Love Undone

by Diana Nixon

  “Why would I want to get rid of this?” I asked myself, looking at a very beautiful China porcelain heart. I put it on my bedside table and reached for another piece.

  This time it was a photo frame, made of crystal seashells. The glass was broken and a part of the picture from the inside was torn. The other part showed me, with a man’s arm around my waist. Judging by the dreamy smile on my face, I was happy at the moment the picture was taken. Too bad it was ruined.

  I found an empty box and put the glass and what remained of the photo in it. I liked the frame, so I decided to keep it.

  My next encounter was a notebook with lots of small stickers inside. One of them said “Call the bakery”, the other one “Dress fitting day” and “Find a present.” It looked like I was getting ready for something really big. Was I helping Emily with her wedding preparations? I looked through a few more stickers, but now the words written there sounded like nonsense to me, so I put the notebook aside, hoping to read the rest of it later.

  “I remember this,” I mumbled, taking a masquerade mask out of the box. It was red, with feathers and crystals. I went to the mirror and tried the mask. The moment it touched my face, an image appeared in my head: me wearing the very same mask and a matching red ball gown with elbow length gloves.

  My breathing caught. I tried to dig deeper into the memory, but it was gone.

  Weird, I thought, still feeling an inexplicable worry brought on by the vision. I put the mask back into the box and tried to call Daniel. Unfortunately, his phone was out of coverage. I looked briefly at the mask again, making a mental note to ask Daniel about it later.

  The rest of the things I found in the box didn’t ring a bell, but I didn’t want to throw them away. So I closed the box, and put it with the rest of the unpacked things.

  When I thought it was time to call it a night, I changed into a long shirt, the only thing that I managed to put on with the bandages making my life so much harder, and went to bed.

  Surprisingly enough, the night was peaceful. I didn’t have any dreams, and woke up at about ten in the morning to the sound of a doorbell ringing.

  “Coming!” I shouted, yawning and making my way up the hall.

  “Morning. I’m looking for Ms. Benson,” the courier said.

  “That’s me.” I took a package from his hands and signed for the delivery.

  “Have a nice day,” he said.

  I closed the door and went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

  The package wasn’t big. I opened it and saw a stack of documents. There was an address written on the first page. It said Huntington place, 48. There was also a key inside the envelope that apparently opened the door to what was situated there. I looked through the rest of the pages, and realized that the documents described some property that, according to the attached contract, I was going to sell. I had no idea about the place mentioned there, so I thought I needed to contact the real estate agent whose number I found on a business card hidden in between the pages of the contract.

  I dialed the number and after a few rings a man’s voice said, “Hello?”

  “Hi. I need to talk to Mr. Broderick.”

  “Yes. That’s me.”

  “My name is Kassie Benson. Today I received a contract saying that I was, um, selling something. But the thing is that-”

  “Don’t worry, Ms. Benson. I know about the incident.”

  “Oh-”

  “You and I were supposed to sign the contract two weeks ago, but since you were in the hospital, I asked my assistant to send the papers to the address mentioned in one of the e-mails.”

  “What’s a Huntington place, 48? I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything about the deal we were supposed to make.”

  “It’s okay. We were talking about the house that used to belong to your brother, Mr. Adrian Benson.”

  “And I was going to sell it?” Why would I do that?

  “Yes. As far as I know, you were going to leave the country, so you asked me to put it up for sale, as well as the café that you inherited from your brother. But, I only managed to find a buyer for the house. Do you still want to sell the café?”

  Now, that was something I didn’t expect to hear.

  “I think I need some time to think about everything,” I said, staring blankly at the documents in my hands. “Can I call you back in a few days?”

  “Of course. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

  Chapter 3

  And so, my new day started with even more questions than I had yesterday. I was going to leave the country. Why? And why didn’t anyone tell me about my intentions to sell the café? Apparently, not even Leslie knew about that. I was sure she would mention something as big as finding a new owner to what looked like the most important part of my life.

  I took my cell phone and found Leslie’s number. “Hey, how are things going?”

  “Everything is fine. We have orders for the rest of the Christmas holidays. The cake for Mr. Steward, one of our regular customers, is ready. He wished you a speedy recovery.”

  “I don’t know what I would have done without you, Leslie. Thank you. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Have I ever told you about selling the café?”

  “What? You want to sell it?”

  “I don’t know, but according to the words of my real estate agent, I do.”

  “You’ve never told me anything about that. But, why would you want to sell it?”

  “I wish I knew. The agent also said I was going to leave the country.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Leslie said, “I know you wanted to take a few weeks off. You were planning to go on a tour around Italy. But, I didn’t know anything about the rest of your plans.”

  “Oh, well, at least that’s something. Thanks, Leslie. And please, don’t tell anyone about this conversation. Obviously, I’m not going to leave the States, any time soon.”

  “Don’t worry, Kassie. I won’t.”

