But I did know one thing.
“I think it’s time Dr.Schaffer answered a few questions.”
A slow, dangerous smile curved on Blake’s lips.“Consider it done.”
ChapterTen
Ariana
The setting sun washed the garden in hues of pink and blue, the dwindling light catching on my mother’s white hair as she leaned over a bed of marigolds.For a few precious hours, it was as if the last decade had never happened.
She hummed softly while she worked, her hands steady as she pressed soil around the roots.She hadn’t been steady for years.Every time she glanced up at me, her eyes were clear.Focused in a way I hadn’t seen since I was twenty.There were still flashes of confusion, momentary falters as she tried to remember something.But instead of spiraling into panic like before, she listened when I explained.The fog that had swallowed her for so long seemed to lift.
For the first time in years, she felt like my mother again.
I didn’t want to question it.Not yet.Instead, I allowed myself to enjoy this without worrying when it would end.
The crunch of boots on gravel drew my attention away from my mother, and I looked up as Henry’s shadow stretched across the garden, long and sharp in the fading light.When he came into view, my heart seemed to speed up of its own accord.
His dark hair was damp from a recent shower, curling at the ends, and he wore a pair of jeans and a faded Pink Floyd t-shirt that clung to his chest and biceps.It was such a simple look, but it made him seem real in a way he never had before.
It made me wonder if maybe I was finally seeing therealHenry Fontaine.
“Everything okay out here?”His question was low, almost tentative.
“Perfect.Thank you, Henry.”My mother smiled at him with an affection and familiarity that surprised me.
She had never looked at Victor this way.
Then again, she’d voiced her concerns about Victor from the beginning.
I replied by insisting she just didn’t want me to be happy.
How wrong I’d been.
“But I think I’ve done enough planting for one day,” she continued, rising to her full five-five height and tossing her gardening gloves to the side, brushing off the dirt still clinging to her jeans.
“I’ll help you get cleaned up,” I offered, standing too quickly.
Pain flared through my knee, and I wavered on my feet.Henry was there in an instant, wrapping an arm around my waist, holding me steady.
The contact sent a pulse of heat straight through me, warm and uninvited.
I hated that my body still reacted to him like this.
“I can manage myself,” my mother said, a gentle finality in her tone that left me blinking.For so long, she’d needed help with everything, from brushing her hair to remembering her own name.
Henry inclined his head toward her.“Are you hungry?You’re welcome to join me for dinner.”
“Was your housekeeper able to get the items on my list?”
“She was,” he said.“They’re all in your kitchen.”
“Then I’d like to cook myself.It’s been far too long since I’ve done anything like that.”
“Of course.”He gave her a cordial smile.“If you change your mind, the invitation stands.”
“I’ll come help you,” I offered, limping toward her, but she stopped me.
