~LYDIA
The shock on Morgana's face as the slap resounded in the room sent a thrill down my spine.
Joey's sharp intake of breathe was as loud as a gong in the silent room. Morgana narrowed her eyes at me, the imprint of my hand visible on her cheek.
"You slapped me." Her words weren't a question. They were an affirmation. I said nothing, only held her gaze.
"You laid your hand on me, Lydia," she went on, and there was a blandness to her voice, to the way she was staring at me, that wanted to scare me.
But I wasn't moved.
Whatever it was she was going to do, I was ready for it. Let her bring it on.
"You deserved it, Morgana. For being callous and greedy, for trying to take what doesn't belong to you, you deserve it," I eventually responded.
She nodded once, and a small smile graced her lips.
"I see. That makes sense, I guess. But Lydia, darling, you have just made a terrible, terrible mistake. You shouldn't have walked in through that door at all, sweetie," she said casually.
I could not help the snort that escaped through my lips.
"Oh please. Your threats don't work on me anymore. So please, you can go abroad and drop the bravado act. Just leave. You're not wanted here. I am sure there's a naive, stupid guy out there waiting for you to sink your claws into his life. But not my husband. He is out of bounds. I am done letting you mess with my head," I spat at her, letting all the anger in my blood seep into my words.
She nodded again.
"Okay."
Then she turned to face Joey.
"Is that what you want too?" she asked my husband. Joey stood up straight and stared at her with a cold gaze.
"I already asked you to leave, Morgana. Leave. And don't you dare think of doing something else."
Sidelined and cornered, Morgana shook her head at my husband and I.
"Very well. I will leave. Thank you for being great sources of entertainment," she said as she curtsied. Then without saying one more word, Morgana stepped past me, walked past my husband and the strange man I have no idea who he was, and closed the door on her way out.
I heaved a sigh of relief, and my legs immediately went out on me.
Joey rushed to hold me up, and I let him lead me to the empty couch.
My husband bent down and gently took my hands in his.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly. I yanked my hands away from his grip and gave him a side eye.
"I am still mad at you, Joey. Leave me alone," I quipped.
Before he could say anything though, I turned to face the man who had just taken the seat beside me.
"Hi, I'm Lydia. I don't think we've met."
Joey stood up and cleared his throat.
"Oh. That's actually my best friend, Rowan. You used to know him. You guys were such good friends," he stated.
My brows furrowed into a slight frown as I turned back to face my husband.
"I didn't ask you to speak, Joey. Let this man speak for himself. And I am still mad at you. Ever heard of the silent treatment? That's what you're going to experience starting from this moment. So please, shut up," I snapped again, and he promptly shut his lips this time.
The man named Rowan chuckled. Then he held out his hand to shake mine.
"Hello, Lydia. It's so nice to see you again. Permit me to reintroduce myself. I am Rowan. Your husband's best friend," he stated calmly.
"Nice to meet you. You have no idea how nice it is to meet and finally interact with someone that's not my husband and a greedy home wrecker," I groaned with exasperation at my own words, and Rowan laughed.
"Fair enough, I guess. Now that you know me though, perhaps not as much as you used to, we can hang out together. Have fun," he suggested.
My husband edged closer to us, but neither of us paid him any attention.
I beamed at Rowan.
"That would be terrific. I would love that so much. Maybe talking to you will even speed up my memory recovery process," I said.
And my husband decided that it was time to butt in.
"Now wait a minute, love. You need to know that you don't have to rush through anything. Your memory will return. Just give it time," Joey said.
I rolled my eyes at him.
"Yeah sure. That will not stop me from having fun though. I was honestly getting tired of staying inside all the time."
Rowan and Joey exchanged surprised glances at my words.
"What?" I asked, looking at the both of them. Rowan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and Joey cleared his throat.
"Did I say something wrong?" I asked again.
Joey shrugged. "No, not really. It's just that...you have never ever gotten tired of staying at home. You loved and even preferred to be home alone without having any company. I had to force you to socialise, and throw parties occasionally," he explained.
I frowned. That seemed weird. I loved going on. I loved discovering new places.
And as it was whenever the subject of who I used to be came up, I felt strange.
I was not that person. The woman Joey kept describing, the woman I used to be according to my husband...that wasn't me.
Rowan reached over to pat my hand.
"You don't have to think too much about it, Lyd. Really. You might be open to doing new things now and that is not a crime whatsoever. Right, Joey?"
My husband nodded.
"Right. Yeah."
I knew they were trying to comfort me, but it wasn't working. I was starting to get worried. Memory loss didn't necessarily mean a complete change of personalities.
But I filed my worries away and smiled at both men.
We spoke for a while, and eventually my residual anger at Joey desolved. Morgana was gone now. There was no reason to remain angry.
After a while, Rowan announced that his shift would be starting soon. Which meant that he had to leave.
He stood up and held out his hand again towards me.
Because I was still sitting and wasn't willing to stand, I had to raise my hand upwards to shake his.
The difference in our position made it look as though he loomed over me, and as soon as that thought crossed my mind, something happened.
Another blurred memory flashed past my eyes. In the memory, I was crouching down in fear. And a man was holding out his hand to me just like Rowan just did.
In that memory though, I didn't take the offered hand. Because I knew that taking it meant danger.
The memory ended in less than a second, and I snapped back into my body.
My heart pounded violently in my chest. The first time something like this happened was with Joey.
Now it was Rowan, my husband's best friend.
What the hell was going on?
But most importantly, what was my brain trying so hard to warn me about?