“Shane doesn’t know I lost my memory.”
I narrowed my eyes before returning a small nod. I wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell him, but I figured it didn’t matter.
As I opened the door, he grabbed my wrist, and I turned back toward him. A slightly pained expression stole his beautiful smile. “You. I’ve told you about my memory. That’s it. No one else.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I didn’t tell Angie. And I didn’t tell my family. Not Rory or Rose. Not anyone at work. Just you.”
Still a little confused, I added another nod. He wanted to tell them, so he didn't want me saying anything.
“I’m not going to tell them. You know. And you’re the only one who ever needs to know. Except my doctor. I’ll tell my doctor.”
“W-why?” I shook my head.
“I know I hurt Angie. And when I told my family, they were hurt too.”
That answered another one of my questions. He told his family.
But did he tell them about me?
“But it would have been worse for everyone had they known I made the decision knowing how I felt about her before the accident. I think it’s easier for them to believe that I can’t marry her or that I’ve fallen in love with someone else because I simply can’t recall my feelings. They are all so sure that I would marry Angie tomorrow if I only remembered. So that’s the deal. I don’t want them to know. I’m not going to tell them. And I don’t want you telling anyone either. Not even Rory and Rose. Can you do that?”
I didn’t know. That was a big ask on his part.
Fisher pressed his lips together and canted his head. “Need I remind you that you kept a big secret from me … because you thought it was for the best?”
“And look how that turned out.”
He grabbed the collar to my jacket and brought his lips to mine without touching them. “I am looking at how that turned out.”
He won. Fisher always won.
“When will I see you again?” I changed the subject, realizing that I’d lost.
“Shane’s on East Coast time, so he goes to bed by ten. What kind of cookies are you going to bring me? You know I have a thing for your cookies … your muffins … your whole damn bakery.”
I matched his grin. He remembered that conversation.
“Now you’re just flexing.”
He barked a laugh and released my jacket. “Not yet. I’ll do that for you later … after I eat your cookie. Maybe bring extra frosting. I have an idea.”
“So you have time to eat my cookie, but I can’t ask you any more questions for two weeks?”
“Exactly.”
Grumbling in the naked fisherman style, I headed out the door to walk home.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Spill,” Rory said the second I walked into the house.
“Spill what?” I unzipped my jacket.
“You were over at Fisher’s. We drove by there.”
“Oh that…” I hung my coat in the closet and padded my way into the kitchen to wash my hands and start helping with the cookies “…yeah, we’re back together.” I could not have been more coy.
“What? How? Who? WHAT?” Rory tossed me a hand towel as she and Rose cornered me.
My coyness quickly vanished. “Yes!” I fisted my hands at my chest and squealed. “I texted him, basically for closure. And he texted me back this weird, vague response that just … ugh … ate at me. So I drove over there. Some stranger answered his door. Turns out, it’s his best friend from high school who’s staying with him for the next two weeks. That was awkward, so I went to leave and Fisher …” Then it hit me.