In This Life (19 page)

“What’s going on here?”

David moved in between us and I fanned myself with the tissue. Sweat poured down my back, and my cheeks and chest flushed with perspiration.

“Lottie’s feeling sick again,” Paul said. “She’s having another episode.”

“It’s too hot outside,” I told David. “And the heat’s getting the better of me.”

“We’re in the middle of a cold front, Lottie. It’s only sixty-five degrees today.” David pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. “You’re not feverish, but you’re sweating like crazy.”

“She’s acting confused,” Paul added. “She doesn’t seem to be operating in reality and is seeing things — ”

“I know what I saw!” I argued.

“I think we should consider admitting her for observation,” Paul said to David. “I thought maybe a week’s rest from work might be good for her, but it’s clear that there’s something deeper at work here, and it needs immediate attention.”

“No.” I stepped away from them both. “I don’t need a psych ward and I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine.”

David’s gaze seized mine, sparking other images to life, all desperate and furious and brutal. I doubled over and clenched my stomach, fighting pain that tore through it. Darkness folded in, pulling me up and under until I knew death stood at my side. Something pressed down on my chest and with every ragged breath I drew in, the pressure deepened until I couldn’t breathe anymore. Voices whispered in disapproval. Spectators closed in. Someone held me close and cried.

I saw the sword again, and pain lanced through my stomach.

I raced to a nearby bush and threw up.

David pulled my hair from my face and pressed a gentle hand to my back, waiting for me to finish. When I was done, he said, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

I yanked from his hold and held out my hands, cuing him to keep his distance. “No. No hospital.”

“Lottie, you’re sick.”

I shook my head and started walking backward. “I’m not. You just don’t understand what’s happening because you can’t see what I see.”

David didn’t argue and I didn’t question why. Instead, I turned and kept going, unsteady at first but finding renewed strength with each step I took. By the time I reached the SUV, my body felt fresh and rejuvenated and as if nothing had happened. I drew in a long, satisfied breath while savoring a refreshing, cool breeze. The oppressive heat was finally gone.

A few moments later, David stepped into view. “You should know that I’m this close to throwing you over my shoulder and dragging you to the hospital anyway.”

“The hospital can’t help me,” I said, turning to him. “There’s only one person who can.”

David’s jaw clenched because he knew exactly whom I meant.

“You can either drive me to Galen’s,” I said, “or I’ll find a way on my own.”

It was a demand that bordered on threat but I had no choice. I held my breath, waiting on his answer.

“Do you even realize what you’re asking of me?” David asked, and the confusion and disbelief on his face ripped my heart in two. I’d never asked so much from the man I loved, knowing it could possibly destroy what we’d worked so hard to build between us.

“I need this, David.”

His green eyes morphed into a murky, saddened gray. “More than you need me?”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“Isn’t it?”

I shook my head. “No. Of course it isn’t. Right now, I’m only asking for your trust and to believe in me. And in us.”

David’s anguished eyes searched mine, desperate for answers hidden deep inside me. Answers I knew I didn’t have.

“Please understand me, David.
Please
.”

I so wanted him to believe me, to finally realize that our love and our support would be enough to see this through. That we only needed time and patience, if he was willing to give it.

He paused, and for a few moments, I thought that realization had finally come.

“I can’t do this,” he said. “I can’t be a part of this anymore.”

He handed me his keys, turned, and walked away.

I stood on the doorstep of Galen’s brand new condo with a case of cold feet.

After David left, I took his SUV to Amrose to find Galen’s address in my files, and it wasn’t until I set foot on his property that I realized I didn’t even know if he was home. I’d reacted defensively and without a plan and, if I was honest, knew that I made a terrible mistake with David as well.

Before I could turn and run or second-guess myself any further, Galen opened the door.

“I had a feeling you would come,” he said. His eyes scanned the perimeter behind me. Out of suspicion, I realized.

“David’s not here,” I said. “I’m alone.”

