Page 45 of Fractured Memories

It’s the first time she’s pushed, but it doesn’t feel like she has an ulterior motive. There’s a flash of concern in her eyes that makes me think she really has been trying to give me my space but wants to know I’m okay. If everything she’s told me is true—if we really were friends—then maybe that’s all it is.

A wave of exhaustion washes over me. I’m so tired of holding everything in, of studying every interaction when I’m alone while I debate if I should be trying to escape this house and where I’d even go if I did.

It’s enough to make me want to finally take a chance. A small one.

I pick at a piece of fruit, not looking at Mika. “I can’t remember anything,” I say quietly. It’s easy to admit because it’s not a secret, but it’s a good starting point for all that I’m struggling with.

“That must be terribly frustrating.” Her voice is soft, understanding. I like that she didn’t say she already knew. That she didn’t belittle this leap I’ve taken by making it feel like nothing.

I nod, my throat tight. The idea of sharing any of my thoughts feels nearly impossible, and it has me considering ending the conversation here.

It’s so confusing. I keep thinking about the few days I spent with Damian, who genuinely seemed to want me to heal. Listening to Parker preach things that I’m still not certain aren’t true—even if they are a little skewed. I’m confused.

But I also think I’m getting less so.

“You are handling it better than I would.” There’s a playfulness to Mika’s tone that encourages me to look up at her. Her light brown eyes are filled with so much emotion that I almost feel guilty for ever doubting her. “I would have completely lost it after everything you’ve been through.”

A small laugh escapes me. “I kind of have…a few times now.”

“On Kieran?” She looks thrilled at the prospect.

I nod, feeling more proud than sheepish about it. “And your husband once.”

That has Mika’s head tipping back as she giggles. “He probably deserved it. I’m certain Kieran did.”

“He did!” I settle back in my chair feeling more at ease. “He’s always pushing me. Either he locks me in a room and refuses to look at me, or his temper gets the better of him over the smallest things.”

“That’s Kieran.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Honestly, they’re all temperamental as fuck. Even Lochlan. He acts goofy, but when he’s pissed off, he’s a little terrifying.”

“I can’t imagine you afraid of anyone.”

Her grin turns sharp, and she slips the small blade at her thigh free, twirling it. “That’s because I’m not.”

I stare at the weapon as she spins it, feeling an odd sense of longing. Mika must notice because she flips it over in her hand, holding the handle out toward me.

“You want to take a look?”

If she has any doubts about arming me, it doesn’t show in her body language. It’s enough to make me want to let my guard down around her—because she obviously doesn’t have any hesitation when it comes to doing so with me.

I take the blade from her, noticing how familiar it feels in my hand. The handle is a gorgeous dark wood that fits perfectly in my palm, the grain a beautiful contrast of colors that has me marveling at the design. The knife is lightweight and balanced, slender enough to be wielded effortlessly and small enough to easily carry around. Along the silver of the blade, small snowflakes have been engraved, and I twist it, watching the light reflect off of it.

“This is gorgeous,” I breathe, taking it in. Staring at it feels similar to the first time I saw Kieran’s patio, the sunset spilling over it. It tugs at something deep in my chest.

“One of my favorite Wintervale gifts.”

Holding the blade and seeing Mika’s obvious trust, I decide to push myself a little further. I keep my head down as I say, “Mika, I don’t know what to believe without my memories.” Fuck, it was hard to get that out, but it also bolsters me with a little courage.

Lifting my head, I find solace in her soft gaze. Enough so to keep going. “It’s what Kieran keeps snapping about. He’s said things to me that don’t make sense, and when I don’t immediately believe him, he…” Images flash through my mind—all the times he stormed away from me.

And that one night on his knees in front of me. The one time he didn’t fight me over my memories.

Sorrow passes over her features, and I remember when Kieran said she was like family. “Kieran is the worst at talking about how he’s feeling. Not that I’m excusing his behavior, but I want you to understand. He’s more of a man of action, even if his temper is awful. It has a lot to do with what they all went through growing up.” She shakes her head. “He wants you, even though you don’t remember him, and he’s really struggling with the loss of that relationship.”

I bite my lip and nod, digesting that. Placing her knife on the table, I gently slide it handle first toward her. “I guess if I look at it from his perspective, I can understand why he keeps getting upset.”

“He misses you.” Mika leans forward to place her hand on mine, leaving the blade on the table. “He’s said it to everyone but you, I’m sure. He hasn’t slept since the day you went missing, and he had expected your homecoming to go differently. I know that his actions have seemed a little…”

“Insane?”