I am still angry. Betrayed. But I have an entire lifetime to wade through the bitterness. Now, I just want to feel.

  Our tongues roll together in unison, as do our bodies, for a dance specially created for us. We fit together like two jigsaw pieces. Our flesh is slick from the rain, providing the perfect lubrication as I writhe and moan against him.

  I cup his face, frightened he’ll disappear because his admission demonstrates that our lives have weathered many hardships. Tears instantly surface. He senses my sorrow and slows the kiss down, gently and deeply making love to my mouth but, most shockingly, also to my heart.

  This kiss comes in many shades, but my undoing is when love replaces his passion. He caresses and kisses me like I’m his world. Not just his moon. His stars. The sun. I am his everything. Without me, he will perish, and life is no more.

  Tears break the floodgates, and I don’t know when they’ll stop. Cayden’s sadness is palpable as he kisses me one final time. He kisses my cheeks, washing away my anguish, before lifting himself up. I miss his warmth.

  Needing a minute, I lie still, peering into the heavens as the rain falls on me. “Why wouldn’t you tell me this, Cayden?”

  His breathing is heavy. This is about to break us both. “Because you asked me not to.” I close my eyes, sealing away my tears. “You told me whatever the circumstances, I was to never speak to you again. That I was to forget you because you…had forgotten me.” The hitch to his tone reveals he hasn’t escaped unscathed from my demands.

  “I’ve brought you nothing but pain. So when you told me if I ever loved you I was to leave you alone, I listened. You made me promise. And I did. It was the one and only time I didn’t let you down.”

  Breathing in and out, I measure my breaths as I’m afraid I’m moments away from passing out. “What did we do?” I say, almost afraid to ask. I can’t face him. Not yet.

  Goose bumps prick my flesh as Cayden skims two fingertips down my forearm, circling over my racing pulse. This is what I’ve craved from the moment we met. For him to touch me openly like I’m his. But now, I know what this is. This is goodbye.

  “You will always be my biggest regret.”

  “She’ll always be…the biggest regret of my life.” Cayden’s admission to Hazel now takes on a whole different meaning because it appears I am the cause of something so heinous, he will forever regret it and me for as long as he lives.

  I am a monster.

  “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. But I’m s-sorry, Cayden. I’m sorry for whatever pa-pain I caused.” My stomach turns, and the darkness is moments away from dragging me under.

  Unlike anything in the past, this is a tsunami, the mother of all storms, and I know there is no coming back from this. I fight the blackness, but suddenly, it feels good to surrender, so I do. The white noise conquers the torture, and I allow it to overthrow me.

  But when I do…all I can smell is the ocean. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m the one who couldn’t save you, Snow.”

  Three Weeks Later

  “Doll, I ordered my eggs scrambled, not poached.”

  “I’m sorry?” My grip on reality flashes like a TV station’s picture flickering in and out with the static. Blinking once, I return to the now.

  The customer, a middle-aged man with kind blue eyes, points at his plate, where indeed sits two poached eggs, three strips of bacon, and a mountain of hash browns. It’s apparent he feels guilty for pointing out my error, but I’ve grown accustomed to my oversight because it’s happened countless times this week.

  “I’m so sorry, Will. Here, let me fix that for you.” I lunge for the plate, my cheeks blistering, but he gently wraps his fingers around my wrist.

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll eat them.” I smile, thankful he doesn’t cause a scene.

  “Here. Let me top off your coffee.” Will, who I met on my first day of work, removes his hand and offers me his white porcelain cup. I pour in the dark liquid, sighing when my shaky hand overfills the cup, making a mess on his saucer.

  “Not having a good day?” he asks, reaching for a wad of napkins to soak up my mess.

  “You could say that,” I reply, reaching into my apron pocket and placing a handful of creamers onto the tabletop. “Breakfast is on me.”

  On autopilot, I walk through my place of employment, the very cool 50s-themed diner, Nat’s Place. This place serves good, wholesome food at reasonable prices. It’s also open twenty-four hours. So it goes without saying that it’s a hit with locals and tourists alike.

