“Give me your left hand, Grace. We’ll start there.”
The soft material is heavy enough to hide the fact I’m not wearing a bra. And it feels like heaven against my skin, with a subtle scent—lavender and cedar and a detergent I don’t remember buying. But something deep inside me relaxes a tiny bit.
After the last button is fastened, Parker takes a step back and gives me the once over. “There. Now you look more like you.”
“I don’t know who that is yet,” I say quietly. “Me.”
“You don’t have to figure it out tonight.” Parker reaches into the duffel bag and pulls out a pair of dark gray Keds and fuzzy pink socks. “The food should be here any minute. Want these too?”
“Hell, yes. Anything but those damn hospital slippers.”
Parker snickers as she helps me with the socks. “You never know. They might be the next big fashion trend. You could regret tossing them.”
“If I do, have me checked for another head injury.”
She lets out a low, sultry laugh. “Grace, if you ever wonder who you are…? Think back to right now.”
“How do you know?”
She’s silent for a long moment as she helps me get my feet into the shoes. “I just do.”
Her subdued tone worries me enough, I reach out and touch her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Parker says, her smile only a little forced. “There. You’re all set.”
I stare down at my arms. The sleeves cover the scars around my wrists. Parker never made me feel helpless or less than. If anything, I feel stronger now than I have since I woke up here.
“AJ will be back any minute,” she says. “I should go wash up before dinner. But…if you need anything tonight, I’m taking first watch. Call me, and I’ll hear you.”
The door clicks softly shut behind her, and I’m alone. But for the first time since I woke up in this place, I think maybe…I might find me again one day.
Chapter Twenty-Three
AJ
“Ready for—?” I stop just inside the door, unprepared for how much different Grace looks out of that drab hospital gown and ill-fitting bathrobe.
Curled in the recliner, dressed in her favorite pair of light blue pajamas, and without the thick, white bandage around her head, I could almost believe she’s only been gone a few days—not close to three years. Except she’s rail thin, dark circles swelling under her eyes, with nothing but uncertainty etched on her face.
“Thank you…for these,” Grace says softly, running her fingers over the flannel. “I feel more like…who I think I’m supposed to be.”
I ease a hip onto the recliner next to her. “Darlin’, you’re not supposed to be anyone but who you are right now. Give yourself some time. You’ll remember.”
Tears shimmer in her eyes. “What if I don’t?”
I cup her unbruised cheek, and my heart squeezes as she leans into the touch. “Then we’ll start our lives over again. One new memory at a time.”
“I’m sorry,” Grace whispers. “For being…”
“No.” I take her hands, linking our fingers and holding on tight. “You don’t need to apologize, Grace. You’re allowed to be scared. Angry. Frustrated. Anything.”
She searches my face for a long moment before one corner of her mouth ticks up in what might be a weak smile. “What about hungry?”
For the first time since I walked into this clinic almost twelve hours ago, I catch a glimpse of my Grace. The funny, smart, sarcastic woman I fell in love with more than twenty years ago is still in there—even if she doesn’t know how to find her way out.
“Hungry is actively encouraged.” I lift her left hand and press a kiss to her palm. “It’s a bit of a walk down to the atrium. How about we get you into the wheelchair?”
She nods carefully. Like if she moves too quickly, the world will turn upside down. I don’t know shit about vertigo, but I’m gonna have to learn.
