Vacant Heart

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Three Months Later...

The scene happening just outside the doors to my office is one I should confront headfirst, one I should brave and accept.

I've lost a good portion of a year of my life.

Somewhere in there, I went against the White House with an article I released top secret information in. I was offered a partnership at The Chronicle magazine months ago, a partnership which I've settled into this last week I've been out of the hospital because my boss insists I deserve it after the Pentagon debacle. Oh right, yes. There's also the Pentagon. Three months ago, I was in the Pentagon when a terrorist destroyed half of the building in an elaborate plan, killing over two-hundred people, although I have no recollection of why I was really there or how I got out other than what I've been told.

All I know is that whatever happened that day, I came out of it with brain damage, leaving me with retrograde amnesia, or so the doctors say.

Somewhere in all of this, according to Samantha... I fell in love. Hard. She says I fell hard.

And that's the worst part of this all. I've watched Hughes approach me slow, watched him limit and calculate what to say to me, when it's clear that he didn't use to have to do that. For the three weeks I recovered in a hospital bed, he was around. He gave me my distance, but when I did see him, he answered any questions I'd thought of to ask him.

Part of me didn't even want to find out. Everything he said, how we met, what we were like, it's not me. It sounds like the version of me my mother would love.

The scene outside the door consists of hushed, angry whispers. Aidan is outside, speaking with Samantha and they don't know it, but I've put my finger down on the receiver, so that their conversation is accessible to my sensitive ears.

"You better not give up on her," Samantha hisses. Through the parted blinds, I watch him move closer to her.

"Fuck, Samantha. I'm here. I've been here! I bought a damn apartment in the city just to be near her...but she doesn't fucking remember me. It's been months."

"It's going to take time. She'll get it back, Aidan."

"I feel like I should have expected this."

"I'm not coming to your pity party. Josephine is alive, Aidan. She's damaged, yes. She's not the same person you knew, but you managed to do it once."

"I had an entire week with her, secluded, alone, Samantha. She fell in love with me because of the circumstances we went through, and there aren't any of those here. She just received a damn promotion. She's not going to want to give that up."

"I think you're underestimating her, big-time." She shakes her head, pushing an accusing finger into his chest. "You know, I hardly know you. I was suspicious of you from the moment she told me that she was nervous of what you make her feel. I did a lot of shit that I regret to distance her from you, and she fought me harder than she's ever fought for anything in her life. I watched her give up relationships, opportunities, this damn partnership just to be loyal to you. I don't think you aren't unsure of her...I think you are unsure of yourself."

Fuck. I let go of the button like it's scalded me with flames, flying back into my seat.

Lately, with the drop of a hat, I'm easily overwhelmed. That happens when you can't remember damn important events in your life. That happens when someone tells you that you became a whole new person, and you've just reverted back to the old one. Even worse, that happens when you're told you fell in love with someone, and all you can remember is the fiancé you abandoned for this very job.