Indulgence (219 page)

“Who is this?” I asked Jenna.

Jenna peeked over my shoulder. “Whoa!” she exclaimed. “I
don’t know but he sure is a looker.”

“Apparently we know each other by the way he has his arm
around me. I haven’t mentioned anything about him to you?”

“Ali, you and I haven’t talked that much and when we did, it
was brief. You never mentioned if you were seeing someone new.” Jenna winced as
she delivered the news, as if trying to break it to me softly.

The words sliced through me.
Seeing someone new
. It
seemed so surreal that I could be dating anybody when I felt like I had just
lost Matt.

“But it’s okay if you are,” Jenna quickly added. “Matt has
been gone for three years; it’s understandable that you’ve moved on by now.”

Jenna’s words echoed through my ears as I stared at the
picture. I must have met this stranger sometime during the last few years if I
couldn’t remember him at all.

I set the frame down and flung myself on the couch. “This
sucks!” I yelled at the top of my lungs and punched a cushion. “This not
remembering stuff is for the birds. I feel like my life has been flipped upside
down, that I went to bed and woke up living someone else’s life!”

“Oh Ali, I’m so sorry,” Jenna said. “Doctor Frid said it
would take some time for your memory to come back. It
will
come back.
And now that you are home, maybe that will happen sooner rather than later.”

I looked Jenna in the eyes; she was trying to reassure me
that I would be okay, but it wasn’t working. I felt tears welling up in my eyes
and I really didn’t want to cry anymore. I rolled my eyes and clenched my jaw
to make the tears stop.

“I can spend the night here if you want,” Jenna offered.

I let out a large sigh, trying to decide if that was what I
wanted or if I wanted some time to myself. My thoughts were interrupted by a
frantic knock at the door. I sat up and looked at Jenna.

“Who could that be?” I asked.

Jenna shrugged her shoulders.

I got up and went to the front door, cracking it just enough
for me to see outside. A man in a leather riding jacket stood there fumbling to
remove his motorcycle helmet. Beyond him, parked in my driveway, was a
motorcycle. It was a sharp, red sport bike but a make and model that I didn’t
recognize. I found this odd since Matt taught me quite a bit about motorcycles
and I could usually quickly identify most any bike.

“Allison,” the voice called out from under the helmet. “Are
you all right?”

The stranger pulled off his helmet and ran his fingers
through his dark hair. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Um,” I stammered. I squinted to make sure I was seeing
things clearly. The man in front of me was the same man from the picture.

“I’m, um, I’m fine,” I stammered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I was out of town on
business but as soon as I heard about your accident, I flew back.”

“Uh huh,” I responded, hoping my mind would start connecting
some dots.

“Ali,” Jenna called from the living room, “who is it?”

I opened the door wider to allow the stranger to enter. He
was more beautiful in person than he was in the photograph. He was definitely
taller than me and his hair was different than it was in the picture. His dark
locks were long and spiky on top and short on the sides and perfectly held in
place even though he had just removed a helmet. His features were chiseled and
defined, his cheekbones high, his jaw strong. His skin appeared smooth and
flawless, pale like mine, and his eyes…well, they were breathtaking. They were
a beautiful shade of aquamarine with several yellow flecks.

I stood in the middle of the foyer staring at the stranger
and he stared back, holding my gaze.

“Well are you going to introduce me?” Jenna asked politely
as she walked into the foyer, clearing her throat.

“Um, err, this is Jenna Wintourly, my best friend,” I said
to the handsome stranger, pointing over my shoulder without moving my head.
“Jenna, this is…um…” I trailed off.

The stranger cocked his head and narrowed his eyes.
“Allison, do you know who I am? Do you remember me?” He placed a hand on my arm
and affectionately rubbed it.

“She, uh, hit her head,” Jenna fumbled. The stranger looked
at Jenna, and that look apparently took her voice away because she didn’t
finish her sentence.

I continued staring into his eyes as my mind scanned through
what must have been memories. Picture after picture of the two of us together
flew through my mind. They were mostly head shots of the two of us in various
poses, the backgrounds indiscernible. I concentrated, hoping I could freeze on
one scene and that it would give me some concrete information. I squeezed my
eyes shut, willing the memories to stop at one and they finally did. We were in
an embrace staring deep into each other’s eyes. The stranger mouthed
I love
you, Allison
and I mouthed
I love you
back to him.

