by A. M. Myers
Mercedes:
His name is Sawyer and
he’ll meet you at the diner down
the street from your place at midnight.
Sucking in a breath, I read the text two more times before checking the clock again. Eleven fifteen. Time to go. As I tuck the phone into my back pocket, I walk over to the little desk in the corner of the room and sink into the chair in front of it. A stack of letterhead with my company’s logo greets me as I open the first drawer and I pull out a piece before grabbing a pen. My pen hovers above the page for a second before I sigh. This whole situation… it’s just so fucked and me running out on Gavin in the middle of the night isn’t fair but neither is expecting me to hang around here when nothing feels right anymore. I know I need to go find my memories in my own way, in my own time but it doesn’t make it any easier.
After hanging up with Mercedes this morning, I spent hours going through the massive closet and packing everything I wanted to take with me before wasting the rest of the day thinking about all the things I want to do when I get back to Baton Rouge. It’s weird that even though I don’t remember being away, I somehow miss my city and the longer I spend in Miami, I’m wondering what it was that kept me here. Was it Dad? My company? None of it makes any sense which is all the more reason why I need to go even if I do feel guilty for what I’m about to do to a perfectly nice man. It also doesn’t help that he came from work this afternoon with flowers in hand and cooked me a delicious meal that I could barely eat due to my tumultuous stomach. I got away with telling him that I didn’t feel well, which wasn’t as much of a lie as I thought it would be, and disappearing into the bedroom right afterward. Sighing, I stare down at the paper and shake my head as I start writing.
Gavin,
I’m sorry.
Tossing the pen down, I sink back into the chair and cross my arms over my chest. Shit. I can’t just leave him that, can I? But I don’t know what else to say. I am sorry that this is what I need and I’m sorry that everything worked out this way. Mostly, I am sorry that this is going to hurt him. That’s not what I want to do but I don’t see any other option in front of me. My stomach aches as I lean forward and grab the pen again.
Gavin,
I’m sorry… for a lot of things but most of all is that this is going to hurt you. In the time we’ve spent together, you seem like a good man but the trouble is, I don’t know who I am anymore. I look around this apartment we shared and I don’t recognize any piece of myself. I need to go figure things out on my own but to ask that you wait for me when I can’t promise you a single thing isn’t fair so I hope you find a way to move on with your life and be happy again. And please, don’t come after me. If this is real, if you and I are meant to be together, I have faith that the universe will bring us together again.
Xoxo,
Juliette
I stare down at my words for a few seconds before setting the pen down and grabbing the note as I stand up from the chair. With my note in hand, I grab my bags and inch toward the door, listening for movement on the other side but it’s been quiet for a while now. At dinner, Gavin informed me that he would be crashing in the spare bedroom at the top of the stairs until my memories came back and I was so relieved that he wasn’t trying to force anything on me. I imagine it’s incredibly painful for him to be in this house with me but unable to touch me like he’s used to and unwelcome in his own bedroom but he never puts any pressure on me and never tries to make me feel bad for the way things are. Just one more reason to feel guilty about what I’m about to do.
The door creaks as I slowly pull it open and I wince, my ears straining as I stare into the darkness. It certainly looks like he’s gone to bed for the night. I creep forward, trying to be as quiet as possible as I roll my suitcase behind me and clutch the note in my hand. The apartment is dark and the only sound is the soft tick of the large clock mounted on the wall in the living room. I stop in the kitchen, next to the island and set the note down before pulling my engagement ring off and laying it on top as tears sting my eyes.
I’m so sorry.
I stare at the ring for another second before turning away and grabbing my suitcase handle again. My gaze flicks to the closed door at the top of the stairs as I walk to the elevator and I silently ask him for forgiveness and understanding. But even through the guilt I feel over the hurt this is going to cause him, there isn’t a single part of me that feels like leaving is a mistake. In fact, it feels like the best thing I’ve done since waking up in the hospital a week ago. With newfound resolve, I close the distance between me and the elevator and press the button. The doors immediately slide open and I step inside, pressing the button for the lobby. As the car begins its descent, I release a breath and lean back against the back wall. Just a little bit farther and I’ll finally be on my way home again. My heart jumps as the doors open again in the lobby, revealing Carl. He glances up and his look of surprise melts away as he smiles at me.
“Can I help you, Miss Shaw?”
I smile and shake my head. “No, thank you, Carl. I’m all good.”
“Going on a trip?” he asks, eyeing my bags and I glance back at the suitcase I’m pulling behind me. Should I tell him where I’m going? In my note, I asked Gavin not to try and find me but do I really expect him to do that? From the little I know about him, I don’t know that I can see him as the type of man to sit idly by and just wait for the woman he loves to come back. Turning back to Carl, I force another smile.
“Just a little mental health vacation.”
He arches a brow. “Somewhere tropical, I hope.”
“Fiji.”
“Excellent.” He flashes me a smile for a second before it falls. “I meant to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your father’s passing. He was a great man.”
I nod, tears stinging my eyes. “Thank you, Carl.”
