“Tell me about him. What happened?”
I laughed and cleared my throat, cleared the pain from the memories. My memories. Fisher didn’t have memories of us. “Bad timing. I was young. And I was trying to figure out some things in my life. He had things in his life figured out quite well. So …” I pulled in a shaky breath and shrugged. “It was just … bad timing.”
“Did he love you back?” Fisher wasn’t the same man. The old Fisher wouldn’t have asked me those questions.
“I think so.” I couldn’t look at him, so I fiddled with the hem to my shirt and kept my gaze on my lap.
“Do you know where he is now? Have you thought about finding him?”
More pain escaped my chest, disguised as laughter while I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yes, I’ve thought about finding him.”
“And?”
My head inched side to side as I continued to pinch the bridge of my nose. “And I’m not sure he’s ready to be found by me.”
“Why would you say that?”
My gaze lifted slowly to his. “Because he’s found someone else.” My lips fell into a frown as I lifted one shoulder like it was no big deal.
“Married?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Then he’s fair game.”
Barking a laugh, I glanced up at the ceiling again, gathering my hair in one hand and slowly releasing it as I made eye contact with him. “Fisher, you certainly have a liberal view of dating. You’re not married to Angie, but you’re dating her. So would you be okay with another guy making moves on her?”
Fisher shrugged, lips twisted. “If another guy made moves on her and she responded to his moves, then I think I’d have my answer about us.”
“What happened to fighting for what you want?”
“I think fighting for something when you have an actual chance is different than fighting for second place.”
“Stick to building houses, Fisher. I don’t think you have a future in couples counseling.”
“No?” He grinned. “I’m just saying, if you’re still interested in the guy, knock on his door and say, ‘Remember me?’ Then at least you’ll know.”
“And what if he doesn’t remember me?”
“Then he never loved you.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Well …” I scratched my chin. “That’s harsh and a little heartbreaking.”
“Life is harsh and heartbreaking.”
I giggled. “Who are you? Because this is not the Fisher Mann I knew. Did your head injury awaken some deep philosophical part of your brain?”
“No.” He stood and stretched his good arm above his head and his casted arm about half the way. His shirt lifted a few inches, revealing his abs.
My gaze stuck like sticky spider fingers, and when I tore it away, after he dropped his arms back to his side, Fisher was looking at me. I felt the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face. His expression was more unexpected. Not the cocky one I remembered. It was more of a curious expression like he was in disbelief that I had been staring at his exposed skin.
That familiar blush crawled up my neck.
“I should go,” I whispered, scrambling to my feet and brushing my hair away from my face.
“Thanks for the puzzles.” His grin held so much satisfaction, his eyes filled with that familiar look he’d given me so many times before.
“You’re welcome.”