I opened my eyes. “Yes, I remember you.”

The stranger stepped closer and bowed his head as if to get
a better look into my eyes. “What is my name?” he whispered. He smelled so
delicious that I wanted to wrap my arms around him and not let go, but I fought
the urge. He grabbed both of my hands and a wave of energy ran over me, a warm
numbing feeling. Images flew through my head like a flip book, more scenes of
the two of us together.

“Vincent,” I whispered. A smirk drew across the stranger’s
face as he raised an eyebrow waiting for me to speak his last name. “Vincent
Drake.”

I pulled my hands away from his and turned to look at Jenna.
“This is Vincent Drake,” I said assuredly.

“Oh Ali! This is great,” Jenna gushed. She ran over and gave
me a hug. “Your memory is coming back already! That’s so promising.”

“Very promising,” Vincent echoed, his smooth voice soft and
pleasant.

“Nice to meet you,” Jenna said to Vincent. The two shook
hands. Jenna smiled like a little kid in a toy store. She couldn’t stop
staring.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Vincent replied, turning Jenna’s
hand to kiss it. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Jenna blurted out.

There was a pause as Jenna and Vincent were caught in a brief
gaze before Jenna shook her hand loose. “I uh, should get going and leave you
two alone. Unless you need me, Ali.”

I looked at Vincent, and while I couldn’t remember the
details of our apparent relationship, I felt that I had known him a long time;
long enough that I could be alone with him. It felt like there was depth to our
relationship in the visions that flashed through my head and I felt safe in his
presence now. This man was part of my life. I could feel it if even if I didn’t
remember it.

“I’m fine Jenna, thanks. Thanks for everything.”

“Okay, well I left my phone number on the fridge; I figured
you wouldn’t remember it.”

Jenna grabbed her jacket and purse and headed for the door.
“Call if you need anything. Take care of her,” Jenna said pointing a finger at
Vincent.

“There’s nothing more I’d rather do,” he responded.

I couldn’t get the image out of my mind.
I love you,
Allison
, Vincent whispered to me.
I love you,
I whispered back. The
vision had been so vivid I had actually felt Vincent’s arms around me and heard
the words we both uttered. I replayed the scene in my mind like a skipping
record, still not believing that I was with another man who wasn’t my husband.
Realizing Vincent and I were together was made easier by the emotions
accompanying the vision; the words were sincere, the feelings true. I felt it
as I saw it. I could practically taste the passion in those spoken words. Now I
just needed the memories to make all the pieces fall into place.

I sat on the couch mulling over this particular vision as
Vincent dashed around the house tending to my every need. He had been doing
this for the past several hours, ever since Jenna had left us. I thought it was
a bit much; I was a big girl and could take care of myself. But I figured I’d
let him spoil me if that was what he wanted.

“Do you want me to get you a book to read?” Vincent asked,
pointing to the den.

“No, I’m not in the mood for reading.”

“Are you sure? It’s getting late and it might help you fall
asleep.”

“I’m sure.”

Vincent looked towards the den and back at me. His mouth
parted, as if he were going to ask again if I wanted a book, but I cut him off.
“I really don’t want a book,” I stated. I had no idea why he wanted me to read
something so badly.

“Well how about a blanket?”

“No, I’m…” I trailed off. There was no point in finishing
the sentence. Vincent was already up the stairs, in my bedroom retrieving a
blanket. A blanket I didn’t need. I was hot and seemed to be getting hotter by
the second. I took off my sweatshirt and socks and straightened my t-shirt.

“Here you go.” Vincent unfolded the blanket and swept it
across my lap, tucking it in under my feet.

“Thanks.” I didn’t want to fight it.

“How about a fire?”

“Fine,” I resigned. Even if I said no, I was sure he’d still
build it.

I watched Vincent stack wood in the fireplace and shove
newspaper between the logs. So this was my boyfriend. The boyfriend I couldn’t
remember.
He is quite handsome
, I thought as a smile spread across my
face. He stood, grabbed some matches from the mantle and bent over to light the
fire. I had to admit, it was a nice view.

“Do you know what happened, Allison?” Vincent turned to look
at me. I darted my eyes away from his rear view. The corners of his mouth
turned up. I was busted.

“They say I was in an accident,” I responded, shrugging my
shoulders. “I don’t know where I was or what I was doing. Apparently the road
was wet, I hit my brakes and here I am missing part of my memory.”

