Page 119 of The Image of You

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe all this has happened.”

He shook his head. “This isn’t on you. He and your mother kept you away and let me think you didn’t love me. I’m sure of it.”

I stroked along his jaw, feeling his rough scruff under my fingers. “It’s amazing how the mind works, because I did love you. Even when I didn’t know it.” My voice caught. “My soul missed you every day.”

His face softened. “I know that now.”

“I have to face them all, don’t I?” I asked, the dread in my voice evident.

“Yes, but I’m not risking you being near them alone. We’ll face it together. Bradley, Ronald, your mother—whatever shitstorm it causes. They have to answer for their actions—not you.”

“I need you there. I need them to see they failed.”

He brushed his lips over my temple. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. It’s my turn to tell them what to do. They’ll never get close to you again.”

I let him surround me. I hated it had come to this. But there was no decision to be made—Adam would always come first. What they had done had proven how little I meant to them.

* * *

ADAM

Ally hung up the phone and smiled reassuringly at me. “My neurologist is amazed how much I can remember. He’s going to have me see a colleague of his in the next couple of days, just to make sure everything is okay. Now, will you stop worrying?”

I trailed my fingers down her cheek. “Not sure I will ever be able to stop worrying about you.” I tucked the blanket higher around her shoulders and settled back into the chair. I studied her face—she looked tired, but her eyes were clear. “Are you ready to talk? Just pick somewhere to start, and we’ll figure it out.”

She thought about it a moment, then spoke. “I was so upset after we got disconnected—”

“I didn’t hang up on you,” I interjected. I had to make sure she understood that. “I was startled by a couple of the children from the village. They broke through the bushes and ran into me. I dropped the only sat phone we had into the river. It was an accident. We were in the middle of nowhere and had no communications for days. When I sent Tommy for supplies, he called and left you a message, but I don’t think you ever got it.”

She shook her head, putting the pieces together. “I was already in the hospital. My mother had my tablet and phone. I’m sure she deleted everything to do with you. She gave me new ones with new accounts—she said they were a get-well gift. I’d been carrying the other ones in my bag when I was hit, and she said they were damaged beyond repair. I should have known better than to believe her.”

“Don’t blame yourself. The bitch and her fucking sidekick thought of everything.”

I ran my hand down her thick hair, stroking the silky curls. “Emma told me about the accident. I wish I had been there for you.”

“I don’t remember much about it—even now. Only bits and pieces.” She rubbed her head. “When I woke up, I was in the hospital, and things were so confusing. I was in pain, scared. I had no idea why, and not being able to remember such a huge part of my life was so frightening.”

“Emma said you were in pretty bad shape.”

“There was so much I couldn’t remember. Emma looked different than I thought she should. It was the wrong time of year. My head ached all the time, my leg was in a cast, and I had bruises everywhere. My entire body hurt. They told me I’d been hit by a car, but I couldn’t remember that. The last things I could remember clearly were going out with Bradley to dinner and being at work. I couldn’t remember going to Calgary or anything in between.” She shook her head. “Emma was hurt, and when I finally saw her, she seemed withdrawn. And my mother was always around, hovering, and kept her from saying too much, and then Emma stopped coming to see me.”

“She didn’t want Emma saying too much. She was afraid it would trigger your memory.” My anger started to build as I thought of the lengths they had gone to in order to separate us.

“I know that now.”

I kissed her head. “Emma was injured too, and I know you two aren’t as close as you had been, but I think you can rebuild your friendship.”

“I want to.” She looked sad. “When she was here last week, she told me she’d had a miscarriage because of the accident. I wish I had known and could have been there for her. We cried together when she shared.”

“I’m glad you’re reconnecting.” I pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I think with Emma out of the picture, your mother and Bradley were more than happy to fill in the missing details—at least, their version of the details.”

She became quiet, playing with my bands and thinking. When she spoke, her voice was forlorn as she processed thoughts in her head.

“They didn’t tell me very much, and the times I was alone, I tried to remember on my own, to try to fill in more of the empty spaces, but nothing ever came.”

“How often were you alone?”

“A lot,” she admitted. “My mother left often to come here for her obligations, and Bradley flew in and out. Ronald never came, not that I wanted him to.” Her voice was wistful. “I spent a lot of time in the hospital room alone.” She paused. “I cried a lot at times. I didn’t know what I was crying for, but I couldn’t stop. I think–I think maybe I was crying for you.”