Julian shook her hand, staring into her eyes, and she continued to smile blandly at him. No flicker of recognition. “Hello. I’m Julian Hunter. I’m here from Boston for a medical conference, and I saw the sign for your exhibit last night.” He watched her face carefully as he spoke. Nothing.
“Well, I hope you enjoy the exhibit and your time in Philadelphia,” she said, turning away to greet someone else.
“Wait,” he said, touching her arm.
She turned around to him, frowning slightly. “Yes?”
“There’s something I’d like to show you. Would you mind if we moved to a quieter corner of the room for a moment?”
She cocked her head and gave him a quizzical look.
“Please. Just for a moment.”
They walked to the edge of the room, and Julian took the picture from his wallet and handed it to her. “Take a look at this,” he said.
She stared at the picture, her brows knitting as she held it up for a closer look. When she looked back at Julian, her eyes were clouded. “That’s me.” She glanced at the photograph again. “Who are you?”
He had to tread lightly. “Addison. That’s not your real name, is it?”
She took a small step back from him, and he saw fear in her eyes.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you.” He hoped his tone was reassuring. “You don’t remember anything about your past, do you?”
“Do you know me?” she asked, and Julian thought he saw a flicker of something like hope in her eyes.
“I do.” He looked past her to see the curly-haired man approaching.
“Everything all right here?” he asked, looking from Cassandra to Julian.
“This man knows me.” Cassandra’s voice shook. “He knows who I am. He has a picture of me. From before.”
“Let me see,” the man said, and Julian handed the picture to him. Then he brought out his phone and pulled up all the photos of Cassandra.
“Take a look at these, too,” he said, giving the phone to Cassandra.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, leaning against the wall as she scrolled through.
The man next to her stared at Julian. “Just who are you?” he asked.
“Her husband. I’m her husband.”
??27??
Addison
I lean against the wall as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. It is me, that much is obvious, but I don’t recognize the man or the child with me. Husband. The word reverberates in my mind. I try and connect to it, but there’s nothing. I look up at him, trying to place his face. His looks are the opposite of Gabriel’s. Thick blond hair, crystal-blue eyes, and a strong jawline. He’s handsome, almost too handsome. He looks like he might be in his late thirties or early forties, tall and slender and elegantly dressed. I glance at his hand and see the gold wedding band on his finger. Why can’t I remember him?
I look down at the phone again, my heart beating so loud I’m sure everyone can hear it. I stop scrolling when I get to a photo of a little girl. She’s beautiful. Long dark hair, alabaster skin, and emerald-green eyes. Eyes like mine. The memory of the little girl crying comes crashing back to me. I want Ellie. Was it her I was remembering?
I turn to the stranger who says he’s my husband. “Is this . . . is she . . .”
He smiles at me. “That’s Valentina. Our daughter. Do you remember her?”
I shake my head. “No. I was told I’ve never been pregnant.”
“That’s right, you haven’t. She’s your daughter, but we used a surrogate. I can explain more, but first, tell me. I’ve been looking for you for two years. What happened? Where did you go?”
Suddenly I feel dizzy. A surrogate? What is he talking about? I put a hand on Gabriel’s arm to steady myself. Blythe sweeps over and takes charge.
“Let’s take this in the back where we can have some privacy. Follow me, everyone.” She takes my arm, and I stumble along in a daze, just needing to get somewhere quiet and sit.
All of us go back to the private lounge area. I sink onto the sofa, hugging myself, my gaze fixed on the floor. While I scream inside my head, Blythe tells everyone to take a seat, brings over water, and gets everyone settled. Gabriel starts toward me, but I give him a look to telegraph to him that I need space. I’m about to find out who I really am, and I should be ecstatic, but I just feel numb. My eyes travel around the room, the faces blurring. A hand touches my shoulder, and I look up. Blythe.
“Darling, it’s okay. Take a minute. Breathe in through your nose.”