  I pass through the retro layout, topping off coffees while remembering to smile. But that’s a big ask, considering these past few weeks have been utter hell. I promised myself I wouldn’t think of the night that kick-started my demise, but I’ve accepted the fact that I’m a complete masochist because before my life turned to shit, I was happy. For a single moment, I felt alive.

  A simple kiss changed my world forever, but there was nothing simple about that kiss, nor the confession that followed. I swallow past the lump in my throat that forms when merely thinking his name. Cayden and I were in love. My heart warms. But a bitter cold soon replaces that warmth.

  “I broke your heart…and for the next ten years…you broke mine.”

  His admission still chills me to the bone. What did I do? What did we do?

  The blackouts have been far more frequent, and the feeling of being watched is so overwhelming that I’ve begun taking the meds prescribed to me by my doctor. I vowed to never take them, but the line between fiction and reality is beginning to blur.

  When I came to after passing out, I woke up alone in my bedroom. No doubt Cayden carried me home, but he didn’t stick around. I gave him the space he clearly needed because I needed it too, but when dawn broke, I knew that space was endless.

  Cayden lay low, as did I. I had to clear my head. His confession changed everything. It changed how I viewed myself. And him. After everything I’ve uncovered, one thing is clear—I wasn’t a good person. How could I be? I made the man I loved promise to forget me because I had forgotten him. But evidently, I hadn’t.

  After two torturous days, I finally gathered the courage to knock on his front door. He never answered. I thought he needed more time, but as two days turned into three, four, five, it was apparent time wasn’t what he needed. He needed me to leave him alone. Whatever love we shared was no more.

  I still had Cayden’s truck, so I left it in his driveway since he’d made it clear he didn’t want to see me. The next day, it was parked in my front yard. He still cared, which just made things worse. I wanted to storm over to this house and demand he speaks to me, but I didn’t. A small part of me was scared of what I would say. What I would ask. Everything is just so messed up.

  I’ve replayed every conversation we’ve had, and each time, I’m left more confused, angry, and wounded than the time before. I am furious that Cayden shut me out after everything he disclosed, but that rage soon disappears when I wonder what I did to him for him to look at me with such sorrow and regret in his eyes.

  It appears he has stayed true to his word because, since that night, he’s been MIA. Lacey too. I can’t help but feel betrayed because she knew the truth this entire time. I made Cayden promise, but what about her?

  Once again, I’m drowning in questions with no end in sight.

  Cayden sent workmen over to the house to finish the job, which just made this entire situation all the more unbearable. His mixed signals confused me further. I wanted him, not them, and demanded they leave and never come back. Of course, they didn’t listen.

  Even in my times of absolute solitude, I’ve never felt more alone than I did in that house. Every noise was amplified in the silence. But even more so, he was amplified everywhere I looked. Late at night, while staring up at the single star, I came to realize why this house slowly became a home. It was because of Cayden. He gave me a taste of what I wanted…of what I had. But then ripped it out from under me—again.

  Determined not to surrender, I educated myself as best as I could by making YouTube my best friend. I watched video after video on DIY home renovations. I also utilized the firsthand knowledge I learned from Cayden. However, after the stunt Stella pulled, there was no way I was going to depend on her for a cent. I may have my own bank account, but for some reason, using that money feels so wrong.

  As I walked home from the hardware store one day, supplies in hand, I noticed a HELP WANTED sign in the diner window. As much as I loved working for Cayden, there was no way I could go back. So I applied and immediately got the job.

  It’s waiting tables, which I don’t mind doing, and my boss, Nate, is terrific. This diner has been in his family for generations, and he’s kept it the way his great-grandfather Nathanael designed it. Nate doesn’t ask questions or say anything when I break yet another plate or cup when it falls from my forever shaky fingers. He rarely speaks, which suits me just fine.

  I am happy to descend into anonymity.

