Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(70)

Charlie is reaching out to her contacts to see if she can dig anything up, and the guys at Cole Security are doing the same.

“I haven’t found anything yet.”

“You should rest,” I say, gathering the papers. “You had a rough day.”

She grabs the folder from me. “I’m fine. I need to do this.”

“You don’t . . . we have gone over it a dozen times. There’s nothing in here.”

“What if we missed something?”

“We didn’t.”

She stands and walks to the other side of the room. “You don’t think it’s Jax?”

“I don’t know what I think.”

“Why do you keep dismissing him? Why do you think he’s not the guy I was with? I saw how he looked at me. He and I were dating or he likes me. What has you so confused?” Brie asks with frustration coursing through her words.

The sheer volume of things I’m keeping from her is overwhelming. “I can’t answer that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Is there a difference?” I toss back.

“Can’t is very different.”

I step toward her, my own frustration rising. This isn’t easy. This is the worst goddamn thing I’ve been through. I gave my fucking heart to her, and she doesn’t remember me. I’ve had to watch her struggle with thinking she was with Henry, and now she thinks Jax is her fiancé? Jax, the fucking idiot who she wouldn’t even give five minutes to?

No. I am so fucking done.

I am desperate for her to just see the truth in front of her. I love her. I love her so much, and I am desperate for her. To have her, touch her, love her and yet, she still can’t come back to me.

My heart is pounding and I move closer. “I can’t, Brielle. I want to. I want to tell you everything. I want to lay the whole fucking truth out in front of you, but I can’t. This isn’t easy for any of us. No one is enjoying this. No one wants to keep secrets, but we were told, we literally can’t give you the truth. So, here I am, doing my best to keep my promise to you and also make sure I don’t fuck everything up. No matter what I said to Emmett, he was right to be pissed! I am going to blow this entire thing up, and then what? What happens when you hate me?”

Her gaze drops. “I am doing my best to understand this. I just . . . God, I know! I know what’s in my heart. You and Dr. Girardo said that once I can piece it together, I’ll see clearly. Well, I am seeing clearly. The killer is part of this. He’s part of my life and I think it has to do with my job. I remember people and things that matter.”

“Your heart tells you that you are in love with Jax?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know! I know that he’s important. It makes the most sense.”

It makes no fucking sense, and I can’t hold it in. “Why? Because he looked at you that must mean that you’re in love with him and he’s the killer? You are so desperate for it to be the man behind the ring that you are trying to find answers where there are none.”

“You don’t know that!”

“And neither do you! There is literally no proof that Jax is involved in your life in any way! All I want is for you to . . .” I stop myself. I was going to say it, and I can’t.

“What?”

Her big blue eyes are staring up at me, and I want to drop to my knees.

“Nothing.”

“No, what do you want? What are we even doing?”

I don’t say a word because I have nothing left. Explaining this won’t make sense to her. The two of us are fighting to win, but we’re not on the same field.

“You don’t wear jeans,” Brielle says quietly.

Is she having another episode?

“What?” I ask.

Her fingers touch her mouth and then drop. “You haven’t worn jeans a single time in the last month.”

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Jeans? What is she—fuck.

“I remembered us in my apartment, but we weren’t like this. We were wearing jeans, I had my hair in a ponytail, and I was wearing my coat. My winter coat. You took my hand, and we were laughing as you pulled me into the room. I swear it was . . . I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense because we aren’t a couple.”

She’s remembering when we decided we were a couple and not just fooling around. I remember it all, and so, I once again have to make her think it’s wrong because she doesn’t trust the memory. “The doctor told you that your memory could make a false narrative.”

“Have we ever had sex before last night?”

She’s asking me, and I hate every fucking second of this. “No.”

“Then why do I keep seeing you in my dreams? Why do I want you so much?”

“Because you have always had a crush on me.”

She steps back. “Of course. I think you’re right,” Brie says on a shaky breath.

“About?”

“That this has been a lot for one day. Can you take me home?”

It’s the last thing I want to do, but I nod.

“Okay. I just . . . can I use the bathroom?”

“Second door on the right,” I say.

She looks at me with tears pooling in her eyes, but she doesn’t let me see them drop. She turns and walks away, leaving me feeling worse than I ever have before.