My Almost Ex (The Greene Family #2) - Piper Rayne Page 0,1
though that would be the worst thing in the world.
I owe Lucy nothing. She’s the one who broke my heart. So she had an accident and lost her memory. That’s not my business, nor my problem anymore. At least I tell myself that as I wind through the crowd, catching up to Susan and Lucy on the cobblestone road outside the brewery. Susan has her arm around Lucy’s shoulders and they’re whispering as more people try to stop them to say hello.
“Lucy!” I yell.
All the hustle and bustle of the celebratory night before tourist season kicks off halts, leaving a deafening silence blanketing the square.
Lucy slowly turns. I slow my steps and narrow the distance.
Before I reach her, Susan steps between us, putting her hand out to stop me. “Please don’t, Adam. This doesn’t change what happened between the two of you. I’m sorry for interrupting your night, but this isn’t a good idea.”
Lucy wipes tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, and my jaw clenches at seeing her upset even if I wish it didn’t. I lean to the side to get around Susan, but she steps in front of me again.
“She’s my wife,” I say.
Susan gives me a look to say we both know she’s not.
“You can’t expect me to not react to this news,” I grind out.
Lucy’s lip quivers as she takes a deep breath. And other than practically the entire town bearing witness as Susan stands between us, it’s like déjà vu of the night Lucy walked out on me. Her struggling not to cry and me trying to reach her to understand what the hell is going on.
“Please. I only brought her back to Sunrise Bay on her doctor’s suggestion to see if she would remember anything.”
“Susan.” My dad’s deep voice comes from behind us. His large hand clasps me on the shoulder.
“Hank.” The distaste Susan has for our family is clear as fucking crystal in her voice. She never liked me for her daughter, so there’s no real surprise she’s trying to keep me from her now.
“Let’s find somewhere quiet and talk this out,” Dad suggests. “We can head to the house—”
Susan raises her hand. “I’m taking Lucy back to Idaho tomorrow. I already apologized to Adam for disturbing your night.”
“But—” I start.
My dad steps closer to Susan. “You cannot just expect Adam to go back to his life after this discovery. There are questions he needs the answers to.”
I nod as though I’m that nineteen-year-old standing next to him again while he’s on the phone with Susan and Lloyd Davis telling them to let Lucy and I marry.
“With all due respect, it wasn’t your daughter who came running to you in tears a year ago. Obviously there’s a reason their marriage didn’t work out. If I was a lesser person, I’d say I told you so, Hank Greene.”
“When was her accident?” I ask.
Susan shakes her head as though she’s not going to entertain my questions.
“A little over three months ago,” Lucy says. “First time ever on a horse, or so I’m told, and I got bucked off.”
“Let the kids talk,” my dad pleads with Susan.
She runs her hand over her face and inhales deeply. Glancing back, she looks at Lucy, then she steps closer to us, lowering her voice. “We were planning on staying in Anchorage, but I’ll head over to Mandi’s and get a room there for the night, assuming one is available. Lucy’s really upset right now. I never expected her to have a breakthrough so fast, and it took us both by surprise. All the other memories she’s gained have come in bits and pieces, slowly over days. Come by tomorrow morning and we’ll talk once she’s calmed down.”
She can’t be serious, but as I step to go around her again, my dad’s hand lands on my arm to stop me.
“That’s a good plan,” Dad says.
I huff because I want to do this now.
“Let’s say nine,” Susan says, and my dad agrees. She turns around to join Lucy.
I clasp Susan’s arm. “When you say breakthrough…?”
She pats Lucy’s hand and Lucy’s tears fall down her cheeks again.
“She didn’t remember you until she saw you.”
My dad sighs and I’m pretty sure my heart stops for a moment. I tried to strip Lucy out of my mind this past year. To erase her from my memory because it all hurt too much. But I can’t imagine not remembering our history and all the good memories we shared. At the