  Julia, a bubbly server from Texas, offers me a stick of gum as I round the counter and head for a coffee refill. I know she’s just trying to be friendly, but I can’t do friendly. The last friend I made vanished without a trace.

  However, not wanting to be rude, I accept the peppermint strip and place it into the pocket of my mint green uniform. The dress is the traditional retro diner outfit with a white collar and white cuffed short sleeves. Thankfully, Nate drew the line at the white headband.

  “Want to take a break?” Julia asks, standing beside me.

  “No, I’m okay. I already took mine.”

  “That was yesterday,” she kindly says. The glass coffeepot rattles in my hand.

  She’s probably right. Every day shapes into one giant repetitive loop, and the fact that I don’t need more than three hours of sleep to survive has me working double shifts. I need the money and the distraction. It’s a win-win.

  Will appears, ready to pay his bill, but I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” Reaching into my apron pocket, I attempt to sort through the wads of ones, prepared to pay for his breakfast out of my tips. But he reaches across the counter, gently wrapping his fingers around my wrist to stop me.

  “No, you won’t. Ring up the bill. I won’t have you paying for my breakfast.” The firmness of his tone affirms this isn’t up for discussion. So I don’t bother arguing.

  He pulls his hand back while I nervously calculate the total. “That’ll be ten fifty-four.”

  Will hunts for his wallet from his back pocket and gives me a twenty. “Keep the change, doll.”

  I hesitate to accept because it’s too much, but Will seems like the type of man who doesn’t take no for an answer. “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

  “I will. See you tomorrow?” he asks, pocketing his wallet before reaching for a toothpick from a container on the counter.

  “Sure.” I nod, not really knowing why he’s suddenly making me nervous. He winks before turning and leaving me with a mouthful of questions.

  When Will is out the door, Julia, who witnessed the weird scene, saunters over to where I stand, confused. “He’s been in here a lot.”

  Pocketing the change, I shrug, hoping to come across as aloof. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  But she doesn’t buy it. “Oh, come on. Someone who looks like that. It’s hard not to notice.” I blanch because, yes, Will isn’t unattractive by any means, but he’d probably be more suited for someone my mother’s age. I can’t help but chuckle at the visual.

  My mother wouldn’t be caught dead liaising with the likes of Will. They couldn’t be more opposites. With his scruffy graying hair, Harley Davidson T-shirts, and faded tattoos, he’d give her a heart attack just by saying hello to her.

  “He’s sweet on you,” Julia says, which has me almost pulling a muscle in my neck as I snap my head to look at her, paling. “Don’t look so surprised. With all that fiery red hair and looks to die for, a lot of men are sweet on you.”

  This is news to me.

  “Thank you, but I’m not interested. I’m here to do my job and then go home. I’m not looking for love or romance.” That was supposed to be a hint for Julia to back off and leave it be, but I’ve come to learn she rarely takes a hint.

  “Tell that to the hottie who just walked through the door.”

  Humoring her, I raise my eyes to see a sight I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again. My memory has not done him justice because I don’t remember him looking this good. But regardless of his good looks, I want to slap his cheek.

  Cayden stands in the middle of the diner, openly looking at me. So many emotions smash into me, and I clutch onto the edge of the counter, afraid I’m moments away from losing my last shred of sanity.

  I want to say so many things, but I’m afraid of what I will say. Seeing him evokes a raging anger because he lied to me, and then he just disappeared. I want answers. He owes them to me.

  A betrayal tear breaks past the floodgates and trickles down my cheek. Cayden closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, wrestling with his demons as his hands curl into fists by his sides. I want nothing more than to speak to him, but I gave up that right when I broke his heart—not once, not twice, but for ten long years.

  Although I told Cayden to stay away, it appears even amnesia wasn’t strong enough to keep me away from him. I may have forgotten him, but it’s clear my heart hasn’t. Secrets and sorrows fill our past, and a small part of me believes I don’t want to remember what we did.

  But Cayden doesn’t have the luxury. Whatever we did, whatever I did, he remembers, and every time he looks at me, he’s reminded of those sins. He’s reminded that despite the fact that he loved me, sometimes, love just isn’t enough.

