Billionaire's Contract Engagement(57)

This was bound to happen. He just hadn't expected it to be this soon. "Sounds like you've been busy."

"Yeah. I was sitting there reading those books, thinking how stupid it  was that I could remember something so immaterial, and I couldn't even  remember my own mother. Then it hit me. The picture."

"What picture?"

"The one of me and my mom, when I was thirteen."

He recalled seeing it in her room before, but not since they had been  back. He didn't recall seeing it in her place in Texas either. "I  remember you having one, but I don't know where it is."

"That's okay. I remembered. It just popped into my head. I knew it was in the front pouch of my suitcase. And it was."

Ash could swear his heart stopped, then picked up triple time. She remembered packing? "Your suitcase?"

"I figured I must have taken it with me on my trip."

"Right  …  you must have." Hadn't he checked her suitcases? So there would  be nothing to jolt her memory? It was possible that he only patted the  front pouches, assuming they were empty.

Oh, well, it was just a photo.

"I found something else, too," she said, and there was something about  her expression, the way she was looking at him, that made his heart  slither down to his stomach. She pulled a folded-up piece of paper from  her back pocket and handed it to him.

He unfolded it and realized immediately what it was. A lease, for her rental in Abilene.

Oh, hell. He should have checked the damned outer pockets.

"I wasn't on a research trip, was I?"

He shook his head.

"I moved out, didn't I? I left you."

He nodded.

"I've been sitting here, trying to remember what happened, why I left, but it's just not there."

Which meant she didn't remember the affair, or the child. The  limb-weakening relief made him feel like a total slime. But as long as  she didn't remember, he could just pretend it never happened. Or who  knew, maybe she did remember, and she was content to keep it her little  secret. As long as they didn't acknowledge it, it didn't exist.

"You didn't leave a note," he said. "I just came home from work one day and you were gone. I guess you weren't happy."

She frowned. "I just took off and you didn't come after me?"

"Not at first," he admitted, because at this point lying to her would  only make things worse. "I was too angry. And too proud, I guess. I  convinced myself that after a week or two you would change your mind and  come back. I thought you would be miserable without me. But you didn't  come back, and I was the one who was miserable. So I hired the P.I."

"And you found out that I was in the hospital?"

He nodded. "I flew to Texas the next morning. I was going to talk you into coming back with me."

"But I had amnesia. So you told me I had been on a trip."         

     



 

He nodded. "I was afraid that if I told you the truth, you wouldn't come  home. I went to your rental and packed your things and had them shipped  back here. And I." Jeez, this was tough. They were supposed to be  having this conversation when he was dumping her, and reveling in his  triumph. He wasn't supposed to fall for her.

"You what?" she asked.

"I." Christ, just say it, Ash. "I went through your computer. I erased a  lot of stuff. Things I thought would jog your memory. E-mails, school  stuff, music."

She nodded slowly, as though she was still processing it, trying to  decide if she should be angry with him. "But you did it because you were  afraid of losing me."

"Yes." More or less, anyway. Just not for the reason she thought. And if  he was going to come this far, he might as well own up to all of it.  "There's one more thing."

She took a deep breath, as if bracing herself. "Okay."

"It's standard procedure that hospitals will only give out medical information to next of kin. Parents, spouses. fiancés."

It took a minute for her to figure it out, and he could tell the instant  it clicked. He could see it in her eyes, in the slow shake of her head.  "We're not engaged."

"It was the only way I could get any information. The only way the doctor would talk to me."

She had this look on her face, as if she might be sick. He imagined he was wearing a similar expression.

She slid her ring off and set it on the counter. At least she didn't  throw it at him. "I guess you'll be wanting this back. Although, I don't  imagine it's real."

"No, it's real. It's." God, this was painful. "It's my ex-wife's."

She took a deep breath, holding in what had to be seething anger. He  wished she would just haul off and slug him. They would both feel  better. Not that he deserved any absolution of guilt.

"But you did it because you were afraid of losing me," she said, giving him an out.

"Absolutely." And despite feeling like the world's biggest ass, telling  her the truth lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders. He felt as  though he could take a full breath for the first time since the day he  had walked into her hospital room.

"You can't even imagine how guilty I've felt," he told her.

"Is this why you've been avoiding me?"

Her words stunned him. "What do you mean?"

"All the late nights at work."

"I always work late. I always have."

"Do you always tell me you're at work when you really aren't?"

What was she talking about? "I've never done that. If I said I was at work, that's where I was."

"I called your office yesterday afternoon, to ask you about dinner, but  you didn't answer. I left a message, too, but you never called back."

He could lie about it, say he was making copies or in a meeting or  something, but the last thing he needed was one more thing to come back  at him. "I was there. Brock and Flynn decided to throw an impromptu  party. To celebrate our engagement."

Her eyes widened a little. "Well, that must have been awkward."

"You have no idea."

"I guess that's my fault, for spilling the beans."

"Mel, none of this is even close to your fault. I find the fact that you haven't thrown something at me a miracle."

"In a way, I feel like I should be thanking you."

"For what?"

"If you hadn't done this, I would never have known how happy I could be with you."

Not in a million years would he expect her to thank him for lying to her.

"But," she continued, and he felt himself cringe. When there was a but,  it was never good. "If things stay the way they are, you're going to  lose me again."

This was no empty threat. He could see that she was dead serious.

"What things?"

"You're always at work. You're gone before I get up and you come home  after I'm asleep. That might be easier to stomach if you at least took  the weekends off. I sort of feel like, what's the point of being  together, if we're never together?"

The old Melody would have never complained about the dynamics of their  relationship, or how many hours he worked. Even if it did bother her.  And maybe that was part of the problem.

He couldn't deny that right before she left, he had been pulling away  from her. He was almost always at work, either at Maddox, or in his home  office. And it seemed that the further he retreated, the harder she  tried to please him, until she was all but smothering him. Then, boom,  she was gone.         

     



 

Had it never occurred to him that he had all but driven her into another man's arms?

He knew that the sugar daddy/mistress arrangement wasn't an option any  longer. She wanted the real thing. She deserved it. But what did he  want? Was he ready for that kind of commitment?

He thought about Melody and how she used to be, and how she was now.  There was no longer a good Melody and an evil one. She was the entire  package. She was perfect just the way she was, and he realized that if  he ever were to settle down again, he could easily imagine himself with  her. But relationships took compromise and sacrifice, and he was used to  pretty much always getting his way, never having to work at it.

And honestly, he'd been bored out of his skull.

He wanted a woman who could think for herself, and be herself, even if  that meant disappointing him sometimes, or disagreeing with him.

He wanted Melody.

"Mel, after everything I went through to get you back, do you honestly think I would just let you go again?"

Her bottom lip started to tremble and her eyes welled, though she was  trying like hell to hold it back. But he didn't want her holding  anything back.

He walked around the island to her but she was already up and meeting  him halfway. She threw herself around him and he wrapped her up in his  arms.

This was a good thing they had. A really good thing. And this time he was determined not to screw it up.

After seeing the pictures of her wrecked car, Melody's memories began to  come back with increasing frequency. Random snippets here and there.  Things like the red tennis shoes she had gotten on her birthday when she  was five, and rides her mother let her take on the pony outside the  grocery store.