He hadn’t left his condo in the past four days, from the moment he arrived home with Christa’s wedding rings clutched tightly in his fist. They still sat on the coffee table in front of him. Taunting him like every other thought and memory that riddled his mind. He refused to answer his phone. Lance had come by, but Aaron refused to open the door. When a knock at his door drew his attention, he was tempted to ignore it again. After a quick glance through the peephole, he recognized the courier uniform and opened the door.
“Mr. Rivers?”
“That’s me.”
“Just need your signature for the package right here.” The courier gave Aaron the small stylus to sign his name on the handheld device.
“Who is it from?”
“Affairs of the Heart Wedding Chapel of Las Vegas.”
Aaron’s brow furrowed as he took the package and absently thanked the delivery man. He moved back to his chair, tore the strip off the top of the package, and dumped the contents out on the coffee table. His heart thundered in his chest as he stared, captivated by the images spread out in front of him.
The image of Christa in a simple but elegant wedding dress, her face beaming with happiness, stared back at him. But what held his attention was the instantly recognizable expression of love on his own face. He stood beside her, in a white tuxedo with tails, with his arms wrapped around her waist. While she looked at the camera and smiled, his eyes were on her.
In the next photo, she stood in front of him with his arms wrapped around her from behind. He was leaned over, his chin resting on her shoulder and their faces cheek-to-cheek. The radiant smiles on their faces were impossible to miss—they were blissfully happy.
He surrendered to an overwhelming urge to speak to someone who could shed light on the time leading up to his departure from San Francisco. With his cell phone in hand, he quickly found the pilot’s number and hit Call before he lost his nerve.
“Mr. Rivers. What can I do for you?”
“Todd, this will sound strange, but I need to ask you a few questions about our last trip.”
“Your Vegas wedding trip. Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“This is confidential, but I’m having some…health problems…neurological, to be exact. Can you walk me through everything you remember from the time I arranged the flight until we landed back home? I’m trying to pinpoint what could’ve been the catalyst.”
“Sure. I hope you’re okay. Let’s see. You called me Tuesday evening and scheduled the private jet for first thing Friday morning. You were very specific about the time to leave because you’d already secured dinner and show reservations. We left on time, the car service was waiting at the private strip to take you to your suite. I didn’t see you again until you and your party boarded the plane Sunday evening and we flew home.”
“Did I seem odd or different to you? In any way? The smallest change may help me identify important details.”
“The only difference, honestly, is you finally looked and acted happy, Aaron. I’ve never seen you so thrilled before. You were going on and on about a new business venture you and your new wife were going to start together.”
“Did I tell you how I planned to propose to her? Or anything about the ceremony?”
“You told me all about it,” Todd confirmed. “Tuesday night when you scheduled the flight. You’d already arranged for Bellasara’s to open after hours for just you two because you wanted it to be fairy-tale special for Christa. With how you two tried to refuse to use separate seat belts for takeoff on the return trip, I didn’t even question if everything went as you’d planned. It was obviously even better.”
“Thanks, Todd. I appreciate your time.”
“No problem. So, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
“Tomorrow? For—what?”
“Lance called earlier and said you have to be in San Diego for a meeting first thing Monday morning. Sounds like it was very fortunate the meeting was pushed back a week, especially since you haven’t been well over the past few days. But it evidently puts the kibosh on your upcoming two-week honeymoon trip, though. I guess that’s why Lance originally wanted you to head down Friday morning instead, so you’ll have some relaxation time first. Will Christa be joining you?”
“Uh, no, not this time,” Aaron hedged. What two-week honeymoon trip?
“That’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, so am I. Let me talk to Lance about a possible change of plans, and I’ll get back with you later.”
“Sure. Just let me know when you’re sure of the arrangements, and I’ll file the flight plan.” Aaron finished his conversation with Todd, every nerve in his body firing instantaneously with anxious energy.
Aaron rifled through the other contents of the package and found a video, no doubt documentation of their nuptials. Unable to resist, he put the movie in and watched with rapt attention. He was there of his own volition. The camera zoomed in on him as he recited his vows. He repeated the words exactly as the official instructed, then added his own twist.
“With this ring, I’m not only giving you all my love, but every part of me. Mind. Body. Heart. Making you fall in love with me all over again every single day will become my life’s ambition. If the day ever comes when you give these rings back to me, I’ll know you’re throwing my love away, tossing us aside. I’d never be able to love anyone again after that. Hold on to us no matter what the future throws at us. Our love, our marriage, and our life together are all that matter. Never give up on me, Christa, and I’ll make you the happiest woman who ever lived.”
“The words Christa said to me in Lance’s office.” He felt an invisible sledgehammer slam into his chest.
Watching himself on the video of his Vegas wedding but having no recollection of a single moment troubled him beyond belief. Not remembering a single word, not knowing how he’d managed to function throughout the entire ceremony bothered him on a deep-seated level. But having no recollection of their wedding night nearly broke him.
