our feet were affected. She had hers, covered in bandages, up on the edge of the coffee table.
“When I was younger, too young to drink,” she said, “my friend Louisa and I snuck some vodka into a party. I woke up in the bathroom of her parents’ house.” Her head shook. “Besides puking my guts, I couldn’t remember what had happened or how we’d gotten there. I hated the feeling and didn’t touch alcohol for years after that.”
“Even wine?” I asked with a smile.
“Well, it takes time to develop the taste for good wine.”
“I’ll take good wine over cheap vodka.”
Araneae laughed. “I never said it was cheap.”
“You were a teenager. It was probably cheap.”
Private school.
I shook my head, wondering where that thought had come from. “I’ve never blacked out from alcohol.” I said.
“Never? Even when you were young?”
“No. I was kind of boring.” Working to keep a roof over my head. I didn’t say that. “I didn’t need a bad personal experience to keep me on the straight and narrow.”
Araneae groaned as she leaned forward and lifted a glass of lemonade. “Oh, I wish I could take stronger painkillers.”
My temples throbbed as sunlight glistened on the lake surface below. Each deep breath reminded me of the ache in my ribs. “I won’t take them either.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Oh, Lorna, are you...?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not pregnant. I think we have enough pregnancy hormones in this tower for right now.”
Araneae ran her finger over the condensation of the glass. “May I ask you then why you won’t take the painkillers?” She looked over and grinned. “Because if I could I would with a wine chaser.”
I feigned a smile. “It’s no real secret. Mace and I grew up with an alcoholic, drug-addicted mother.” I shrugged. “And believe it or not, those weren’t her worst qualities. Anyway, I refused to follow in her footsteps even when I was younger.”
“I’m sorry.”
I waved my hand. “Don’t be. It’s old news. I haven’t seen her since before my high school graduation. It’s even longer for Mace.” I sighed. “I’m not sure why I brought her up.”
“I’m not pretending to know what that’s like,” Araneae said, “but I do get losing parents young. It...there’s a hole.”
“Your story is a lot happier.”
Her light brown eyes met mine. “Lorna, we’re both here, in our home, after God knows what happened. If you ask me, we both have happy endings.” She laid her hand over her baby bump. “With many more stories to come.”
Lorna
Later that night as I settled into bed next to my husband, I turned to Reid. “I wish you knew more about what happened to us.”
His deep voice overpowered the distant ringing within my ears. “Has anything come back? Do you remember anything else?”
I shook my head. “It feels like the information is close, yet I can’t find it.” I let out a long sigh. “You know, it’s like when you lose something, yet you’re sure it’s right there.”
Reid gently encouraged me to lay my head on his broad shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me. “I have you back.” He kissed my hair.
While he was gentle, I winced at the pressure on my tender scalp.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be.” I turned my gaze to his and as my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I took in his handsome features—his loving gaze, the flawlessness of his mahogany complexion, his high cheekbones, and his strong chin. I ran my finger over his lush lips, imagining them on mine or other more sensitive places. As my insides twisted, I said, “I’ll take your affection, no matter how much it hurts.”
Reid’s brows knitted together. “I never want you to hurt, not from me or anyone else. Whoever did this to you will pay. I promise, you’re safe and they’ll never hurt you again.”
Sighing, I settled into the crook of his strong arm. “I don’t care if they pay. I would like to know they can’t do this to anyone else.”
“I love you, Lorna. I didn’t need to lose you to know that.”
A smile crept across my face as I hugged his arm. “I love you too. I feel” —I searched for words— “...safe, secure, loved...” When our gazes met, I confessed, “When we’re together, I feel like I’m somebody.”
“You, Lorna Murray, are definitely somebody.”
I ran my fingers over his forearm, feeling the warmth of his dark skin under my fingertips and relishing in our familiar differences. The sounds of our breathing filled our bedroom. His breaths