Making the admission made me feel vulnerable and exposed, and I said a silent prayer that I didn’t make an error in judgment. Despite my memories, I’d known Galen all of several days and yet here I stood, placing myself at his mercy.

“I do not think meeting alone is a good idea,” Galen said. “Bellotti made his intentions very clear about us earlier today.”

I flushed with guilt and embarrassment at the reminder. “David knows I’m here, and I’m very sorry about what happened. I didn’t fully realize what I was doing. It’s just that,” I paused, trying to grasp the riot of emotion and thought inside me. “It’s just that you seem to be a very big part of me that I’m only starting to figure out now.”

He pursed his lips in thought, and I remembered those lips curving over a cup of wine filled with blue lotus petals. He had brought the cup to his mouth and his eyes met mine as he sipped, and in his gaze, I saw an unspoken promise of what was to come.

It was the same look in Galen’s eyes now.

I drew in a breath and released it with the last bit of courage and dignity I had left. “I’m scared, Galen. I’m no longer sure who I am, and I’m scared of what will happen to me if I don’t learn from you. I have no one else to go to.”

He considered me a few seconds more. “We are dangerous together. You realize that, don’t you?”

The suggestiveness in his voice wrapped itself around me like the finest linen, and I drew in another focused breath to fight it. “I know that. I also realize that we both risk something of great importance if we are not careful.”

Galen nodded. “We were not capable of restraint back then, and I’m not convinced we are capable even now.”

“I have no other choice. These memories are taking over and in a way that isn’t healthy, and I’m running out of options.”

At first, Galen didn’t seem convinced, then he stepped aside and motioned for me to come inside. Pretending courage I didn’t feel, I followed him through a small foyer and into an open floor plan that included a den, dining room, and kitchen, and what I supposed were two bedrooms off to the side. I was surprised by the considerable size of the layout and even more so by the décor. Professionally designed in jewel tones and heavy, masculine woods, the rooms carried an air of elegance that suggested tasteful money. It wasn’t until I gave the space closer inspection that I saw Galen’s personal touches and understood why they were there. Framed Egyptian artwork. Replicas of faience pottery. Mirrors beveled with coral and lapis and ebony.

A vase filled with fresh blue lotus flowers.

I held back a gasp. “I received a bouquet like that just the other day.”

“They are a favorite of mine,” he said, glancing my way. “Though you probably already know why.”

I nodded, and understanding came in a rush. “You sent those flowers to me,” I said.

Galen nodded.

“Why?”

An odd look passed over his face, a mix of hopefulness and regret. “Once I saw you at the bar and realized who you were, I was intrigued and wanted to meet you. Then you collapsed so I followed the ambulance to the hospital to find out what happened.” His expression dimmed. “Had I known at the time that you were married to Bellotti, I wouldn’t have sent them. It was a mistake.”

“We’re not married,” I confessed. “And considering how much you already know about me, I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

A sentimental look passed over his face. “I know who you were, but not who you are now.”

“When you were Kemnebi and I was Shemei, you mean.”

“Yes.”

My gaze traced the outline of his face, the line of his nose, the curve of his mouth. The mouth that, thousands of years ago, had kissed me and seduced me and encouraged me into doing things that should have been left undone. Despite my engagement to Bakari, I had wanted him, and I found the excuse to have him.

Though I couldn’t be sure, I had a feeling that the decision had cost me everything. And the words I’d whispered to him so very long ago I whispered again now.

“I do not want to want you.”

Galen’s eyes lit with quiet victory and I turned away, moving closer to the sofa and hoping the distance between us would settle my nerves and cool the attraction. “These memories come at me in waves and when I least expect them.” I toyed with a pillow on the burgundy sofa and looked at him again. “Is that what happened to you?”

“No. My regression was much more difficult than yours seems to be. Bellotti triggered it when I met him for the first time about a year ago. It wasn’t a pleasant experience.”

“Why?”

He shrugged.