When the camera panned out, his gaze left Christa’s face long enough to realize his best friend Logan was standing beside him during the ceremony.
He fired off a text to Logan next.
Aaron: Need you to come to my place. Urgent. Hurry your ass up.
Logan: Get your panties out of a wad. On my way.
Twenty minutes later, Logan walked in and went straight to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and made himself at home.
“So. How’s the happy couple? How long do you think the honeymoon phase will last?”
“I don’t remember any of what happened last week. How we got there. How we got married. How she moved in with me.”
“Yeah, right.” Logan guffawed at Aaron and took a long draw from the longneck bottle.
“I’m serious.” Aaron looked up at Logan, concern etched on his features. “What happened? I don’t remember any of it.”
“What was the last thing you remember?” Logan moved to sit on the couch across from Aaron when he realized his friend wasn’t kidding.
“I woke early Monday morning and felt like I had the worst hangover headache I’ve ever had. When I sat up, I realized Christa was in bed with me, which was unusual. Then I got up and saw her clothes in my closet. Her empty suitcases sat at the foot of my bed. There was a wedding band on my finger, and even in the fading moonlight, I could see the ring on her finger.
“I called Lance, freaked out because I had no idea what was going on. He said he’d warned me about her. That she knew who I was. She knew about my money, my company, and she’d found a way to get around signing a prenup. He was convinced she’d drugged me and reminded me of what an idiot I was for falling for her innocent act.”
“What did you do, Aaron?” Logan’s tone held both concern and a hint of warning. “I know your brother and how ruthless he is. What did the two of you do to Christa?”
“Lance drew up the divorce settlement papers to buy her off while I played it cool. Tol
d her we had to go by the office first thing, but I didn’t tell her why. We presented her with an offer to take money and just walk away. Not push for a bigger settlement.”
Logan dragged his hands over his face and blew out a disgusted huff. “You blindsided her and turned Lance loose on her? Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“I feel like I have. What happened? Did anything odd happen to me? Why can’t I remember anything?”
“Give me a second to catch up here, man. Christa didn’t drug you. She didn’t force you into marriage. She didn’t trick you into it. You were the one who wanted to get married. You kept pushing it—she tried to get you to wait, to include your brother, not to make rash moves that would further strain your relationship. She married you because she loved you.”
Logan pushed up off the couch and began pacing across the room. “You were pissed off about the two weeks in San Diego deal. You told us on the plane how you didn’t want to be an agent anymore. You wanted to sell your part of the company and start something new. Man, Aaron, I’ve never seen you as happy as you were with Christa last weekend.”
“Think, Logan. Did anything at all happen? Anything?”
“No. Noth—wait. Yes. We were wearing the slick-bottom tuxedo shoes and messing around. While we waited for the girls to come out, we ran and slid up and down the hall. Your feet went completely out from under you one time, and you fell, hit your head on the concrete floor. It took you a few seconds to get up, but you were laughing and rubbing the back of your head. You said you were fine.”
“Maybe I wasn’t. I need to get in to see my doctor right away.”
“What did Christa say about the divorce settlement?”
“She gave the wedding rings back to me and refused to take anything from me.”
“Christa gave you the wedding rings back? I don’t believe it.”
“She said I told her if she ever gave them back, it meant she was giving back my love. Then she said she wasn’t giving them back, but I was taking them away from her. I watched it on the DVD before you got here. I don’t remember a word of it, Logan.”
“You were adamant about that when you took her to Bellasara’s, Aaron. Those rings were the bonds between you two, and once the bond was broken, it couldn’t be remade. You said there would be hard days ahead, but she had to hold on to the promise you made her that night.”
“Logan, you have no idea how bad this fucking sucks. Not to remember any of it. To know I’ve fucked things up so badly I may not be able to fix it. Ever. First I have to figure out what’s wrong with me. Why I can’t remember any of it. If hitting my head had anything to do with it.”
“Yeah, you do. Then you’d better figure out a way to get your wife back.”
* * *
Aaron sat in the waiting room of his doctor’s office, filling out forms and impatiently anticipating speaking with the doctor. His leg jumped with nervous energy, and his eyes darted around the room, searching for something to hold his attention. When he heard voices outside the door, his senses went on high alert. The doorknob turned, and the doctor stopped midway through the door to speak to someone in the hall. Aaron briefly considered jerking the doctor into the room and slamming the door shut.
He needed answers. Immediately.
“So, what’s going on with you today?” The doctor was cordial and professional, so Aaron tempered the aggravation consuming him while he explained his issue, what had happened over the weekend, and how he needed to know what he could be facing.
“Do you remember anything about hitting your head? Did you lose consciousness at all?”
“I really don’t know about losing consciousness because I don’t remember any of it.”
“Okay. We need to get some pictures of your head first. We can rule out a few conditions first and let it point us in the right direction.”
