Return Of the Fallen. Rita Vetere
and his well-muscled physique added to his aura of strength. At the moment, his face wore a lopsided grin and bore a hint of excitement. “What are you grinning about?”
“What, can’t a guy be happy?”
She considered his goofy smile. “You’re up to something. What’s going on?”
Edmond laughed and said no more.
As they traveled along the frozen streets, Justine thought about what a great guy she had. His rugged good looks aside, Edmond possessed a rare combination of qualities that had appealed to her right from the beginning. He was a man whose physical strength was tempered by a surprisingly gentle nature, someone who could be annoyingly confident at times and endearingly humble at others. She’d known him for six years, lived with him for the past two, and loved pretty much everything about him.
When they arrived home—a small two-story house not far from the city center—they hurried out of the car to get inside. As Edmond unlocked the front door, Justine’s skin grew suddenly warm despite the icy temperature, and a tingling sensation began at the back of her neck. Something did not feel right.
“Wait,” she said.
“What is it?”
She looked up at the darkened house. “I think somebody’s in there.”
Edmond shot her a quick look of surprise. “What are you talking about? There’s no one inside except JB.”
“No, really—”
He turned the key in the lock, opened the door and entered.
“Edmond, wait.”
He paid her no mind and walked through the foyer into the living room. She hurried inside after him. The lights went on.
“Surprise!”
Justine blinked in shock. Dozens of people, laughter, clinking glasses and happy conversation filled the room. She glanced around at the smiling faces of the couples surrounding them—their friends.
“Happy Birthday, baby.” Edmond gave her a wink. JB bounded at them, barking and jumping up to say hello.
“Et tu, JB? You were in on this?” She laughed and scratched him behind the ears.
They all moved to the dining room where Edmond opened champagne and poured drinks for everyone. Then he held up his glass to make a toast.
“To Justine. She’s amazing and lovely, stubborn and smart. But what she does best, my friends, is cheat...and steal.”
Some of the guests exchanged uncomfortable glances. The rest stopped smiling. Justine, who was seated at the head of the table, locked gazes with Edmond and grinned.
“First,” Edmond said, “she cheated death.”
The smiles returned to their friends’ faces.
Edmond moved to where she sat. “And then...she stole my heart.”
He leaned over her and delivered a sensual kiss that she felt all the way to her feet. When he reluctantly drew away, he said, “Happy sixth birthday, love.”
Laughter erupted amid cries of “Hear, hear.”
Edmond disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later, balancing a large, rectangular cake that bore six lit candles.
“Make a wish.” He placed the cake on the table in front of her.
Justine laughed, downed the rest of her champagne and blew out the candles in one breath.
Their friends gathered round the dining room table, chatting and filling their plates from the tempting buffet of salmon and wild rice, Mediterranean salad and roasted chicken and pork with vegetables. As she rose to join the others, the room suddenly felt hot and too small. The noise seemed to intensify and the faces surrounding her appeared distorted. Her cheeks burned and beads of perspiration formed on her forehead as a pounding headache erupted at her temples.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to Edmond. “I want to change my clothes.”
“You look a little pale. You okay?”
“Just a headache. I’ll take something before it gets worse.”
She climbed the stairs to their second floor bedroom, got out of her nurse’s uniform and into a pair of soft jeans and a cashmere sweater. In the bathroom, she grabbed a couple of headache tablets from the container in the medicine cabinet and swallowed them. Justine glanced at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Haunted eyes stared back at her. She brushed away the wayward tendrils of hair that clung to her face then ran cold water on a washcloth and pressed it to her temples, relieving some of the dull ache that had blossomed there.
For the zillionth time, she wondered how old she really was. She looked to be in her late twenties, but there was no way of knowing for sure. She had been born exactly six years ago today, entering the world as a grown woman, and fully dressed—on the night Edmond had found her, half-dead in a frozen alley.
The unsettling sensation washed over her again that the face staring back at her was nothing more than a mask, behind which a dark stranger lurked, waiting to come through.
Her hand automatically traveled to her forehead as she traced the strange scar just below her hairline. As far as scars went, it wasn’t so bad. But it had healed in the most unusual manner, forming a series of connected lines and curves—almost like a symbol. It was another enigma on her list of unexplained facts, none of which provided any clue as to who she had been before. All she knew for certain was, whatever had caused the peculiar scar had not only robbed her memory, but had damned well nearly killed her.
The doctors called it “retrograde amnesia.” No identification had been found on her, and no one had come forward to report her missing following her injury. The police had done all they could, and her own efforts to uncover her unremembered past had proven an exercise in futility.
Justine stared hard at her reflection, once again willing the stranger within to make herself known but, as always, her efforts to remember proved fruitless. A short time later, laughter drifted up to her from downstairs and she snapped out of her trance. Edmond would wonder what had happened to her. She adjusted a thick lock of hair so it covered the scar, and did her best to shake off her frustration at an unremembered past which had haunted her like a ghost for six years.
She had a good life and a terrific man with whom to share it. Whoever she had once been, the time had come to say goodbye to that woman once and for all. Turning away from the mirror, she headed downstairs to rejoin the party.
* * * *
Later that night, lying in bed next to Edmond, warm after their slow round of lovemaking despite the bitter cold outdoors, he placed his arm around her and kissed her softly.
“Justine?”
She looked at him, his features tinged silver in the moonlit room.“Hmm?”
“How did you know?”
“Know what, sweetie?”
“That there was someone in the house earlier tonight.”
She hesitated, wondering how to explain the warning signs her body had given off. “I don’t know... I just kind of felt it. Intuition, I guess.”
He smiled. “You’re a little weird, you know that?”
She felt his strong arms go around her and buried her face in his neck, breathing in his musky scent until she drifted to sleep.
* * * *
The following evening, Edmond dropped her back home after they shared dinner at their favorite local restaurant. She kissed him deeply before she exited the car in front of their house.
“Win big,” she said.
Some of Edmond’s friends at the insurance company where he worked had lined up their