“Of course. Will Mr. Hale be joining you on your trip?”
“No,” I answer, shaking my head. “He won’t be able to make it this time.”
He nods and glances to the door. “Would you like me to call you a cab to the airport?”
“Thank you, Carl, but no. I have an errand or two to run before my flight.”
His brows knit together as he studies me. “Miss Shaw…”
“Have a good night, Carl,” I say, interrupting him as I step around him and head for the door. When I glance back over my shoulder, he is still studying me and I flash him another smile as I wave, hoping it will convince him to let it go. Finally, he shakes his head and sighs.
“You, too, Miss Shaw.”
Once I’m outside, I glance back again and release a breath when I see Carl leaning over the counter as he thumbs through a magazine. Thank God. I thought he was going to blow up my plan before I even made it out of the building. When I’m out of his sightline, I pull my phone from my pocket and program the address Mercedes sent me earlier into the GPS and study the map. It’s only a couple blocks down the street. Turning toward the diner, I start off down the street, hoping that I find an ATM along the way. I need to grab as much cash as I can before we leave the city so that I have a little bit of a head start before Gavin starts looking for me.
As soon as the thought hits me, my steps falter and I stop as I suck in a breath. Of course he’s going to chase after me. What man in his right mind, who loves his woman, would just sit by when she breaks off their engagement via a note and runs away in the middle of the night? Especially a man like Gavin who has the means to do so. No matter how hard he tries to honor my wishes, it’s only a matter of time before he searches me out and if I’m being honest with myself, I always knew that but it doesn’t mean I am going to make it easy for him. I need whatever space I can get and I need to find myself, whether that is some version of the me he fell in love with or if it is this girl I see in the mirror, a weird mix of who I was five years ago and pieces of the woman I started to discover when I woke up in the hospital a week ago and it would be harder to do around him. The ten
sion leaves my body as I release the breath I’d been holding and begin walking down the street again, feeling more confident. There’s only about a thousand miles between Miami and Baton Rouge but I’ll do whatever I can to buy myself the time I need to work this all out.
An ATM sign catches my attention and I rush over to it as I pull my wallet out of my purse. I slip my card into the machine and my eyes widen when it prompts me for my pin. Shit. What the hell is my pin? God, this is what I get for throwing this plan together so fast. My foot taps against the pavement as I run through important dates in my head and I whisper a curse as I key my birthday into the machine.
“Please work,” I whisper. My heart drops when an error message pops up on the screen before asking for my pin again.
Shit.
Running a hand through my hair, I shake my head and key in the only other sequence of numbers bouncing around in my head - my parents’ anniversary. This time the menu pops up and I smile as I press the withdrawal button and key in a thousand dollars. The machine begins to make a whirling noise and spits my money out below as a receipt prints from a slot next to the screen. I grab the cash and shove it in my wallet. I’m about to ball up the receipt and throw it away when the words from my dad’s letter come back to me. Staring down at the astronomical number under account balance, I suck in a breath before quickly shoving it in my bag.
“Okay,” I breathe as I pull my phone from my pocket and check the GPS again. I’m only a block from the diner and it’s almost midnight so I need to get moving. Electricity zips through my body as I continue down the street, thinking about being back in Baton Rouge and seeing Mercedes again. Once I’m there, I can figure out my next move but right now, I’m just too excited to care about the small details of this plan that I didn’t have time to flesh out.
The sign of the diner comes into view, boasting the best pancakes in Miami-Dade county, and I can’t fight back my smile. This is it. I made it and I’m actually going home. I scan the parking lot and notice a man sitting in a parked truck with the engine running, the windows rolled down and Louisiana license plates. That has to be Sawyer. His light brown hair is falling into his face and he brushes it back with a hand covered in bright, colorful ink. The tattoos snake up his arm and into the sleeve of his black flannel shirt. He lays his head back on the seat before bringing a steaming styrofoam cup to his lips and takes a sip. A flash of metal catches my attention and I cock my head to the side. Is that a nose ring? Usually I can’t stand it when men have their noses pierced but just from the side profile, it works for him… really well. Almost as if he can sense me, he turns and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen slam into mine. I suck in a breath and stumble back as my heart kicks in my chest.
His gaze narrows and he studies me for a second before his gaze drops to the bags behind me and he sets his coffee cup down as the door opens. When he steps out of the truck, I begin walking again, putting one foot in front of the other without any instruction from my brain, almost as if he’s pulling me into him, drawing me in with a look alone. I close the distance between us and stop in front of him, dropping my head back to meet his eyes again.
“Sawyer?” I ask and he nods as he glances down my body.
“Juliette?”
I nod and lick my lips as my heart thunders in my chest. “That’s me.”
Jesus Christ.
Could I possibly get anymore awkward? You would think I’d never spoken to a man in my life or maybe it’s just been so long that my brain, even without my memories, has no idea what to do. Lord, what is happening to me right now? Our eyes meet again and warmth rushes through me.
“Here,” he says, breaking the spell as he reaches for my suitcase. “Let me get that loaded up in the back of the truck.”