  We commit one another to memory, unsure when we will see the other again because one thing is clear—it hurts. Unburdening himself hasn’t set him free—it’s only made things worse. Maybe it would have been better if he’d never told me.

  “Julia, can you cover for me? I’m suddenly not feeling well.” I barely recognize my own voice. Cayden and I are still caught in a stalemate, but I’m the one to end things once and for all.

  “Of course. Take the rest of the day off.” I don’t bother arguing and quickly untie my apron. Reaching for my bag under the counter, I risk one last glance at Cayden because I don’t know when I’ll see him again. But he’s already gone.

  He’s taken a piece of my heart with him as he escaped out the front door, so I decide to exit from the back. It’s a beautiful summer’s day, and on any other morning, I’d appreciate the sunshine but not today. I decide to walk home as I could use some fresh air.

  I need to talk to Cayden, but today proved that neither of us is ready to take that first step. Some may call me weak for not facing my demons, but the truth is, I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to hear the atrocities of my past. The small insights are enough.

  Head down and lost in my own little world, I’m not looking where I’m going, that is, until I bump straight into someone. “I am so…” But my sentence remains unfinished because when I see who stands before me, I doubt I’ll ever be able to speak again.

  “You,” gasps Hazel, blinking twice as if to ascertain that I’m really here. “You have some nerve showing your face here. How dare you come back.”

  There was a time when I was utterly desperate to uncover the secrets of my past, but now that I’ve been given a glimpse, I want nothing more than to forget. “I’m so-sorry.” I stumble over my words, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. The movement seems to alert Hazel of my attire, which she clearly overlooked.

  She scans me from head to toe before her scowl is replaced with a smugness that has me wishing I’d just stayed at work. “Oh my God, I never thought I’d see the day Little Miss Perfect worked a job that was beneath her.”

  “Waiting tables isn’t beneath me,” I counter, not appreciating her tone.

  Hazel folds her arms over her slender frame and arches a brow. She knows something is amiss. Sick of hiding behind my fears, I pull back my shoulders, refusing to allow the past to affect my future. “I know your name is Hazel.” Wrath soon replaces her arrogance. She appears livid that I had the gall to speak her name. “I only know this because…Cayden told me.”

  “Don’t you dare speak his name to me,” she spits, her temper spiking. But I persevere.

  “I don’t remember you. I’m sorry. Six months ago, I was involved in a car accident. When I woke, I didn’t remember anything, anyone.” Hazel looks at me like I’m speaking Russian. So I clarify, “I have amnesia.”

  My admission throws Hazel for a loop. That much is clear. But that’s all that’s clear because I have no clue what she’s thinking. She appears stunned, but there is an air of disbelief to her, which she confirms a second later. “Always have to be the center of attention, don’t you? I’ve heard some bullshit stories in my life, but this one tops the cake.” A sarcastic snicker follows.

  “This isn’t a story,” I state, bitterness lacing my words. “It’s the truth. What reason would there be for me to make this up?”

  Hazel hisses a breath through her clenched teeth. “There are many reasons,” she cries. “First and foremost is the fact that you ruined my life. Not only did you string Cayden along, you…” But she quickly seals her lips, appearing almost pained to continue.

  “I what?” Whatever she has to say, I want to know.

  She cocks her head to the side, really looking at me for the first time. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”

  I nod once. “Yes, I am.”

  “I’ll be damned,” she whispers, eyes wide. “This is my dream come true. That you’d forget this place ever existed. But here you are. Amnesia or not, you can’t seem to leave him alone.” No guessing who she’s referring to.

  “I’m sorry, Hazel, for whatever I did.” I suppose I could ask her what exactly that is, but I don’t know if I’d believe her or not. But thinking of Ellie, I realize she can’t be that bad. Ellie is a great kid, and I want to believe that she had a part to play. “I was the one who pushed Ellie to safety. I didn’t know she was your daughter…”