“My memories are clustering now, and they’re starting to bleed into my present to the point that others think I’m losing touch with reality. It’s like I can see and experience both lives at the same time and the harder I try to make everything fit, the less I understand. Did that happen to you, too?”

“Yes and no. You cannot force the memories to come, Shemei. You can only encourage them. That was my most difficult lesson to learn.”

“A lesson from a regression therapist?” I asked.

“A regression therapist,” he said with a wry smile, “cannot help your regression in the same way an actual person from your past can.”

“Your experience must have felt very lonely.”

“‘Lonely’ is not the word I would have chosen. And my experience was very different from yours.”

He dropped his head, burdened by remorse that he didn’t care to hide, and I marveled at the depth of emotion this man carried. David kept his feelings close to his heart, letting them out only when needed and with unconditional passion and intensity when he did. Galen wore his feelings like his clothes, visible to anyone who cared enough to pay attention.

“Do you know your entire past life now?” I asked.

“A good deal of it but not all of it.”

He seemed disappointed by that, but not in a way I understood. “You make it sound as if learning about that other life was a mistake.”

“In some ways it was.”

“What happened to you?”

Long seconds passed by before he responded, and even then it seemed obligatory and with shame. “It isn’t what happened to me but what happened to us.”

“I don’t understand.”

Galen pressed his lips together.

I walked back to him and stood my ground. “I need to know, Galen. I have a feeling that what happened in my past is affecting decisions I’m making now. In fact, I get the feeling that it’s not just my decisions that are impacted but also my life overall. There are parallels between these two lives and the people within it, and I don’t understand what they mean.”

“Because you are trying too hard.”

In a single, fluid motion, Galen sat down on the sofa. His eyes met mine and I felt the familiar pull of his deep, extraordinary gaze. It seemed to hold so many secrets yet I sensed a distance in him that I couldn’t comprehend. I suspected he kept that distance by choice.

“We were important to each other,” I said, reading into his silence.

Galen nodded.

I sat down beside him. “Did we love each other?”

Galen didn’t answer but I felt drawn into the emotional hold he had on me. Some instinctive, baser part of me recognized him, and somewhere deeper inside I felt a stirring passion that flickered and teased, needing only the right spark for it to burn again.

I searched his face, sifting through images and memories, the yearning and the desire, like the pages of a well-worn diary. In those soul-searching moments, a sudden awareness emerged and it was not the one I expected.

“You’re the reason I can’t commit to David.”

Galen sighed and nodded.

“Because of an unresolved issue from long ago. From something I did with you.”

“Yes.”

I waited for more information but none came, and when I tried digging for the memories deeply buried inside me, the more out of reach they felt. It was like a cement wall had been erected, keeping me from what I needed to know.

“I need your help, Galen. Please.”

“You already see what you need to see. You only need to open your eyes to understand. Let go of your fear, Shemei.”

“I’m not Shemei, Galen. Not anymore.”

“And that is why you can’t move forward with your regression. You’re fighting the very person you are, deep inside.”

The words seemed familiar, from a place that was lit with candles on a night that was filled with promise and unease. Galen had told me that I had lost Bakari to war, and I had invited him to my chamber wanting to forget the pain. Wanting to erase Bakari from my memory.

At least, that’s what I had kept telling myself.

But once Kemnebi arrived, I wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision. I wanted him to leave but I couldn’t bring myself to make him go. In silence and solitude I stood near the bed I had only shared with Bakari, questioning what I’d done to anger the gods so much that they thought it necessary to take away the man I loved.

I felt Kemnebi’s warm breath on my neck.

“Shemei,” he whispered.

I turned to him and swayed on my feet as the first effects of the wine and the lotus took hold.

“Push me away, Shemei.” His voice, as intoxicating as the flower and wine, flowed through my body. “Do it, or I will make the decision for us.”

He pressed against me as his hands traveled lower. I felt the hunger and urgency in his body and when his mouth claimed mine, I tensed at the foreign taste of his tongue. The unfamiliar feel of his body on top of mine.

A body that was now Galen’s.