AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“On that note,” Naamah said, an ominous twinkle in her eye, “you know what that means, right?”
“That I can breathe easy and she won’t beat herself up later for having been with someone else, even if it was unintentional?”
“No, silly.” She rolled her eyes. “It means that she’s basically a virgin.”
I groaned and covered my face with my hands.
“A blank canvas, if you will,” my mother went on, without regard for my mental pain.
“If your next sentence is to the effect that I can paint her any way I want, I will throw you out of this cave.”
Her chuckle was irritatingly unrepentant. “Think of all the ways you can show her the ropes.” She paused, tapping a finger against her mouth. “Although, you might want to wait to show her actual ropes, you know. Best not to barge in with the kinky stuff until she’s more comfortable with you.”
I stared at the ceiling and prayed to Hell for patience.
When Naamah was done giggling, I said, “I’m well aware of all of that, thank you. It’s why I’m taking it slow with her.”
“Hm.” She sat on a flat rock opposite my bed. “And how’s it going with her memory?”
“Better than I’d thought possible. There were several instances today where she said something that clearly stemmed from her suppressed memory—and she was the one to initiate that.” I raised a brow as I met her gaze. “It wasn’t me this time reenacting a scene from our past.”
“But she doesn’t remember fully?”
“No.”
Her look was thoughtful. “So it’s just more and more pieces of her memories coming loose from whatever wall keeps them contained. Pity she’s not human anymore, at least with regard to this. Otherwise, you might have just been able to go into her mind and see if you could break the wall down.”
“Well, that’s a moot point.” As an angel, her mental shields were adamantine. “And even if entering her mind was at all possible, I wouldn’t presume that it’d be easy to dismantle the sort of containment keeping her memories bound. There’s no telling if that would not cause unforeseen damage.”
“True.” She sighed and looked to the side. “Mental work is complex.”
And if anyone had experience with that, it was her.
“All I can do,” I said, “is encourage the cracks in the wall that are occurring naturally and hope it will eventually be enough to break all of her memories free.”
Maybe the more I subtly re-created scenes from our past, the more it would trigger those flashes of remembering, until perhaps all of those pieces would one day connect to a whole.
Naamah crossed her legs, resting her elbows on her knee and supporting her chin in one hand. “It could be that she needs a stronger catalyst for the entirety of her memories to return.” At my raised brow, she added, “Reenacting scenes from the past is all good and well, but I would focus on those with the most emotional impact. I suspect that’s where the key might be. Memories are nothing but feelings frozen in time. People will forget what you said or did, but they’ll always remember how you made them feel.”
I considered her words.
“If what you’ve told me of your love is true,” Naamah continued, “and I believe you when you say it is, then what she felt for you may well have been the strongest emotion she’s ever experienced, and it will have underlain her entire identity, will have colored her perception of life and of herself. So all those memories that are right now bubble-wrapped inside her? They’ll be wound up tightly in her love for you. Her feelings will thread through all of her recollections. Pull on the right string, and it will all unravel.”
“I just have to find the right string.”
My mind already ran through all the possibilities of shared memories with emotional impact, trying to find those I could feasibly re-create without arousing suspicion.
“I’m sure you will,” Naamah said warmly. After a pause, she added, “I saw your father the other day.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
She hummed in assent. “Yep. And you won’t believe where—he was coming to see Zoe.”
I shot up from the bed, my heart a drumroll in my chest, my blood infused with equal parts rage and fear. “Why? Why would he come to see her?”
“I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “From what I could glean through my network later, he seems to have visited her a few times over the years. Zoe’s never mentioned him, which makes me think it’s not that important. I don’t know what his endgame is here, or if there even is one.”
“Oh, I’m sure there is one,” I muttered.
