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Their Christmas Miracle
By the end the week, she knew enough of her life story to believe Thomas even if she still didn’t remember a thing. Problem was, being trapped in that nebulous knowing-not-knowing zone was worse than not knowing anything at all. Facts and figures answered her questions, but they couldn’t provide the assurance her gut needed to fully commit.
Except, that was, for Maddie. Every time she saw a photo of the little girl, her heart swelled with longing. Maybe because she hated to see such an adorable creature going without a mother. The reason why, however, didn’t matter. If she went back to London with Thomas, it would be to give that little girl her mother back.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said to Chris and Jessica one night after the dinner rush. “How do I go back and be some man’s wife when I can’t remember him?”
The two of them hadn’t talked again since that night. Having agreed to give her space, Thomas limited his contact to the emails accompanying his daily document delivery. While the notes were friendly and upbeat, often filled with anecdotes relating to that day’s documents, she could read between the lines his eagerness to have her home. Especially when he included the words “We miss you” in the text.
“Who says you have to?” Jessica replied. “Just because you know your name and identity doesn’t mean you have to immediately rush back and start living your former life. You wouldn’t rush a baby into walking, would you?”
“No.” Sighing, she rested her forehead against the heels of her palms. “If only I could remember him. Reading those papers is like reading a book about someone else. I know facts and dates, but I don’t feel real. Does that make sense?”
“You need to give yourself time, sweetheart.” Jessica reached across the table and clasped Rosalind’s hand between her two pudgy ones. For a woman who spent her days working in a kitchen, her skin was soft as silk—Collier’s lavender skin cream. Thomas was everywhere, Rosalind thought. “Eventually, your heart will remember.”
“And if it doesn’t?” What if she never remembered Thomas Collier beyond his soulful eyes and commanding presence?
“Who says you have to stay with him? You start a new life with your little girl,” Jessica replied. “I know you won’t have to worry about your feelings for her.”
Rosalind blushed. She was already in love with the girl from her photos and, at the end of the day, was the best reason for returning to London. “She deserves to have her mother home.”
But Jessica’s argument stuck with her. The older woman was right. There was no reason Rosalind had to stay with Thomas if she couldn’t remember him.
That gave her an idea.
“What do you mean, a ‘trial visit’?”
It was a few nights later and they were walking in the village center, Thomas having shown up unannounced for a visit. Since the restaurant wasn’t busy Chris gave her the evening off so they could talk. It was, Rosalind figured, as good a time as any to share her plan.
Needless to say Thomas hadn’t embraced the idea with enthusiasm.
“I mean exactly what it sounds like,” she replied. “I’ll come to London.”
“You mean home. You’ll come home.”
Rosalind sighed. “No, I mean London. This village is the only home I remember. Surely you can’t expect me to slide back into my old life simply because you’ve sent me a few emails full of facts and dates?”
The way he turned away said that was exactly what he expected. Which led to other questions as to what else he expected.
In keeping with the season, the trees on the common had been wrapped in strands of blue and white lights. A patriotic illuminated forest with branches that danced and sparkled in the wind. It was romantic, magical and no doubt the reason why Rosalind was acutely aware of Thomas’s shoulder moving beside her.
She looked sideways at his silhouette. He wore the same expensive clothes as before and exuded the same command and self-possession, while she wore flannel and boots. Night and day. Top and bottom. Hard to imagine them ever fitting together. They had though. She’d seen the marriage certificate that proved it.
“What about Maddie?” Thomas asked after a moment.
“Maddie is the reason I’m willing to go back at all.” Wouldn’t matter if Rosalind had a zillion doubts, the notion of that child going another day thinking she’d died was intolerable. “She needs her mother.”
“You don’t think I need you?”
“You’re not a little girl.” On the contrary, there was nothing little about him. “And, there’s no guarantee you and I will be able to reconnect. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. I’d feel better going in if I knew I had the freedom to...”
“Leave.”
“Yes. I mean, no. I wouldn’t leave Maddie.”
“Just me.”
Did he have to say the words in such a flat voice? It left a guilty knot in her stomach. “The plan sounded much better in my head.” Certainly less callous. She needed to remember that as far as he was concerned, she was the woman he loved. “I don’t mean to imply that I’m not going to try. I’m just...”
“Scared.” The softness in his voice allowed the word to wash over her with relief.
“Terrified,” she replied. Trading the known for the unknown? Who wouldn’t be? “I have no idea what I’m jumping into.”
“So you want an end date in case things don’t work out.”
“More like a potential end date. A point where both of us can step back and reassess. You’ve got to admit it’s not your run-of-the-mill situation.”
“No, it definitely is not.”
Rosalind let out a breath. He understood. This was the only way she could think of to maintain some control.
“How long do you envision this trial visit of yours lasting?”
“Over Christmas and New Year at least,” she said. “I don’t want to do anything until after the New Year. Giving Maddie a happy Christmas is my first priority.”
“Mine too.”
“Then we’re agreed. We’ll spend the next few weeks focused on our daughter and Christmas and see where things stand in January.”
“That gives us three weeks.” It was clear he didn’t like the idea. To his credit, however, he didn’t argue. Their daughter’s Christmas clearly was a priority.
“Twenty-one days,” she replied. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll remember everything as soon as I walk through the front door, and this whole conversation will be moot.” Stranger things had happened, right?
“Have you remembered anything?”
She shook her head. “No. Not really. A few of the photos felt familiar, but I think that was more wishful thinking. I’m sorry.”
The ground crunched beneath their feet. “You have nothing to apologize for, Rosalind.”
But she felt like she did. She felt terrible that she couldn’t remember her family and even more terrible that she wasn’t bouncing with excitement over having found her way home.
“It’s not like I don’t want to remember. I do.” Ever since he’d appeared in the restaurant, she’d been praying for the floodgates to open and erase the blankness. The only response she’d received was her heart pounding with anxiety.
“I believe you, and I’ll try not to push.”
“Thank you.” The tension in her shoulders started to ease.
“But...”
And, tensed right back up again. Stopping beneath a large blue branch, she turned to look him straight on. Her heart was starting to race. “But what?”
“I won’t push about your memory, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and win you over. You should know that between now and Christmas, I plan on charming the socks off you. You’ll be too enamored by me to even think of leaving.”
“Is that so?” She crossed her arms and did her best to sound unimpressed. Difficult since his cocksure attitude actually was impressive. And charming.
“Oh, most definitely, Mrs Collier.” He upped the charm by saying the moniker with a silky-smooth lilt. “Most definitely. In fact...”
His blue eyes bore into her. Out of the corner of her eye, Rosalind saw him raise his hand making her think he planned to reach out and touch her. She held her breath.
He kept his distance. His stare didn’t waver. “In fact,” he repeated, “I’m going to start tonight.”
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