  We said our good-byes and I hung up the phone, feeling even worse than before the call. Neither Daniel nor Emily mentioned my upcoming trip to Italy. But, if we were so close, I should have told them about my plans, shouldn’t I?

  There was one more person who could explain things. I rarely shared anything with my mom; my dad always said we spoke different languages. But, this time I hoped she would be able to help me figure things out.

  “Morning, Darling. How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Much better. At least I can walk and make coffee without anyone’s help.”

  “Good to hear that. What about your plans for the day?”

  “I have tons of unpacked things to deal with.”

  “Do you want me to come and help you?”

  “No, thanks. I know you are working.” My mom was a landscaper. “Besides, I can call Emily. She said she would gladly help me with anything.”

  “I see. How is her brother doing, by the way?”

  “Daniel’s fine. Working, I guess.”

  “So very him.”

  Something about mom’s intonation told me she wasn’t Daniel’s number one fan.

  “I thought you liked their family,” I said, hoping she would explain herself.

  “I do like them. It’s just a little surprising to see Daniel spending so much time with you. You two haven’t talked much recently.”

  “We haven’t? Why?”

  “You were too busy working, and so was he. At least that is what you told me.”

  “Apparently so,” I said thoughtfully. “I wanted to talk to you about something else. Do you know anything about my trip to Italy?”

  “It’s the first time I’ve heard about that, Dear. You never tell me anything! Are you going to Italy?”

  “Not anymore.” I knew it was pointless to ask mom any more questions. Obviously, I was the only person who knew whatever the hell was going on with my life.

  The rest of the morning I spent tr
ying to remember anything new. In other words, I simply wasted my time, dragging my hurt limbs from one corner of the apartment to another. Then, I had lunch and went back to my bedroom hoping to get rid of the eyesore boxes.

  “Damn it!” I muttered, dropping one of them to the floor. With one hand in a cast, it wasn’t easy to do things.

  I carried the box to the rest of my stuff, when something caught my eye. It was a letter, with Daniel’s name on the envelope. The moment I opened it, the doorbell rang again.

  “Hey,” Daniel said, standing at the threshold. God, did he always have to look so damn beautiful? His face was freshly shaved, which only made me want to run my palms over it.

  “I stopped by to see if you needed anything. How are you feeling?”

  “Not good,” I said, a little nervously. In fact, it wasn’t just the physical pain that was still driving me up the wall; I was depressed about everything, including my stupid reaction to Daniel.

  “Do you need more painkillers?”

  “No. I think I need someone to talk to.”

  “What happened?” he asked, following me into the kitchen.

  I opened the fridge and took out the ingredients for Chicken Lasagna. Cakes were not my only passion. I adored everything about cooking.

  Daniel chuckled, helping me put the ingredients on the table. “You always cook when something’s bothering you.”

  “I kind of figured that much when I made a salad and a plate of sandwiches in less than five minutes, even with one hand broken.” I smirked, recalling my eventful morning.

  “Do you need my help?” I knew Daniel was standing right behind me; I could feel his breath tickling my neck. It made my pulse accelerate, though I didn’t dare turn around and look at his face that, I was sure, was smiling now.

  “I think even with all my bones broken I would still be able to cook.”

  “No doubt.” He laughed, taking a piece of cheese from my hands. “Especially wearing an outfit like this,” he said in a low voice.

  I looked down at myself and cursed mentally. I was still wearing the shirt that I fell asleep in last night. It covered a good part of my body, but still not enough to feel comfortable under Daniel’s studying gaze.

  “So, tell me what happened?” he said.

  “Well, first I remembered something — a masquerade, where I was wearing a long red dress and a mask. Do you know anything about it?”

  No answer followed.

  “Daniel?” I turned around and saw him staring at me, terrified.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He turned away quickly. “I was trying to remember the mentioned masquerade, but I don’t think I was there with you. Can I have some water?”

  “Sure.” I nodded toward the water pitcher on the table.

  “So, what else did you remember?”

  “Nothing. That’s the problem,” I said irritably. “There was something very important I was going to do before the damn explosion. But, it looks like no one except for me knew about that. And now I have so many questions I can’t answer.”

  Daniel sighed and crossed the distance between us, pulling me into his embrace. “You need more time to get back to your normal life. Don’t rush things.”

  I moved a little so I could see his face and said, “Looks like cooking is the only thing that I still remember how to do properly.” Then, my eyes slipped to his lips and I thought that cooking wasn’t the only thing that I wanted to do now. Shoot…

  “What would you feel if all your memories were gone?” I asked, trying to ignore the excitement in my belly.

  “A relief,” he said without hesitation.

  It wasn’t exactly what I expected to hear. The moment he realized he said too much, his expression changed. He forced a smile and added, “I would stay locked in my apartment for the rest of my life, drinking and watching old movies.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You are not helping.”

  “I will gladly help you with whatever you need me for.”