I nod, mesmerized into silence as he takes my things and lifts them into the bed of the truck before turning to face me again. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking almost shy, as he glances up at me and I swear, my heart skips a beat. This man checks off every single “bad boy” box I could think of and even some that never occurred to me and damn if my traitorous body isn’t responding like I’m still an overzealous teenager instead of a grown woman who runs her own damn company. He’s not just “bad boy” though, that much is clear from our brief interaction and I tilt my head to the side as I study him, frustrated that I can’t figure him out.
“Are you ready to go?”
I blink. “Uh… actually, I need to run to the bathroom first. I’ll be right back.”
I leave him standing by the truck without waiting for a response as I book it into the diner and find the bathroom at the back of the dining room. As soon as I’m locked in the stall, I dial Mercedes’ number.
“Jett? Everything okay?”
“Um…”
She sucks in a breath. “What is it? Did you make it to the diner okay?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“And is Sawyer there?”
I close my eyes as I picture him standing next to his truck and nod. “Yep.”
“Then what is wrong?”
“Nothing,” I answer, pinching the bridge of my nose as I picture the man outside. My heart thumps and I press my trembling hand to my chest. Oh, this is ridiculous. “It’s just… how well do you know this guy?”
“Sawyer?”
I nod. “Yes, Sawyer.”
“Well, I’ve never actually talked to him…”
“Mercedes,” I hiss, rolling my eyes as my shoulders fall back against the wall. “You sent a stranger to drive me back to Louisiana?”
She laughs. “I mean, kind of, but you just have to trust me. All those boys in the club are top notch. You can trust him with your life.”
“The club?”
“Yeah, he’s in the Bayou Devils.”
An image of that sexy man out there straddling a bike pops into my mind and I suck in a breath. “Jesus Christ.”
“Just go with it, Jett.” She laughs. “Would I steer you wrong?”
“No, I guess not,” I grumble. When I was little, my mother used to say that the universe gets bored sometimes and likes to have a little fun at our expense which is why things happen to us when we’re least expecting it. She liked to say that in the end, things usually worked out the way they were supposed to but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a huge mess in the middle so it makes complete sense that I’m wildly attracted to a man I just met only moments after breaking off my engagement to a man I can’t remember. On second thought, maybe that’s all this is. My life has been upside down for the past week and it’s making me a little crazy. Of course.
“Is there something else?” Mercedes asks and I shake my head.
“No, I trust you.”
“Good.”
“All right, I’m turning my phone off for the night but I’ll text you with updates.”
“You’d better,” she replies. “I love you.”
“Love you, too. See you soon.”
We hang up and I suck in a breath before making my way back out to the truck. Sawyer glances up from behind the wheel as I step out and the butterflies in my belly take flight as I blow out a breath and slowly shake my head.
Get a grip, girl.
As I turn my phone off, I walk to the passenger side and slide my phone into my pocket before climbing inside. He arches a brow as he studies me.
“You good?”
I nod. “Yeah. I just had to call Mercedes and let her know I got here safe before we take off.”
“Actually, I was going to find a hotel room for the night. I started driving at three this morning and only got a quick nap in the truck before I came to get you.”
“Oh,” I reply, nodding. “Of course.”
“Do you have any preference?”
I stare at him for a second, my mind blank, before shaking my head. Even if I did have a preference, I have absolutely no clue what it would be. He nods.
“Okay, then.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket
and spends a few minutes on it before clipping it into the holder attached to the air vent.
“Looks like there’s a decent place on the way out of town and it’s next to another one of these.” He points to the diner and flashes me a wry grin. “I’m dying to try the best pancakes in Miami-Dade county after staring at this sign for the past hour.”
I nod, breathless. “It would be damn near criminal to leave Miami without putting their claim to the test.”
“Or you could just tell me if they live up to the hype,” he says as he backs the truck out of the parking space and pulls out onto the road.
“And rob you of the experience? I think not.” Truthfully, I have no idea how good or not the pancakes are because I can’t recall if I’ve ever even seen one of these diners but that’s not something I want him to know. I’ll admit that I briefly considered filling him in on my situation, especially after Mercedes’ “you can trust him with your life” comment but it’s nice that he doesn’t know. I can be around him and not put on an act or wonder who he expects me to be. It’s a breath of fresh air after a week of living someone else’s life.
He scoffs and peeks over at me. “Figures.”
Fighting back a smile, I sink into my seat and turn to stare out of the window as we drive through the streets of Miami. A little piece of me hopes the city will bring a memory back but as we ride to the hotel in silence, my mind is still as blank as the day I woke up in the hospital. When we reach the hotel, Sawyer parks in front of the office and leaves the truck running to run inside and get us a couple rooms while I power on my phone and send Mercedes a quick text to let her know we’re spending the night in a motel. As soon as I know the message was delivered, I turn my phone off again without waiting for her reply. Earlier today, before Gavin even got home from work, I turned off my location and spent hours online figuring out how to turn off the “Find my iPhone” app but I still don’t want to take any chances of Gavin finding me before I have a chance to figure some things out.