Nina shrugged, her hand still on my neck, fingertips brushing my hair. “Doctors said it’d be better not to.”
This wasn’t one of her pranks, it was written all over her face. The truth settled, wrapping around my heart, constricting and collapsing it.
“If I’m not yours…, whose am I, Nina?” My voice cracked on the words, as I shook my head. “That woman,” I bit out, “couldn’t care less about me. Vinny hasn’t bothered to visit. I?—”
I forced myself to talk through what I’d lost, through what I never had.
“I’ve only ever felt likeyours.”
Nina’s hand stayed where it was—patient, unbearable in its gentleness for some time. Until she withdrew it and moved away from me.
Before she stepped out of my sight, I called, “Hey, Nina.” I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. “We weren’t together before, but maybe we could be now.”
A shadow crossed her features, the answer clear as day.No.
“That’s a conversation for another day.”
“Nina, I know you think I don’t remember, so I can’t know you, and whatever I feel is me being delusional…. But in my mind, in my bones, you’re mine and I’m yours.” I exhaled. “I’m going to woo you with everything I’ve got.”
Nina stared at me with an enigmatic gaze. “Like you said, Linc. You do you, I’ll do me.”
With that, she left me with memories I didn’t have, taking something from me. I couldn’t do anything about that now. It’d take time. I’d show her, though. I’d show her how good it could be if she gave us a chance—that if I was hers and she was mine, no one would ever hurt her. I’d start with Natasha and that Infinity Weddings pitch.
10
Nina
Lincoln had been avoiding me since Natasha’s visit three days ago. I expected something a bit more intense when Lincoln Carter said, “I’m going woo you with everything I’ve got.” Now, he spent most of the time in his bedroom or staring at his phone as if he were a broody teenager.
I should feel relieved. I shouldn’t have this itch to be “wooed” by Lincoln, but a part of me wanted to revel in the satisfaction of telling him no. It was… petty. Similar to that need I’d felt to mess with him, only tenfold.
His girlfriend. I’d been Lincoln’s “girlfriend” for almost two weeks. Delusional. I scoffed, and Lynnie looked my way, but I kept mixing the batter and pointed at the dozens of cupcakes we still had to finish for three different events.
“Alright, alright…,” Lynnie said, going back to piping in silence.
As I looked back down into the swirl of the red velvet batter, I thought of Lincoln. By the time I walked into the kitchen yesterday, he was already up and making waffles. Different bowls and utensils cluttered the counter, and he had three pans going on the stove. He maneuvered well around the kitchen,even placing a mug of steaming coffee in front of me as I sat down on the barstool that had become mine.
“What’s on the menu today?” I asked, sipping coffee. Cream, no sugar. He’d gotten it right.
He gave me a dimpled smile, but the corners of his eyes stayed smooth. Not a single wrinkle, unlike those I’d seen when glee really took over his features.
“My mom’s specialty.”
Even I knew Lincoln’s mom was a sore subject. “And what is that?”
“Waffles with custard cream and fresh fruit.” He turned to me. “I also made scrambled eggs and sausage links too.” He pointed at one of the pans, and a glob of pastry cream landed on the tiled floor. “Shit,” he murmured, rushing to clean it, then explained, “I haven’t seen you eat meat, or sweets, so I wanted to make sure you had options.”
“Lincoln, you didn’t need to.” His face fell, so I added, “But thank you. Your mom’s recipe sounds delicious.”
Lincoln’s tempered grin returned, performative dimples and all, as he pulled out two plates and started serving. He brought the first one to me, then plated his and sat next to me.
This was the new normal. We had spots that were his, and others that were mine. He took the couch; I lounged in the armchair with the lamp next to it. He’d moved all my things into the guestroom without asking. I hadn’t unpacked exactly, but my laptop charger, notebooks, and medicines had found their designated places in Lincoln’s apartment.
It was disconcerting. He’d made senior year in high school hell for me, then mansplained and downplayed my ideas for the projects we’d shared for the year we worked together at 3D’s. Usually, Lincoln ignoring me was a win in my book. Now he looked at me as if I was something precious he’d lost and life would never be the same.
I didn’t know what to do with that. As much as my skin prickled in satisfaction that I finally hadpowerover him…, I wondered what it must feel like for him. Not only waking up with most of your memories gone but also realizing that the life you thought was yours had been self-fabricated.
“We’ll see. I haven’t made this since I was like fifteen.” His voice shook with a bit of unease.
