Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Painfully perfect curves.
Tattoos sprinkled over smooth, pale, flesh.
Dazzling absinthe green eyes.
Those eyes.
My heart thunders, radiating pain throughout my chest, threatening to explode. My blood goes ice cold, then searing hot. “What did you…?”
Utterly silent, she finally stops just two feet in front of me and stares up into my eyes. Her chest moves up and down with each breath. The skeleton key hangs on its chain at the top of her cleavage.
I want to rip it from her neck. Demand she give it back.
It’s ours. Mine and Ember’s.
“Asher…” she says softly, reaching for my hand.
Recoiling from her touch, I back away, still reeling with confusion and denial.
Her voice is undeniably Ember’s, but it’s not her face. Not her recent body.
It’s not her.
But it is.
“What the fuck did you do?” I yell, slamming my fist into the credenza next to me. The wood top cracks and splinters, cutting into my hand.
She jumps back, tears springing from her eyes.
“Ash,” she sobs. “Let me—”
“What did you do?” I seethe, my breath coming in heaves. Then I’m roaring. “What the hell did you do?”
Ember’s gone.
She took my wife’s face away from me.
Holy fuck.
Cautiously, she edges closer and talks to me like I’m a wild animal in a corner. “Asher… I know it’s a shock, but just let me explain. Please.”
I stare at her, trying to reconcile the familiar voice with the unfamiliar face. An image of me tearing this new face off of her, bringing back her real face, flashes through my mind, and the thought immediately sickens me.
I’d never hurt her. That’s not me. Or us. But…this isn’t her.
This can’t be happening. This has got to be a nightmare.
“This is me,” she says tearfully. “This is how I see myself. I read the journals. I always hated my nose. I wanted it fixed but was afraid it would change my voice. I always wanted dark hair—you loved it this way too—but Kenzi liked my hair blonde like hers when she was young.” She talks faster, desperate to get it all out. “I wanted more tattoos, but I was afraid of needles. I’m not anymore. This is me. The new me. I worked my ass off to gain weight and muscle, to not look sick, to cover up the scars, so you’d see me. So I’d see me.
“Not the past, not the things that hurt you. Not the comatose me. I’m stronger physically and mentally. These parts of me were always there, Asher. I know that you know that. I love myself now. And I love you.” She sucks in a deep breath. “But I need you to love me. The woman standing in front of you now. The woman your wife has grown into. I don’t know how else we can move forward. I can’t live with her ghost between us.”
I’ve been sucked into a tornado of mental confusion. Gram would call me confuzzled if she could see me now. I hear Ember’s words, but they’re bouncing around in my head in a jumble of incoherency like someone threw a Scrabble board into my brain. I can’t process this stranger in front of me, speaking in my wife’s voice, talking like she’s my wife, about my wife.
What the fuck?
“How the hell could you do this?”
“I—”
“You had no fucking right to do this,” I growl, pacing the small foyer, my confusion morphing into rage and blame. “Behind my back…without even talking to me. This is why you hid yourself from me. Why you talked me into the tour. It all makes sense now, doesn’t it? You wanted me out of the way.” I jab my finger at her. “So you could do this.”
Her eyes widen. Beautiful green eyes that could only belong to Ember. “It’s my face! My body. My life. I needed to do this for myself. You would’ve talked me out of it.”
I glare at her, seeing red. “You’re damn right I would’ve.” Devastation and bewilderment continue to build up in me, and I feel nauseated from it all. “You took the last part of her I had left.”
Her chin quivers. “You’ve said it yourself, Ash. There is no her. There’s just me! I’m right in front of you!” She smacks her fists into my chest. “Wake up! I may have forgotten my life, but I’m not dead! I’m just different. As much as I want to remember my past, I don’t have a choice. I have to move forward. And I like who I am right now!”
“I gotta get outta here,” I rasp, putting my hand up in front of her and shaking my head—hoping to get this imposter who’s tricked me and taken my wife—out of my vision.
It doesn’t work. The beautiful girl with the strange face is still staring at me, pleading with eyes I’ve never been able to resist. But this time, I’m going to. “I need to get the hell away from you. You’ve completely destroyed me. I don’t know who the fuck you are anymore.”