The Memory Keeper: A Heartwarming, Feel-Good Romance(36)

“You’re leaving now?” she asked, not even trying to hide her confusion. “But your mother isn’t home yet, right?”

“Hannah…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to find the words for what he wanted to convey. “I can’t be what you need right now, and we have to stop before things go any further.”

“What?” Her mind was still clouded from sleep.

“I’m not… available,” he blurted.

She stared at him. Moments from their time together flashed through her mind as she tried to understand his abrupt change in mood. Then his mother’s voice—have you considered going to see someone?—rushed into her consciousness. As in counseling? Marriage counseling? Fear washed over her.

“Are you still married?” she asked before her mind could run too wild. Surely, he’d set her straight.

Not only did he not deny it, the hesitation and remorse on his face was enough to cause Hannah to stumble backwards. She leaned against the wall for support. After everything with Miles, Liam had moved in on her, letting her believe he cared, all the while knowing what she’d been through. How cruel could one person be?

Her face contorted with anger. She tried to keep her voice down so she wouldn’t wake up her parents, but she wanted to scream at him. How dare he lie to her?

This was not the boy she’d known. She stared into his eyes, questioning everything. An ache scratched at her insides, making her feel as if a cosmic force had just jumbled the puzzle pieces of her life and left them scattered on the floor.

“Hannah, I shouldn’t have… I’m so sorry.” He reached out to her, but she jerked away. “I needed to stop this before it got out of hand,” he said. “It already has…” He shook his head, wrestling with his thoughts.

“Yeah,” she said deadpan, her complete disgust with the situation making her unable to emote. “Just go.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said gently, but she ignored the pain on his face because he’d brought it all on himself.

When he walked out the front door, she didn’t even bother to watch him leave.



Hannah had put on clothes and brushed her teeth on autopilot, her mind in a fog. And now she sat at the kitchen table, crossing her arms over the new sweater she’d gotten for her birthday. While her mother made them a cup of coffee, she’d explained what had happened this morning with Liam, the disbelief of it still stinging.

A light knock at the back door in the kitchen stopped their conversation. Ethan stood on the other side of the glass, holding a box.

“Are those what I think they are?” Maura asked, getting up and opening the door. “Tell me you brought us freshly made cinnamon donuts,” she said.

“You know I don’t come over before noon empty handed,” Ethan said, setting the box on the table and opening it up, the buttery, sugary scent of fried dough wafting through the cold air around them and making Hannah’s tummy growl.

He plopped down in the chair next to Hannah. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked, reaching in, and pinching a tiny donut between his fingers. He had on the mechanic’s uniform from his dad’s body shop: a dark-gray button-up with the logo on a patch over the right side of his chest. His father, Ardy Wright, had worn that uniform for as long as she could remember. It was strange to see Ethan in it.

“You working with your dad today?” Hannah asked.

“Every day,” he said.

Hannah nodded and reached for a donut. The only time she’d ever seen Ethan get heated was when he talked to his dad about the future. Ethan was artistic, his creative genes making him appear to be all over the place, his attention span jumping from one idea to another. He didn’t sit still well, and he was always buzzing around, so tedious mechanic work wasn’t his strong suit—but when he was painting, he was the stillest and most focused she’d ever seen him.

His dad would tell him, “You can’t raise a family throwing paint on walls, son. You need to have an honest profession where you put in a full day’s work, every day. Some kids would die to have a father who’s willing to just hand over his business…”

“The shop is your life, Dad,” Ethan would argue. “Not mine.”

Ethan took another donut from the box then slid it toward the middle of the table. “You goin’ to see your gran today?” he asked Hannah.

Hannah nodded. “So explain to me exactly what’s wrong with Gran, Mama,” Hannah said with a deep breath, to steady herself for what her mother was going to tell her.

“Her heart isn’t working like it should,” her mother said, the sadness in her words causing her face to slacken, showing her age. Maura’s eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away, clearly trying to keep it together for Hannah’s benefit. She picked at her donut.

“By the time I got here, she was coughing terribly and had swelling in her legs.” Maura traced the rim of her coffee cup, faint lines forming around her lips as she pouted to keep in the emotion. “She was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. They’re monitoring her and running tests to see if they can do anything for her.”

Hannah covered her mouth as if that would keep the fear from escaping. “Oh my God,” she said through her fingers. Ethan put his arm around her shoulders protectively.