Weird.
I fiddle with my engagement ring. “I’m supposed to be getting married in August.” I mentally kick myself when I catch my blunder. “I mean, I am getting married in August.”
August eighteenth to be exact.
Exactly two years after my accident.
Stone picked the date. He said we should turn a tragedy into something positive since it brought us together.
The guy looks at me then, studying me intently. I have no idea what he sees, but it has him frowning before he peels his gaze away and focuses on the lake.
“Are you married?” I ask but then realize that’s a stupid question because he can’t be much older than I am and he’s not wearing a wedding ring.
Keeping his eyes trained on the lake, he shakes his head.
“I never planned on getting married so young,” I confess because for some strange reason I’m unable to keep my mouth shut.
“Actually,” I amend. “I’m not really sure what my plans were because I was in a car accident and I have something called retrograde amnesia.”
Beside me, he stiffens.
“I know,” I carry on. “It sounds like a big deal, but—I don’t know. I think it was a blessing because the old me was a really shitty, awful person.”
“What makes you say that?” he utters unexpectedly. “If you can’t remember who you were, how do you know what kind of person you used to be or what might have shaped you to be that way?”
I think about this for a moment and realize he would be right.
If it weren’t for the few glimpses of my former self I’ve had.
“Well, they don’t happen often, but sometimes I get these little memory flashback things. Bits and pieces of who I was…but not enough to form a whole picture.”
Just enough to tell me I was a horrible human being.
“It’s kind of like a puzzle,” I whisper. “A broken puzzle with tons of missing pieces.”
Which means there’s no way I’ll ever be whole again.
It’s something that should bother me, but I’ve learned to come to terms with it.
I have a great life with some wonderful people in my corner.
Two brothers who love me, a father who’s trying to be a better parent, Dylan and Sawyer who feel more like sisters than friends…
And a fiancé who loves me more than the air he breathes.
But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small part of me that feels like something major is missing.
A vital piece of my heart that’s gone for good.
And if I’m really being honest with myself…I’m scared shitless I’ll never find it again.
I flush with embarrassment when a tear rolls down my cheek.
I don’t even know why I’m being so dramatic and crying right now. Hell, if anything I should be saying all this to my psychiatrist Dr. Wilson instead of some random guy.
But I won’t.
Being a psych major myself, I know the inner workings of things. And whenever I’m truly honest, you can bet he’s writing something important down on his paper. Like assessments and diagnosis.
Either way, his judgments will have an impact on my life.
Because it will label me.
Talking to a stranger candidly like this feels safe…because even if he’s judging me, I doubt I’ll ever see him again, so what I tell him doesn’t matter.
“I don’t know why I’m so sad,” I choke out as another tear makes its way down my cheek. “All I know is something feels wrong.”
Like my universe is out of balance.
His blue eyes fill with worry as he turns to face me. “Bianca—”
My chest caves in.
Not only does the stranger know my name, he says it like it has a deeper meaning to him…
As if he knows me.
However, I can’t focus on that, because someone is shouting a slew of obscenities behind us.
Less than a second later, my brother Jace comes into view, looking like he’s ready to tear someone’s head off.
I’m not sure why, but his angry glare is directed at the guy sitting on the bench with me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
For a second I think he’s talking to me because why in the world would Jace be so livid with some random guy.
Gaping at him, I get off the bench. “Eating lunch—”
“You have two seconds to get the fuck away from her or I’ll beat your face in right here, right fucking now.”
Good Lord. Why the hell is Jace acting like such a psychopath?
The guy on the bench should be scared—my brothers are terrifying—but he merely stands up and says, “I’m leaving. And just so we’re clear, I didn’t intentionally go out of my way to find her. It just happened.”
He’s not wrong. That’s exactly what occurred.
However, I don’t see what the big deal is about us having a freaking conversation.
“What’s going on?”
“Right,” Jace scoffs, ignoring me. “You seriously expect me to believe that?” He gets close to his face. “I know you, motherfucker.”
That’s news to me. “Well, would someone mind filling me in because—”
“Then you know I didn’t say shit,” my new friend bites out. “We were just—”
“Stop it, Jace,” Dylan screams before she starts running down the hill.
“No,” Jace roars. “The asshole just couldn’t stay away from her.”
I’m getting really tired of him talking about me like I don’t exist.
But even more tired of not knowing why he’s so riled up.
I don’t miss the way Dylan’s eyes do a quick sweep of the guy when she reaches us. “What are you doing here, Oakley? And why are you dressed like that?”
Oakley?
I briefly recall Cole telling me he used to have a friend named Oakley, but that was all he ever said.
“My dad got me a job as a janitor,” the guy—whose name is apparently Oakley—answers.
“Oh. That’s go—” Her face pales when she catches her boyfriend’s furious expression. “Shit.”
I blink in confusion. How the heck do they know each other?
“You guys know—”
“What the fuck is this?” someone who sounds a lot like Cole shouts.
Holy shit. For an area that’s usually serene, it seems awfully overpopulated with my irate family members.
“I caught him talking to Bianca,” Jace explains.
Cole’s eyes narrow into tiny slits. “You motherfucker—”
“Everyone, stop,” I shout because I honestly can’t take it anymore. “What is going on? Why is everyone so mad?” I peer up at the guy who looks like he wants nothing more than to escape this shit show, and quite frankly, I can’t blame him. “How do you know my name?”
Oakley opens his mouth to speak, but Jace beats him to it.
“Say one word, asshole, and I’ll lay you the fuck out.” His eyes narrow into tiny slits as he shoves him. “She’s happy now. And the last thing she needs is you coming back to fuck up her life again, so you better stay the hell away.”
Fuck up my life again? What does that mean?