His entire body jerks. He makes a sound like he’s dying. His hands twitch against my head as his orgasm rips another sound from his lips. A new sound, one I’ve never heard him make before.
It’s a name.
My name.
“Megan!”
All the lingering doubts about my sanity and the impossible puzzle my brain has pieced together are destroyed by finally hearing Theo speak.
Because now I know why he stopped talking.
His voice isn’t his own.
It belongs to a man with sky-blue eyes and a smile like sunshine, whom I first met when I was six years old.
27
I erupt into sobs so hysterical, Theo freezes in shock. Clinging to him with every ounce of strength in my arms, I bury my face in his neck and pour out my euphoria in wave after uncontrollable wave of tears.
“I knew it!” I wail, my voice muffled against his skin. “I knew you’d come back to me!”
Theo’s frozen muscles relax. He exhales, pressing a kiss to my neck. With an edge like a purr, a low laugh rumbles through his chest.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, his lips near my ear. “I was only gone for a few weeks.” His tone turns gently teasing. “Are you always gonna get this emotional after sex?”
The words are Theo’s, but the voice is one I know well, its timbre a shade more husky, but otherwise unchanged. The echo of that voice has lived in my mind for five long years. I’d recognize it anywhere.
“No—you know what I mean!” I lift my head and stare into his eyes. “Cass, Cass, I love you! I never stopped, not even for a second! I always knew you’d come back!”
Theo stops breathing. He falls still, as still as a corpse. Into his eyes comes a look of pure horror. “What?”
I’m crying so hard, I almost can’t see. Insane with joy, I press frantic kisses all over his neck. “Why did you try to stay away from me? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you come find me in Phoenix?”
He abruptly pushes away from me, withdrawing his body and warmth in a whip-crack move so fast, it’s blinding. He leaps up and stands nude at the foot of the bed, gazing down at me with wide, wild eyes, his hands trembling.
He whispers, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Time stops.
All the clocks in the world stop ticking.
Gravity releases its hold on me and blasts me off into black, frozen space.
I sit up in bed and draw the covers over my naked breasts, and we stare at each other across the silence of the room until I find the courage to speak. “You don’t have to pretend. I won’t…I won’t tell anyone.” My laugh is small, choked with fear. “Who would believe us anyway?”
After a pause in which I hear every beat of my banging heart, Theo says through gritted teeth, “Who would believe us about what?”
My blood crystallizes to ice.
No.
No, this can’t be happening.
Tears are still sliding down my cheeks, but I can no longer feel them. I no longer know how to blink, or move, or even breathe.
“Cass—”
“I’m not your dead fucking husband!” Theo roars in my dead husband’s voice.
The acid bite of bile forces its way up my throat. I swallow it down, shivering uncontrollably. The air has gone so cold, we could be in a crypt. I say hoarsely, “Why are you lying?”
All the light leaves Theo’s eyes. They go dead. It’s like watching storm shades being slammed over windows. “This is why you want me? Because you think I’m him?”
Listening to those words in that voice causes a fissure in my brain. I feel it—a quick, hard snap—like ice cracking underfoot.
I jolt to my feet, right there on the mattress. Clutching the sheet to my chest, I draw a breath so ragged, it sounds like a death rattle. My voice is even worse, as hollow and eerie as if I’m speaking from beyond the grave.
“I don’t think you’re him—you are him. And you’re you. You’re both, and you’re perfect.”
“Stop it,” he says flatly.
“No. Why did you stop talking after your accident, Theo? Why haven’t you spoken a word to anyone in five years?”
He answers without hesitation. “My vocal cords were damaged from smoke inhalation in the accident. My voice changed, and I hated how strange it sounded.”
A hysterical laugh tears from my throat. “Smoke damage? Is that how they explained it to you at Acadia? Because I think we both know it’s something else.”
“Megan, stop—”
“Did you ever see me before I moved here, Theo?”
All the blood drains from his face. He’s as white as the sheet I’m clutching in my fist. He whispers, “I…I had a brain injury, Megan. My hallucinations…they’re not real.”