Dying To Remember. Sara K. Parker

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      Her gaze darted around him and down a hallway with glass doors and gleaming wood.

      He touched her arm and warmth seeped through the wool of her coat.

      “Are you okay?”

      Ella drew a shaky breath and looked into eyes that had always been able to read her heart.

      “I don’t think so, Roman. I need your help.”

      His eyes narrowed and he gestured down the hall. “Let’s go to my office.”

      * * *

      Ella Camden was the last person Roman had expected to see when he’d heard the doorbell moments ago. A new client in need of help, maybe. Someone looking for work, likely. Ella, the woman he’d never stopped loving? Not even on his radar.

      Her boots tread quietly along the hallway behind him and he opened the door to his office, letting her pass through first. She’d cut her hair. Coppery brown barely peeked out below the light gray knit cap she wore. She kept her hands in the pockets of a black winter coat and didn’t meet his eyes as she entered.

      “What a view,” she said, moving to the floor-to-ceiling windows in his office.

      The dismal gray evening had grown darker, but the harbor beyond Roman’s office was lit up and bustling with Friday nightlife.

      “What you’ve built here is amazing, Roman,” Ella said, turning back toward the office and absently plucking a business card from the holder on his desk. She traced a thumb over the print, her gaze unreadable.

      She seemed genuinely impressed and Roman almost asked why she’d waited so long to come see it for herself. But this meeting wasn’t about them. “I had a lot of help,” he said instead, waiting for her to explain why she’d come.

      She was too skinny. Even with the bulky winter coat he could see that. Her eyes hadn’t changed, though, their soft green-gray pulling him into memories long tucked away. And better kept there, he reminded himself. He’d spent years burying those memories under a relentless workload that didn’t leave room for regret. But coming face-to-face with Ella brought it all screaming back.

      “Want to have a seat?” He moved to his chair, pushing aside his closed laptop. He’d just been packing up to head home when Ella had arrived. But he wasn’t in a rush. The only thing waiting for him at home was a fridge full of leftover takeout and his niece’s lop-eared bunny he’d gotten stuck babysitting.

      “Thanks.” She took the seat opposite his, tucking his business card into her purse. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

      Her eyes brimmed tears that she didn’t let fall.

      Roman’s heart constricted. Years ago, he would have pulled her into his arms, but they didn’t know each other anymore.

      “Here.” He stood and reached over to the bookcase for a box of tissues, passing them to her. “Why don’t I put on a pot of coffee? We’ll get you warmed up. Take your time.”

      She shook her head, accepting the box of tissues but not pulling one out. “No, I don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary.”

      “We can take as long as you need.”

      “That’s nice of you to say, but we both know it’s late on a Friday and you’re probably ready to get home,” Ella started. “It’s been all these years, and the first time I see you, I’m asking for help.”

      “How about you tell me what’s going on and we can decide that together?”

      She nodded, weariness in her expression. “I don’t really know where to start, but I think I’m being followed.”

      “By who?”

      “I wish I knew.” She tugged her cap more snugly over her ears. Why didn’t she take it off? She couldn’t still be cold. It was a thousand degrees in the office.

      Or maybe it was just him. Roman loosened his tie.

      “So, you’re here because you want me to find out?” he asked.

      She smiled half-heartedly. “It’s complicated.”

      Nervous. He’d never known her to be nervous.

      He waited.

      “My mom’s in the hospital,” she said finally. “In a coma.”

      “My dad told me,” Roman said. “Terrible accident. I’m so sorry, Ella. Is there any improvement?”

      Ella shook her head. “That’s why I came out here. I took a leave of absence from my clinic.”

      When she’d left to pursue veterinary school in Colorado, she’d had a singular mission: to finish school and then buy her own practice in the mountains. She’d obviously accomplished her goal. Roman had never doubted she would.

      “What about your sisters? Have they been able to help, too?”

      “Yes, but Bethany has three kids now, so time away is hard to come by. Holly was able to get leave for a few weeks, but she’s back overseas at least until May. Even if we could all be here more often, Graceway can’t function without my mom.”

      Two years after Ella’s dad had left the picture, her mother had single-handedly opened the women’s shelter. Even though she employed a substantial staff, she’d always been the one at the helm, making all the decisions.

      “How long have you been out here?”

      “About five weeks.” She leaned forward, eyes locked on his. “But I don’t remember all of it because three weeks ago, I wound up in the hospital with a...brain injury.”

      Roman straightened, his gaze catching on her knit cap.

      “I was shot. And everyone’s telling me I did it,” she said, the words rushing together.

      “You did what?”

      “Shot myself.”

      “Tried to commit suicide?” The words didn’t fit right in his mouth. Ella, suicidal?

      She nodded.

      “The thing is, I really don’t think I did.”

      “But others think you did?” he prodded. “Who?”

      “The police. The doctors. Even my family.”

      “You don’t remember the incident?”

      She shook her head. “I don’t remember anything about it. I don’t remember much about the weeks before, either. The doctors think my memories will come back over time.”

      “What did the police find?”

      “From what they could figure out, I was shot—or shot myself—sitting up in bed. The trajectory was off, so the bullet only grazed the side of my head. I fell СКАЧАТЬ