Tell Me a Truth (The Story Series Book 5)

BOOK: Tell Me a Truth (The Story Series Book 5)
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Tell Me a Truth
The Story Series: Episode Five
Tell Me a Truth
The Story Series: Episode Five
Tamara Lush
Edited by
Jami Nord, Chimera Editing
Copy Editor
Rebecca A Weston
Cover
Hang Le

C
opyright
© 2016 by Tamara Lush

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief excerpts in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

T
o the city of Orlando
, a place where love prevails.

Chapter 1


C
aleb’s been found
,” Colin repeated, his breath heavy with the tang of whiskey. His words intoxicated me, made my knees buckle. Had he not gripped my shoulders, I would have crumpled to the floor.

“Dead or alive?”

When he didn’t answer right away, I repeated my words, shrieked them, and Colin spoke over me.

“Alive. Alive!” Colin shook me again, and when he released me, I stumbled and caught the island counter to steady myself. My husband was coming back.

To
me
.

Alive
.

Charlotte wailed even louder, and I felt a visceral need to hold her close, to inhale the smell of her baby shampoo because it might be the only thing that could calm my pounding heart.

“Where? How? What happened?” I hoisted Charlotte out of her high chair and spoke in staccato while crossing the living room and sinking onto the sofa. I tried to soothe her cries by rubbing her back, but I was sobbing just as hard. We were both slobbering messes. I fought the urge to laugh and scream and throw up all at once. A fresh cry bloomed in my chest, and then I exhaled, tears and more tears flowing down my face.

Alive
.

Colin paced. “It’s the most incredible fucking story. I can’t believe it, Emma.”

“Where is he now? When is he coming home?” My voice bordered on shrill. “Please sit down. You’re making me tense. Is he hurt?”

Colin kept pacing, ratcheting up my anxiety. “He was found in a small town in the Brazilian jungle. It was kind of a…uh, hospital. He’d been in another medical center in the town for months, and then they moved him to this other facility.”

I shook my head, incredulous. “Kind of a hospital? What? So he’s hurt? What happened to him?”

Colin stopped moving. “He’s not physically hurt, not anymore.”

Just then, the elevator bell dinged and Sarah and Laura poured into the room. Fresh tears flowed, and Laura wrapped her arms around Colin. She turned to hug me, her blue eyes bright and her voice a touch too loud. “Daddy and Mom are on their way to Brazil to get Caleb. If everything goes well, they’ll be here in seventy-two hours.”

Wordlessly, I passed Charlotte to her. I lifted my legs so my heels dug into the sofa and wrapped my arms around my knees, curling into a ball. I rocked back and forth. Months of pent-up anxiety dissolved and tears washed over me because our nightmare was almost over.

Alive.

He was coming home to our daughter and
me
.

I
t took
fifteen long minutes to stop sobbing, and another half-hour to settle Charlotte into her crib. There were so many questions, but I wanted to ask them without a bawling baby in the background. I also wasn’t sure what to ask first, my shock was so great.

Colin and Laura fielded phone calls from Brazilian authorities, reporters, and executives in their company, so the penthouse burbled with nervous activity. I fidgeted and paced in the kitchen.

Then, calm reigned.

I took a deep breath and faced Sarah, Laura, and Colin. A thought clung to my brain. “So if he was found a few hours ago, why hasn’t he called? Is he in a hotel now? Or does the facility have a phone, or can he call from the police department there? Something? Is there a number?”

Laura cleared her throat. I watched Colin’s Adam’s apple bob a few times.

“What?” I demanded. Now I was pacing the room while they all sat on the console sofa. Sarah looked at her sneakers. Laura scrubbed her face with her hands. My chest constricted. They knew something I didn’t.

Laura sat up straighter. “Emma, Caleb was actually found two days ago.”

I stopped pacing, a fresh shock of anxiety surging through me. “What?”

“We only got confirmation that it was him earlier today, though,” Laura followed up quickly.

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. So why hasn’t he called? Give me his number. I need to talk to him.” I reached for my phone, which was on the coffee table. Why the hell hadn’t he called me?

“There’s a little more to the story,” Colin murmured.

“So tell me. For Christ’s sake, Colin, explain what’s going on with my husband.” I hissed this in a yell-whisper, so I wouldn’t wake Charlotte, and stood before them with arms folded. I’d been without Caleb for nine excruciating months and I couldn’t stand one more hour apart now I knew he was alive.

