PROLOGUE
Dr. Xander Kane
Reality isn’t alwayswhat we perceive it to be. What’s real? What’s fake? Is our truth of yesterday the truth of today?
I’ve been told I’m living in a fantasy, trying to regurgitate the past instead of moving into my future, but all I know as my truth is what my mind is telling me my heart should feel and what it should want.
I don’t remember anyone except Billie. Well, except for the flashbacks. Night after night, I go to sleep, and I experience all of her except her face. She is a stranger.
Guilt crashes through me, as I should only be dreaming of Billie. She is the one I remember, not this faceless stranger. She is the one I love.
Or is she?
My friends tell me I don’t love Billie. That we ended things long ago and weren’t meant to be together. But how do I know that when it’s all I remember?
How are my friends telling me the truth when all I feel is madly in love with Billie?
I search everywhere for her, but I can’t find her. I spend my days searching social media, googling her name, walking streets in New York we used to stroll together. But she’s nowhere.
The guys tell me I broke it off with Billie, and we were both better off because of it. But no one can tell me why I broke it off. No one can give me details. So, until I can find her, my heart belongs to her. It aches for her because all I remember is our love.
All day long, I’m obsessed. When my head hits the pillow, I dream. But it’s never about Billie.
I hear the moan of a woman’s voice against the curve of my neck. “Xander.” A sound so unforgettable, I push it to the back of my mind throughout the day, as guilt shoots through me, and I try to refocus on my love for Billie.
I smell her scent—flowers after it rained.
I feel her gripping my back and trembling against me as our bodies sweat.
I see the perfect fit of her body wrapped against mine, clutching me.
I taste the salt of her skin and the sweetness of her tongue.
Blonde hair, the curve of her neck, the softness of her breasts, the plumpness of her red lips...it all flashes in my mind, torturing me.
She’s so real in my dreams. Every night I go to sleep, I experience her. Everything I could ever know about her, except for her face and her name.
Daily, I tell myself it’s just a dream. It’s my brain playing games with me because it’s still screwed up from the accident.
She isn’t real.
She doesn’t exist.
Or does she?
The thought sends my stomach flipping because that means I wasn’t loyal to Billie. No matter what my friends tell me, I know what I had with Billie. I don’t understand how it could have ended.
No. Surely they are wrong. It’s a misunderstanding, and once I find Billie, whatever misunderstanding we had, we will work out.
Obsession takes hold of me. I can’t move on until I find Billie. But she’s nowhere.
Over the months, my memory slowly returns, except regarding Billie. I have no memories of dating or thinking about anyone except her. Everything else is clear—my medical school, my job, how to be a surgeon. But I have no memories of anyone in my life besides Billie.
But Billie didn’t have blonde hair. She didn’t smell like flowers after the rain or call out my name like the woman in my dreams.
I can’t make sense of it all. If I can just find Billie, I can fix whatever went wrong between us. Then, this other woman will leave my dreams.
Or will she?
