Remembering

MARK’S POV

I throw myself into every problem that presents itself at the office. Making things happen faster than they usually do. By the time it is time to go home, I am tired and ready to call it a day. 

I tried not to think of her at all, but it turned out to be a futile goal. She was in my head all day. Usually, I would find it easy to walk away from any situation. Today, the thought of her heart being broken because I dropped her outside my room, haunts me. 

I made her feel rejected. What if she cried all day? What if she hates me? Or worse, what if she left?

I gather my things and quickly leave the office. The staff caught on that I was on fire today and started coming to me with their most difficult clients and problems, which I, of course, sorted in minutes. The last thing I want now, is another problem to solve. I want to get home. I want to see how much damage I have done. 

On my drive home, my mind starts to argue with itself. 

You are an asshole!

You did the right thing. 

You hurt her feelings. 

How can you sleep with her? She can’t even remember her own name. 

She is a grown woman, she wanted you. 

I shake my head. I cannot be at odds with myself. I will see what her reaction is when I get home and then side with that. If she thinks I am an asshole, then I am an asshole. 

I pull up outside the house and get out of the car. Usually Norman would come out and ask how my day had been. Norman didn’t come out today. Ugh, all the staff know that I am an asshole also now. 

I walk up the few steps to the front door and open it myself. As I step into the house I am confronted with a little redhead. She is standing in the middle of the reception area with her fists on her hips. 

She likes going barefoot by the look of it. She is wearing a little white dress that hangs just above her knee. Her hair frames her beautiful face like flames of fire. And, of course, she looks angry. I look around the room and see Norman deliberately heading into the kitchen. 

That’s right, this is clearly my fight. I will stand alone. 

This angry woman standing in front of me must be the most adorable thing I have ever seen. I try not to smile at her. I raise my eyebrows. 

“Good evening.” I greet her. 

“I have an antiques shop in town. If I have been in a coma for three months and I am now a prisoner in your home, who is looking after my shop?” She lets loose. 

“Oh, we got some memory back?” I reply to her. I shrug my coat off and am pleasantly surprised when Norman appears next to me to take it. Not alone after all. 

“Prisoner?” I ask her, giving her a sidelong glance. 

“Well. I have not been able to leave all day!” She says a little too loud to be regarded as normal conversation. 

I turn back to her. 

“I appointed someone to look after your store. I have not been able to locate where you were living, so unfortunately, I could not keep a hand over any pets or dying plants.” I tell her in a soft voice. “I could also not find any relatives to tell that you have survived and are well.” I keep my eye on her to gauge her reaction.

She plays with her thumbs and lowers her gaze. 

“Thank you.” She tells me. 

“It is only a pleasure.” I assure her. 

“I do not have any relatives. I live inside the shop, at the back is a small apartment. I appreciate you appointing someone to look after the store.”

Her whole demeanour changed. She seems calm now. 

“Anything else?” I ask her. 

“Yes.” She says instantly. For a moment I contemplate getting out of the situation. I can only imagine what the other topic is that has been bothering her. The argument my mind had with itself validated my behaviour with the reason being that she had memory loss. Now that her memory is back, I need to admit to myself that that was not the reason for pushing her away. How can I ever tell her the truth? I have never condoned any level of lying. 

I rub my hand over my face. 

“Yes?” I ask her. There is an excitement that flares up in her eyes and she quickly makes way to my study. I follow her. Once inside she closes the doors behind us and walks to the fireplace set into the furthest wall. 

Above the fireplace is an antique sword. 

“This is the best condition I have ever seen this in. It has been kept very well for centuries.” She practically exclaims. I walk over to her. Her excitement is contagious. 

“It is unbelievably old. And yes, it is very well preserved.” I tell her. 

“Where did you get it?” She asks, looking at the craftsmanship of the handle in awe. 

“It was handed down a generation.” I tell her, hoping she misses the sly play of words.

She turns to me. 

“Dinner is ready, I waited for you.” She tells me with equal excitement. I look at her and try not to probe her mind, but I am curious. Is she excited to see me or is she excited for the dinner menu? Before I could use any of my gifts on her she turns and walks out of the study. Once again, I follow her. 

We eat together at the dining room table. The table is too big for two people but Norman only set the one corner of the table. We spend dinner talking about mundane things like today’s weather and some of the things she saw in the local news. I enjoy the conversation and her pleasant nature. 

After we finished eating, she sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest. She looks at me, still smiling, but different. 

“What do you want to tell me?” I ask her. 

“Not tell, ask.” She says quickly.

“Very well. Ask then.”

“Why did you dump me outside your bedroom. I was sure you wanted it? The next moment I was reeling in the hallway. Did I do something?” she asks quickly. I had to know this was coming. She would not accept being pushed away and then crawl into a bundle and cry. These fiery red heads have a way of getting what they want. 

“The timing was very bad. There are things you do not know. Once you know these things you will not want to come near me.” I tell her while placing my napkin in my plate. “You will have to excuse me now. Thank you for the lovely dinner. The company was the best part.” I tell her with a smile before leaving and retreating to my room. 

My heart twists as I walk away from her. The last thing I want to do is hurt this girl. I want to protect her at all costs. If I am protecting her from me or from Cole, I do not know yet. All I know is between Cole and myself, she is as good as dead. I cannot let her be torn like June was. 

I reach my room and head straight to the shower. It was a long day and I cannot wait to wash it all off. I will need to get together with Clive and Anthony tomorrow to revise our moving plan. We cannot let Cole set his eyes on Nina. I need to find a way to protect Nina against Cole first. It cannot happen the other way around. 

The shower is scorching hot and exactly what I need to burn the day off my skin. I stand under the hot water as long as I can bare. When I get out of the shower, I feel refreshed enough to push through a little more of the problems the day presented. 

I go down to the study and make myself comfortable behind the desk, opening up my emails and answering the easy ones first. 

I then find an email from Cole. He wants to come to the house to discuss the next move. We have to move every decade to avoid being identified as the four brothers that do not age at all. We were heading to New York this year. That may have to change. 

I make arrangements to meet Cole at Clive’s place. I then arrange with Clive to be there when Cole shows up. I arrange with Anthony to be here when I go to the meeting to make sure that Nina is not alone with only the staff to protect her. 

Tomorrow may just be worse than today.