  I took a step back, even though leaving Daniel’s embrace was the last thing I wanted to do now.

  “Actually, I have an idea. Why don’t you take me to Adrian’s?”

  Daniel froze, his eyes turned into two thunder clouds, as if I were asking him to take me to hell.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he snapped, not even trying to hide his anger. “You are not ready to go out. You can barely stand on your feet!”

  “It is just about my heath?”

  His voice softened a little. “Of course. I’m worried about you, Kas.”

  Emily always called me that, but every time Daniel did, it pleasantly warmed my heart.

  Now it was his turn to guess about the thoughts running through my head. “What made you smile?” he asked, curious.

  “It was your idea to start calling me Kas, wasn’t it?”

  “You didn’t like it, but I never missed my chances to tickle your nerves. After my sister and Adrian joined my team, you didn’t have a choice but to accept it.”

  The mere mention of Adrian made the pain in my heart get stronger. “I miss him a lot,” I said, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

  “I know. So do I.”

  I had the best brother ever. I could call him in the middle of the night just to say how excited I was about the new recipe I came up with. He never complained about the things I didn’t notice or forgot to do, because he knew that when I was working, the world around me didn’t exist.

  “You know what the funniest thing is?” Daniel said, smiling. “Even when it came to choosing between going on a date and staying at home to watch a movie with Adrian, you would choose to stay with him.”

  I smiled slightly. “Maybe that’s why I’m not dating anyone, now.”

  “The only date that you never missed was a date with an oven. I remember the day you came back from Paris after a year of practical training. You were so inspired and full of determination. You could talk about mixing sage and cream for hours. You always criticized the pizza that we ordered, not even knowing that one day you would make us try every recipe for it that you could find.”

  “I bet you guys hated me for that.”

  “No. Usually we couldn’t wait for you to come back home to cook something special. Adrian always said that you beat him at everything, including cooking.”

  “Looks like the four of us spent a lot of time together,” I said, thinking about my failed tour around Italy and the fact that no one knew about it.

  “Yeah, it was a good time.”

  An hour later, after I made Daniel try everything I managed to cook that morning, he left saying he had something urgent to deal with. Meanwhile, I decided to continue my fight with the unpacked stuff.

  I went back to my bedroom and opened the box labeled as ‘Important’. It turned out to be full of family pictures and cards. There was a picture of my parents that I immediately put on the fireplace in the living room, along with a picture of Adrian and me. According to the date printed on the reverse side, it was taken three years ago, on my twentieth birthday.

  I looked through the rest of the photos. There was no picture of Daniel, which seemed strange, considering that our families were so close. Sudden worry filled my heart, and I shivered at the thought that the story of our friendship could be fake. Could I still trust him?

  Later that day, I called Emily and invited her for dinner. Unlike Daniel, her company wasn’t associated with any mysteries or questions. She always looked sincere, and I never questioned her frowns or sad smiles. Or maybe I was simply imagining things when it came to her brother’s behavior?

  ***

  “So what’s the occasion?” Emily asked, looking skeptically at the amount of food I made for dinner.

  “I don’t know. Good mood?”

  “You sound like you are in a crap mood, but if you say it’s good-”

  I chuckled. “Well, I’m kind of disappointed.”

  “I hope it’s not about Da
niel, again.”

  “Why would I be disappointed in Daniel? And what do you mean by ‘again’.”

  “I know my brother. He can be a first-class jerk, and he’s a real expert in screwing things up.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I said, laughing. “But this time I’m disappointed in myself.”

  “Why so?” Emily asked, taking a sip of wine.

  “I hate being at sea, and I feel like I’m losing my mind, trying to get my memories back.”

  “Oh, Honey, stop torturing yourself. You will remember everything.”

  “I know, but my helplessness is killing me!”

  “What are friends for? Daniel and I will always be there to help you.”

  “I think I need to give myself a break and let the time do its magic.”

  “Sounds like a very good plan. Cheers!”

  We raised our glasses and let the party begin.

  Chapter 4

  “Can I ask you something?” I said, the amount of wine running through my veins unable to stop me from asking stupid questions.

  “Go ahead,” Emily replied, tasting my strawberry pie. It was a five-minute thing to make, so even with one arm in a cast, I managed to bake it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your engagement to Adrian?”

  The spoon froze half-way to Emily’s lips. “Did Daniel tell you about that?”

  “Yes. Well, not exactly. I had a dream about your engagement day. Daniel only explained that it wasn’t just a dream, but a memory.”

  Emily nodded absently. We both were smashed, so I wasn’t surprised to see tears rolling down her cheeks and a dreamy smile, playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “It was the best day of my life,” she said, closing her eyes. “It was supposed to be the beginning of something special; something I had been dreaming about for years. Adrian was my life. I loved everything about him: his voice, his smile, his sense of humor.” Emily emptied another glass of wine, and leaned back against the pillows on my couch.