“And why are your parents going to Brazil and not me? Why didn’t you tell me earlier so we could book the same flight?”

Laura inhaled, and her eyes flitted back and forth. “There’s still a lot of blanks that need to be filled in.”

“Explain everything to me and we’ll fill in the damned blanks later,” I demanded.

Colin rose and moved around the coffee table, clamping a hand on my elbow and steering me into the office. “I’ll talk to her.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me,” I spat at Sarah on my way out.

She looked at me mournfully. “I just found out, too.”

What the hell?

I yanked my arm out of Colin’s grasp as we walked into the office. “Don’t touch me. Ever again,” I whispered, suddenly enraged by his presence and his spicy cologne. The fact that we’d gotten naked together and practically had sex now filled me with a ball of shame. Now that my husband was alive.

But I couldn’t think about that. Colin was inconsequential. The only thing that mattered was Caleb. Once in the office, I plunked on the sofa and folded my arms tight against my chest. “Spill. Now.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Okay…”

I raised my eyebrows, waiting. “What? Tell me. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

Colin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Caleb has amnesia. From what the doctor at the facility said, the malaria medication he was taking before the trip made him have a major, dissociative psychotic break. He left the building opening party that night and wandered off. At some point, he took a bus to a small village in Brazil. We don’t know why.”

“Oh my God.” I paused, letting this sink in. Of all the scenarios I’d conjured, this wasn’t among them. I looked at Colin and pressed a hand to my chest. Nothing was making sense. “Didn’t the people in the village realize that his family and authorities might be looking for him? This isn’t logical.”

“I know. It’s not. A lot doesn’t make sense. But the village is several hours from São Paulo. It’s tiny. In the Amazon, for God’s sakes. And he lost his wallet, his phone, and had no idea who he was. He ended up in a village hospital where he stayed, unidentified, for months. He was first in a fugue state, like a coma, for several weeks. He had a broken arm and a fractured ankle, and the doctors thought a car might have hit him. Then, when he came to and was more lucid, he remembered nothing of his past. Zero.”

“Jesus.” I started to weep. My beautiful husband, hurt and alone. Exactly what I’d feared. I buried my face in my hands, my heart cracking from the pain. And the fact that I hadn’t been able to help.

Colin continued. “He spoke only Portuguese, and you know how fluent he is. So they didn’t think he was American. They thought he was from Portugal or some other part of Brazil.”

Lifting my head, I pushed out a breath. “So Caleb’s been living at a hospital, not remembering who he was?”

“Sort of. Eventually, some of his memory slowly came back. That was about two months ago. The hospital had moved him to a halfway house. Or maybe it was more like a mental hospital. I’m not exactly sure, at this point. The details are fuzzy. Apparently he played a lot of soccer with local kids while he was in recovery. Christ, I can’t imagine what he went through.” Colin turned to the wet bar in the corner and uncorked a snifter. He poured himself a large glass of whiskey.

What?
Soccer?
My eyes darted around the room. I started to feel dissociated from my body; the explanation was so untethered from reality.

“I’d like one, too. No ice,” I pleaded. He poured and shook as he handed the glass to me. I trembled as I accepted. “If he got some of his memory back, why didn’t he call me? Couldn’t he use the phone? I don’t understand.”

I quickly swallowed a mouthful of whiskey as Colin stared into his glass. “So, eventually, Caleb was able to tell the doctors his name. At first they didn’t believe him, and apparently there were rolling blackouts in the town so Internet was spotty. But then they finally did some checking and called São Paulo authorities. They traveled there earlier this week, but didn’t tell us because they didn’t think it could be plausible. But it was.”

I finished my drink in two more gulps. “Okay, but this doesn’t explain why he hasn’t called us.”

“Well, there’s more, Emma.”

I gaped at Colin, open-mouthed. More?

“Apparently all of Caleb’s memory has returned, except for the, ah, last few…” His voice trailed off.

“Last few what? Days? Months? We’ll get him help.” I swept my hand in the air in a dismissive gesture as Colin finished his drink.

“Years,” he whispered grimly, pouring himself another whiskey from the wet bar.

“Years?” I opened my eyes wide with disbelief. “Years?”

“Yes. Years. He doesn’t remember the last four or so years.”

“Four?” I asked dumbly. “You mean, he doesn’t remember
me
?”