An hour later, Aaron was lying on the CT table while the machine circled around his head. Although he was concerned about his health, the dread settling in his gut over Christa felt like a lead weight.
Have I just made the worst mistake of my life?
When the scan finished, the technician told him to wait in the room until the doctor reviewed the results. A few minutes later, the technician brought the phone to him.
“Aaron, don’t be overly alarmed. You’re not dying. But I need you to come back to my office and let’s talk about the results and next steps.”
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
When he walked back into the medical building, the nurse escorted him directly back to the doctor’s private office.
“Have a seat. Dr. Batton will be with you in a few minutes.”
No sooner had the nurse left than Dr. Batton walked in. “Aaron, I just spoke with the radiologist about your scans. I’m piecing together what you’ve told me with what he saw on the CT, but it seems you had a slight concussion after hitting your head. I believe you had a post-traumatic seizure at some point over the weekend that impaired your memory. The amount of alcohol you consumed on top of that most likely dulled any effects you would’ve felt.”
“Will my memory ever come back?”
“Since the concussion was minor, I’d like to think your memory will return fully. Most symptoms and injuries to the brain are unfortunately a ‘wait and see’ type of diagnosis. You’ll need to take it easy over the next couple of weeks. Avoid too much stress, too much stimulation. Give your body time to fully heal, and your memories could return. It may be a little at a time, it may be all at once. Or it may be not at all.”
No stress. No stimulation. For two weeks? Yeah. That’ll happen.
Aaron slid behind the wheel of his Jaguar and used the solitude of his car to collect his thoughts. “I’m stressed just thinking about going back to the office, over every single thing that’s happened with Christa. I don’t fucking want to go to San Diego.”
Resigned to the unavoidable waiting argument with Lance, he drove to their office building on autopilot, barely remembering the trip once he’d arrived. The last time he’d been there was with Christa, dropping the surprise divorce bomb on her. So many aspects of that trip were the same. Ty was at his guard station. Employees hustled around him with determined strides, the next big meeting waiting in the wings.
Yet nothing felt the same.
No Stress, No Excitement
“You are going, and that’s the end of the conversation,” Lance bellowed, his voice carrying through the closed door and across the rows of cubicles. Heads turned and eyes widened, but no one appeared overly surprised at his outburst.
“I just left the doctor’s office. He gave strict instructions—no stress, no excitement. Rest for two weeks.”
Lance stopped and, for once in as long as Aaron could remember, real concern for his little brother covered his expression. “What else did he say? That little whore drugged you, didn’t she?”
“No, Lance, she didn’t, and don’t talk about her like that. I fell and hit my head with no help from her. Logan was with me when I did it. The doctor thinks I had a post-traumatic seizure from the concussion late Sunday night, and that impaired my memory. Lay off her already. She didn’t do anything wrong—I did.”
“You sure as hell did. Now all of this is documented in your medical history. It could cast doubt over whether you knowingly entered the marriage.” The anger and disappointment in his eyes were back, wordlessly berating Aaron’s stupidity.
“Are you kidding me right now? My memory from the past week or so is gone, but you’re only worried about what she could use against me in court?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you meant. This conversation is over. I’m done. I’m not going to San Diego. I’m not meeting with the new client. I’m not wasting my time finding the perfect models. If it’s so important to you, then go do it yourself.” He strode the door, and Lance stopped him just before his hand touched the knob.
“Aaron, I’m sorry. Of course I’m worri
ed about you. Your health, the business you’ve helped build, and your future. You’re my younger brother. I’m just trying to look out for you.”
“I don’t need another father. You’re my brother and business partner. Act like it.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, okay? I haven’t even had a chance to tell you I’m going on this trip with you. You’ve been stressed, and I thought you could use some R&R at the beach. A warm, sunny location. We can be two brothers simply having a little fun instead of working nonstop for a change.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch. I’ll handle all the contract negotiations, and you handle finding the perfect faces and bodies for the campaigns.”
“This isn’t like you at all. You’re not a nice person. You’re never supportive. Why now?”
“Because I’ve been a dick, and I realize it.”
“Huh. You talked to Mom. Told her everything. She crawled up your ass, so you’re acting like the good son again.”
“No. I just calmed down and acknowledged your well-being is more important than anything else. This trip is a chance for us to be brothers.”
“I’m not staying two weeks, Lance. I’ll find the talent, and then I’m leaving.”
Lance nodded without giving a verbal agreement, but that was fine with Aaron. When Aaron was nowhere to be found, Lance would realize he’d meant exactly what he said. Aaron’s sense of obligation to his brother and their company wouldn’t allow him to leave Lance in the lurch at the last minute. But he vowed that trip would be the last time he put the company ahead of his own needs.
“As good as you are at your job, it’ll probably be no more than a long weekend away.” Lance slapped him on the back and smiled encouragingly.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”
Lance chuckled and dropped his eyes to the floor. “If you have to ask that, I guess I’ve been a real dick to you.”
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