going to be so embarrassing when I don’t remember their names.”

  “You’ve had a brain injury. Everyone’s just thrilled you’re alive. And don’t worry. We’ll take it easy the first few days. I’m not going to drag you around to see everyone. I want this time to be about you and me.”

  She looked out of the window, not sure how to reply. Maybe she should have stayed with her mother after all. The thought of being the focus of Rafe’s attention made goosebumps rise on her skin. What on earth was she doing? How could she have thought this was a good idea?

  “You look worried,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I’m thinking about the wedding,” she replied. “A lot of organization must have gone into it. If we wait too long to cancel, it’ll be a waste of a lot of money. Wouldn’t it be best to do it sooner rather than later?”