Colin shook his head. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Instead, I sat, holding my empty whiskey glass half in the air.

“He doesn’t know he’s married? He doesn’t know he’s a father?”

Colin set his drink on the desk and pressed the heels of his hands tight into his red-rimmed eyes. When he looked up, I was still glaring at him. Of course it wasn’t Colin’s fault that this had happened. Nor was it my husband’s fault. My stomach twisted even tighter.

Colin turned toward the window and the glittering lights of Orlando. In the distance, the Disney fireworks exploded in the sky, bursts of red and blue and green. So many questions swirled in my mind and my heart was pounding like crazy.

Slamming my glass on the wood coffee table, I stood and flew to Colin, grabbing his shoulder to spin him around. “Look at me, dammit. My husband doesn’t remember me? What the hell?”

“No, Emma, he doesn’t. Hospital officials showed him the news articles about you and he swore he didn’t know you. That’s why the doctors initially had a difficult time identifying him and were confused. He’d grown a beard and didn’t look like the photos and swore up and down that he didn’t have a wife when he saw your photo.”

Colin’s expression softened, and I could tell he was upset by how he blinked repeatedly. “The doctor said that maybe, in time, he will remember you. It’s not clear how the malaria medicine causes amnesia or why it erases some memories and not others. He’s done a remarkable job of gaining most of his memories back. When I talked to him—”

“You
talked
to him? What the fuck?” I didn’t care if Charlotte woke up from my shriek or if everyone in the entire condo high-rise heard. I was livid. My earlier unsteadiness had morphed into a focused, raw rage.

Colin shrank back. “Earlier today.”

“Unbelievable. What did he say?” I half-pleaded, half-spat. “Did he ask about me?”

Colin shook his head. “No. He didn’t. And we weren’t sure how to tell you this. That’s why we waited. He, ah…he thinks that Tara’s been dead for a couple of years and that he went to Brazil on business. That’s all. He knows he’s been in a facility and is still a bit confused. He’s back in São Paulo now, at a hotel with the private investigator. He’s thankful Mom and Dad are going to get him and he’s eager to get home.”

“Why didn’t he ask whether the newspaper reports about his wife were true? And no one’s told him about me?”

Colin shook his head. “I don’t know why he didn’t ask. Probably because he doesn’t remember. We haven’t said anything about you. We just want to get him home first.”

“So that’s why he hasn’t called
me
.” My voice was thick. “That’s why he hasn’t asked about me. He doesn’t know I exist.”

Again Colin was silent, and I fought a desire to shake him. Or slap him. I drew in several breaths. I could handle this. I could handle this. The King family was closing ranks around Caleb. Which was natural. No matter how much they loved me, I was an outsider. Caleb was alive, and that’s all that mattered.

After everything I’d been through,
could
I handle this? Christ if I knew. “The important thing is that he’s alive. That he’s coming home. We’ll deal with the rest when he gets here. Surely he’ll remember me when he sees me, right?”

Colin stared at me, a stricken expression on his face. “I don’t know, Emma. I don’t know. The doctors aren’t sure if he’ll regain all of his memory or not.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth, my eyes scanning Caleb’s now-messy office. I’d have to clean before he returned or he’d be annoyed. The whiskey felt sour in my stomach, and it was possible I was about to vomit. Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths through my nose.

Of course my husband would recognize me. He had to. We were soul mates. You didn’t forget your soul mate because of some pills.

Right?

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I kept my voice low but knew Colin detected the edge in my tone.

“We weren’t sure how. You’ve been so depressed. We didn’t want to …” His voice trailed off and he sighed.

I nodded, still seething, still reeling. And yet, hope mingled with anger. Caleb was coming home.

To me.

That’s all that mattered.

Colin sank onto the leather sofa. His brow creased with worry lines. “Emma, I wanted to say something else before he comes home.”

Jesus. How much more could I take? I winced. “What?”

“Let’s keep what happened between us as our little secret, okay? Don’t tell Caleb. Don’t burden him anymore. I mean, it might not matter if he doesn’t, ah, remem…whatever. Don’t tell him, okay?”

I narrowed my gaze. “You know, I’d be pissed at you for saying that, but the fact you helped me so much when I was pregnant…well, that meant everything to me. You and Laura and Sarah kept me sane and alive. So, thank you.”

He nodded, pursing his lips.

“But, Colin?”

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