“The doctor said your memory would come back.” He sounded so
sure of it that he almost convinced me.

“Yeah…” I drifted off, staring at the flickering fire.

“What is it?” Vincent asked and sat next to me on the couch.
“Do you not feel well?”

“It’s not that. I feel fine. Too fine maybe. Not a bump,
scrape, bruise or sore muscle here.”

“Yes, it is a miracle you weren’t seriously hurt.
Physically, that is.”

“Yeah, miracle,” I muttered.

“Then what is it? I can tell something is disturbing you.”

“I don’t want to upset you. It’s silly. It’s just my memory
or something.”

“It’s not silly, Allison. You can tell me anything.”

I gazed into Vincent’s beautiful blue eyes.
I love you,
flashed
across my mind again. I inhaled and his scent filled my nostrils. It was
refreshing like a spring day, but warm like autumn and all around scrumptious.
I resisted the urge to get lost in his eyes or his presence.

I took a deep breath before I began. “When I woke up in the
hospital, I um, was looking for Matt. I didn’t remember you. I didn’t ask for
you. I swore that I was driving and Matt was in the car with me when the
accident happened. Silly, huh?” I cringed in anticipation of Vincent’s
response.

“You thought you were with Matt the night of your accident?”

Vincent sounded surprised, but that wasn’t the part of my
confession I had expected him to react to. I thought he would have been upset
that I didn’t remember him.

“Yeah, but Doctor Frid said it was just my mind recalling a
past memory, some other time when Matt was with me. The doc figured I was going
to have some memory loss but wasn’t sure how much.” I paused and stared at my
hands, feeling foolish for not remembering my boyfriend. “I’m sorry,” I
muttered.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I didn’t remember you. I
don’t
remember you.” Tears
swelled behind my beleaguered eyes. “I mean, it’s strange, Vincent. I have no
memory of you and yet I feel like I have known you my entire life. I feel
comfortable with you, like I know you and you know me. I just don’t have any of
the memories to back these feelings.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Vincent said as he
wiped my tears with his thumbs. His flesh was exceptionally hot.

“You’re so warm,” I said. A gentle smile spread across his
lips.

“Well if you can’t remember, Allison,” Vincent said,
ignoring my observation, “I’m just going to have to help you remember.”

“Right,” I mumbled and rolled my eyes. “Good luck.” If my
best friend from kindergarten couldn’t jog my memory, I doubted my boyfriend of
only a year would get me to remember anything.

“Do you remember how we first met?”

“Come on Vincent.” I didn’t want to play this game. I just
wanted to relax.

Vincent placed his index finger to my lips, hushing me.
“Humor me,” he requested. I stared into his eyes, which gave my stomach the
butterflies, and resigned.

“No,” I replied. “I don’t remember how we met.”

“Think back to about a year ago.”

I shook my head, already giving up.

“Allison, clear your mind and concentrate. Think back to
last fall. You drove into town and stopped at a café. Do you remember the café?
You frequented the place.”

Vincent placed his hands on my leg and a jolt of energy ran
through me. I shivered but he didn’t seem to notice. My attraction to him,
everything I felt when I looked at him or inhaled his scent, came to life with
his touch.

“Do you remember the couch you usually sat on? The one next
to the bookshelves?”

I stared harder at the fire and a vision began to flicker in
my mind, just like the flames in the fireplace. It was like watching a
television show with bad reception. Visions and blackness intermingled. The
visions became slightly longer until I could finally make out a scene. It was a
charming little place with weathered wood floors and heavy curtains that made
the space feel more like a parlor than a coffee shop. Coffee machines were
stationed near the front door next to a glass counter filled with gourmet
sandwiches and sweets. Mismatched tables and chairs filled most of the dining
area and a handful of people were sipping their caffeinated beverages. The air
was saturated with a heavy coffee aroma and the sound of an acoustic guitar. A
plush couch faced the fireplace and a wall of bookshelves. And there I was,
sitting on the couch with a cup of tea and a book. But I wasn’t reading the
book; I was captivated by the music flowing from a dark corner in the back of
the room. I strained to see who was there but couldn’t make much of the shadowy
silhouette. The music faded and the figure emerged, his head hung low. The man
went to the counter, retrieved a cup of coffee and turned to face me.