out of the dark days of depression after Carter’s disappearance.
“Go back to whatever it is you two lovebirds were doing,” Brianne said, injecting humor into her voice. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Take care, sis. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Brianne said.
Brianne ended the call and sat in the dark room, her thoughts once again going back to Carter. More specifically, to the day she had learned from Alex that Carter hadn’t come off of the mountain.
Never in her life had she gone through a more emotionally wrenching time. For a twenty-four-year-old, deeply in love and losing the man she adored—it had been too much to bear.
Of course, she’d been devastated. But she’d been most upset with the searchers and the authorities and everyone who had been willing to write Carter off as dead. Determined to prove them all wrong, she had booked a ticket to head to British Columbia and search the mountain herself if necessary. Her sister had gone with her for support. But while in Canada, Brianne had realized how utterly helpless she was to effect any change. The amount of snow was unbelievable, and she—a woman who couldn’t stand a day of camping in decent weather—was never going to be able to find Carter when the search team couldn’t.
Once the search had been called off and she’d returned home, Brianne had gone into a depression. She had stayed in bed, not eating, not drinking. But her family had been there for her, bringing her plates of food and hot tea. Brianne refused it all until she could no longer starve herself. Then she’d fed her turbulent emotions with food. Within six months, she’d put on the thirty pounds she had spent the year and a half with Carter working off.
She knew how she got when it came to her emotions—unable to truly control them and helpless to assuage herself. It was the reason that going to Florida was such a daunting idea for her. If her hopes were once again deflated…
“Sleep on it,” Brianne said softly to herself. “And pray on it. When you wake up, you’ll know what to do.”
She settled in her bed with the rough draft of the novel her sister had just finished. Brianne always read Shayna’s books to give her input before she submitted them to her editor. But despite her sister’s compelling writing, Brianne simply couldn’t lose herself in the fictional historical world.
I think you were right all along. I think Carter’s alive.
Instead of concentrating on the words her sister had written, Brianne kept hearing Alex’s words. Kept seeing the serious look on his face. And something suddenly struck her about the visit, something that she hadn’t picked up on before.
Alex had relayed the news about Carter likely being alive, but he hadn’t seemed happy. He hadn’t seemed excited about the idea of reconnecting with his best friend.
The realization made her feel better. Because she herself wasn’t jumping up and down for joy—something she’d always expected she would do if she’d ever learned that Carter was alive.
Maybe it was all just too surreal to truly accept, given that three years had passed. And they really didn’t know for sure. What point was there in getting all excited, only to learn that this was all a mistake?
Of course both she and Alex were guarded. It only made sense that they keep an emotional guard up until they learned the truth.
“Lord, help me deal with this,” Brianne whispered. “If Carter’s alive, help me truly deal with all of what’s to come.”
You could want something so badly, yet when it happened you were unprepared for it.
Brianne lowered the manuscript pages. That was also it, she realized. Not just the uncertainty of not knowing if Alex was right about having seen Carter, but the reality that she was unprepared for the unexpected news Alex had delivered—no matter how much she had wished for it. In the early months or even after the first year, had Alex told her that he suspected Carter was alive, she would have been elated. Now, with the amount of time that had passed, there was so much to consider in the event that Carter had somehow escaped death. Because she was not foolish enough to believe that she was just going to pick up the pieces with him and everything would easily go back to the way it was.
She looked at her bedside phone, then at the card Alex had given her that rested on the table beside the phone. She wanted to call Alex now, to confide in him her fears. To talk candidly about the ambiguity she was feeling. She sensed that Alex would tell her that he had his own reservations about how all of this would play out.
Of course, it was different for him. He had been Carter’s friend. That was different than being a lover. He could easily pick up and continue as Carter’s friend in a way she wasn’t sure she would be able to easily continue on as the special woman in his life.
She picked up the card, stared at the phone number. And then she lifted the receiver.
But just as quickly she returned the receiver to its cradle. What was she going to say to him? Ask him all the same questions she had asked him earlier?
There was a part of her that simply wanted to hear his voice, to know that today hadn’t been a dream. But it was after nine. She didn’t want to disturb Alex.
After all, what if he weren’t alone?
An odd twinge came with the thought. In all the time she’d known him, she hadn’t known him to have a serious girlfriend. Carter had said that Alex was the consummate playboy. Gorgeous. Rich. He could have his pick of women, and, from what Carter had said, tended to like models.
Brianne was the exact opposite of his type. She was five-foot-five and voluptuous, with curves she had to work to keep in a nice proportion. Not tall and thin.
Not that it mattered. Why was she even thinking about that?
What mattered now was not getting Alex’s hopes up until she made a decision. When she called him, it would be to tell him whether or not she had decided to accompany him to Florida.
If you think going to Florida will help, then go. But if it’s going to be more painful than anything, then I think you shouldn’t do it.
Remembering Shayna’s words gave Brianne a sense of comfort. Her sister was right. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do—especially if it was painful.
And Brianne didn’t know if she could handle seeing Carter if he didn’t remember her.
Worse, she didn’t know if she could handle seeing him if he were involved with someone else.
The next morning, Brianne’s ambiguity over what to do made her angry with herself. She had been sitting at her desk, researching possible causes for temporary amnesia via the internet, and now pushed her chair back and stood. Why was she afraid to deal with a challenging situation? She had been ready to walk down the aisle with Carter, and in her vows she would have promised to be there for her husband in good times and bad. Sure, they hadn’t actually gotten married—because fate had intervened. What would she have done if she’d been married to Carter and then he’d disappeared? Bailed on him when he needed help?
Brianne made her way downstairs. She needed coffee. If Carter is alive, how can I not go to him? she asked herself as she descended the steps. No matter how hard it might be, how can I not help him get back to his former self?
Brianne set the Irish cream-flavored coffee to brew, then went back to her bedroom. There she reached for a stuffed teddy bear on her dresser, one she’d had from childhood. She held the bear close to her chest, drawing comfort from her childhood toy. Carter had always teased her for still having a teddy bear she turned to for comfort, but old habits die hard.
Her heart rate accelerated. Was it possible that Carter truly was alive?
The thought was overwhelming. And she needed to talk to someone about it. There was one only one person who understood what she was going through because he himself had experienced it—and