Suit (The Twin Duo #1)(17)

My eyes opened to darkness. Thick, navy-blue curtains kept the light from spilling into the room. First, I assessed the pain. Most of it was gone. At least the shooting pains in my hips and lower back had departed. My ribs and chest hurt a little, but not too terribly.

Pressure with my hand against the mattress helped me sit up as I blinked away blurriness in search of the nearest bathroom. The pain did become almost unbearable when I had to bend to reach my crutches. I wouldn’t be doing that again. I’d make sure they were propped close by, not on the floor.

I hobbled my way toward a door, opened it, and scanned the space.

What a beautiful bathroom, yet it did confuse me. Unfamiliar makeup, perfume, and Jewelry blanketed a magnificent vanity on one wall. A girl’s dream come true. The shower was big enough for five people, complete with a bench, situated right in the center and topped by multiple showerheads. I looked forward to that luxury.

I grimaced as I lowered myself to the toilet, careful with where my crutches were placed. The thong panties had gone unnoticed until I slid them over my hips, pulling the thin line from the crack of my ass. I didn’t feel like they were me. None of this felt like me. A deep inhalation and a glance up to the ceiling kept me from crying. In order to keep myself together and not lose it, I chose to think about something else. I had to. At least until I figured out what to do. This couldn’t be my life.

It took nearly five minutes for me to maneuver my panties up and over my hips to stand, but the pain subsided once I stood. It was the getting there that killed me.

I flushed the toilet and shuffled back to my room, the room that didn’t feel like mine, either. I would have never chose the dark blues with white. I liked light tones. Earthy colors like tans and greens.

My confusion rose higher when I opened the walk-in closet. Amazing. White shelves lined one wall, full of folded jeans, shoes, purses, and T-shirts. Beautiful dresses with an assortment of outfits hung neatly on the other side. I gawked at the few evening dresses, but mostly casuals, the sundresses, long-flowing maxi-dresses, and sandals—lots of sandals in all colors—filled the closet space. As soon as I flipped on the light, it all went away, everything in my closet. I couldn’t see anything but me.

Round white lights circled a full wall mirror. Like something you would see in a Hollywood dressing room. That’s not what had my attention. The ghost standing before me held that. I had a weak and broken appearance with hollow eyes, a lost soul with nowhere to go. I knew it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. I didn’t belong here. Some people live a life with a feeling of void, but I was the one who felt obsolete. I was the missing link, the broken one that didn’t fit anymore. Again, I reverted my attention to something else…just like my mother had always preached.

Wait. My mother? How did I know that?

I flipped off the light and pondered my sudden realization. That was real. That premonition had been real, but not clear. I knew that I had been taught not to ever feel bad, to focus on something else. Something happy. However, I couldn’t have been taught how to do that without a memory. My earliest memory consisted of a handful of nurses, most of them nameless. I hadn’t seen them enough to remember or cared enough to try learning their names. I hadn’t even been able to remember my own name in the hospital, for Christ’s sake.

My confusion continued when I opened the long chest of drawers. Everything was mine, nothing was his. Feminine bras with matching thongs were folded neatly in every color possible. Not much black. I felt like I gravitated more toward black. Wait? I did? Paxton was the void in the room. No male items existed here. Not one. Did we have separate rooms? Given the fact that Paxton was a pervert. That surprised me. Wow. We didn’t share a room, and that excited me. I had to admit that had been one of the fears on my mind when I’d had no other choice but to leave with him. I didn’t want to sleep in the same bed with him, but it was still weird. Not that the whole mess wasn’t weird or anything. I shrugged it off with a heavy sigh and tried to open the armoire doors. The double doors and all four drawers were locked.

“I have the key. I don’t think you’re ready for that just yet. Maybe later.”

My head snapped toward the door, toward Paxton. My husband. He leaned against the threshold, arms folded and ankles crossed. Basketball shorts covered long legs and he was in bare feet. The five o’clock shadow was gone, replaced with a clean shave and a nod. It had to be the looks. He definitely had that going for him.

“What’s in it?”

“You’ll see. They’re waiting. I can’t hold them off any longer.”

“Oh, okay,” I said in a high-pitched tone, suddenly even more anxious. I leaned on my crutches and prayed I didn’t screw it up, that I could fake this mom business without them noticing A long breath of air filled my lungs and I wondered whether or not I should pretend to remember them.

Paxton uncrossed his arms and waved them in.

My lips turned up before I ever saw them, and a fake smile was planted. As soon as I saw them it was gone, replaced with confusion. The younger one looked like a mini me, soft black hair, straight as a board except at the ends. They curled up, just like mine. Her eyes were tinted in the same smoky gray as mine. She had natural dark skin, and her legs were long, just like me. The height difference between the girls appeared miniscule. Not even an inch difference and I sensed without confirmation that the taller one was the youngest. She belonged to Paxton and me. I could see mostly me in Ophelia, but she did have his features, too. Rowan did not. She belonged to me, yet I wasn’t sure who else.