Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
"They didn't know what to call me at the hospital," I rasp. "But they knew I was found in a trap house. They assumed I was an addict or had something to do with the cartels. So, they said I was given a second chance at life. I was born again from the sins of my past like a holy man. So…Priest."
"Your name is Grayson McGregor," she whispers. "You were born on August 11th in Knoxville. Your 28th birthday was two months ago."
"I may have been born in August, but that date tattooed on your wrist is the day my life began," I rasp, my fucking chest burning. "It's the day we met."
She nods, still not looking at me. "How long were you in the hospital?"
"Seventeen days before I regained consciousness. Two months before I was well enough to leave." I pause. "Another three before I had the courage to walk out of there."
She looks at me this time, her eyes wide. "You stayed?"
"Didn't have anywhere to go." I shrug, glancing out at the road as shame whispers through me. "Didn't know a goddamn thing about myself, my life, or what I'd done…who was looking for me."
"You mean…?"
I jerk my chin in a nod, rolling through a stop sign. "They nearly killed me. I didn't know if they planned to finish the job. Back then, I wasn't in any condition to stop them if they tried. So, I stayed."
"What made you decide to leave?"
"You," I whisper, my throat raw.
"Explain." I hate how her voice shakes on that single word, like she's afraid of voicing it, afraid of what fresh hell it might unleash.
"I had brutal nightmares back then. Still do sometimes," I admit, not willing to lie to her now. If she wants the truth, I owe it to her, as ugly as it is. "But in between the nightmares, I'd fall into this peaceful sleep. I saw you. Every damn night, you were in my dreams." I swallow hard. "It's like you were trying to comfort me and lead me back to you even through the goddamn wall standing between me and my memories."
She makes a soft noise beside me, her shoulders shaking. "I dreamed about you too," she whispers. "Every damn night, Grayson. Sometimes, I hated it."
"Not as much as I hate myself for forgetting you." I take the turn onto her road, my hands tight around the steering wheel. "Christ, Mina. You were my goddamn world, and I forgot you." I shake my head, a broken groan tumbling from my lips. "I won't blame you if you never forgive me for that. Honestly, I'm not sure how the fuck I'm supposed to forgive myself."
"Don't," she whispers, reaching across the console. Her hand lands against my arm. I know she can feel how tight it is beneath her palm, but I can't relax. Not when she's so close. Not when there's so much goddamn pain between us. "Please don't go there, Grayson."
I don't answer as I pull into the driveway and kill the engine. For a long moment, we sit in silence. And then I sigh. "I don't know how I'm not supposed to go there, Mina. You spent six fucking years thinking I was dead. You raised our daughter alone." I turn to face her, see the tears slipping down her cheeks, and my fucking heart cracks all over again. I reach for her, cupping her cheek. "You were right here the whole time, drowning. And I thought you were a figment of my imagination." My voice breaks. "I'm so goddamn sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."
"You didn't know," she whispers, grasping my wrist. "How were you supposed to know?"
"I should have." I brush my thumb along her bottom lip. "How do you forget what we had? How do you forget the reason your heart beats?" I shake my head, at a loss. "Jesus, Mina. How do you forget someone like you?"
"You didn't forget, Grayson," she says, unlatching her belt. She shakes my hand off, balancing on her knees as she shimmies across the console, forcing herself onto my lap.
I wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her hair as she burrows into me, clinging like she's trying to hold me together.
"You didn't forget," she says again, her voice fierce. "I was still in there. Even when you lost yourself, you still clung to me. Maybe your mind didn't remember the details, but your heart knew."
"Jesus," I rasp, my arms shaking around her.
"You may have thought I was a figment of your imagination, but you stayed faithful to me, didn't you?"
"Every goddamn day," I growl, tipping her head back until her eyes meet mine. If she believes nothing else I've said, I need her to know this much is true. There was never anyone else. So long as she was in my head and in my heart, there was never going to be anyone else. Didn't matter if I thought she was real or just something I made up, I couldn't fucking think about someone else's hands on me when hers felt so goddamn real.