He had done everything right, making it impossible for me to imagine my life without him. He had become my lightning strike, just as he had sworn I was his. But lightning burns, and with each day that had passed since I learned the truth, I welcomed back another piece of my heart. Soon, it would be whole again, the wall around it rebuilt, and my life would go back to the way it was.
Soon, I would forget the sound of his voice, his musky scent, his dominating presence.
Soon, I would no longer be haunted with the memory of his arms wrapped around me, shielding me from the demons of my past.
Soon, he would just be another reminder of why life was better when planned.
Approaching the front door, I lost the few nerves I had and spun around quickly, ready to bolt. My chest heaved, a sick feeling settling in my stomach. Swallowing hard, I took a moment and leaned on the railing. I had no idea why I was as terrified as I was. I had been through much more challenging situations – losing my first love to what I thought was mental illness, burying my mother, losing my father – but I was petrified of what awaited me on the other side of that door.
Maybe I was scared to learn the truth. Maybe I was scared to learn I had put my faith and trust in another human and my instincts had faltered…again. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to be faced with the reminder that life was better if I kept my heart guarded. Maybe it was because Tyler had done what no man had ever done before… He made me feel. Maybe it was because once he opened that door and I finally got the closure I needed, this chapter in my life would come to an end. Maybe it was because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, despite what my brain was telling me.
Turning back around, I composed myself, drawing in a deep breath. My arm seemed to weigh a ton as I raised it and rang the doorbell. The sound of a dog barking echoed, followed by approaching footsteps. Shifting from foot to foot, I fidgeted with the hem of my dress, tugging at it. My jaw tightened as I braced myself for the impending conversation.
Everything seemed to play in slow motion as the door opened and a built man with short dark hair stared back at me. He wore a black t-shirt and cargo pants, his breathtaking smile able to light up a room. But instead of striking green eyes, the eyes that gazed back at me were blue and foreign.
“Mackenzie,” he said in a way that gave off the impression we had met before, although I couldn’t place him for the life of me. I combed through my memory for how we could have known each other. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-five, his jaw square and distinguished. His cheekbones were defined, his brow strong. Months ago, he was exactly the type of guy I’d spend a week with before he returned home to wherever he came, but I’d remember him. There was only one explanation that made sense, and my blood began to boil once again.
“So you’re working with Tyler, too, aren’t you?!” I asked with ice in my voice.
He scrunched his eyebrows, clearly taken aback. “Tyler? Tyler who? What are you talking about, Mackenzie?”
“I don’t know who the hell you are or what you’re doing here, but if this is another one of his mind games, you can tell him I’m not amused. Better yet,” I said, pushing into the foyer, “I’ll tell him myself. Where is he?”
“Where is who?” he asked, his voice soft, almost concerned.
“Tyler!” I exclaimed, becoming irritated. I strode down the hallway, peeking my head into each room for any sign of him. His large waterfront house was exactly as I remembered – the furniture modern, the art lacking personality. I should have known something was amiss when I first saw his décor. It was frigid, cold, and heartless, just like Tyler.
“There is no one named Tyler here,” the man insisted, following me as I tore through the house.
Refusing to believe his words, I ignored him. “Tyler!” I shouted, throwing open door after door, only to be met with emptiness. “Eli?” I choked out, my voice strained. There was no sign of either of them. Worse, there was no indication they had ever been here.
Feeling my world spin out of control, desperation took over and I ran toward the back door. “He must be on his boat,” I muttered to myself, feeling a pair of confused eyes on me as I bolted down the stairs toward the back gate leading to the dock. I pulled on it, but it was locked.
“Mackenzie, I know things have been hectic for you, what with the opening of the restaurant and the eighty-hour work weeks…”
I reeled around and met his sympathetic eyes. “How do you know who I am?”
“It’s me,” he said, urging me to recognize him. I prayed this was all a dream and I would wake up, open my eyes, and see Tyler standing in front of me. “Jeremiah. I own a club on the island. You reached out to me for advice about opening up your own place several months ago.”
“But how do I remember this house? And I know I’ve been on that yacht.” I gestured toward the beautiful vessel anchored behind me, certain I had spent one of the best nights of my life on it just a few weeks ago.
“You’ve been here,” he said. “Hell, last fall, you were here at least once a week to pick my brain.”
“I was?” I asked, my breathing growing more ragged. I searched my brain for a memory of this man, but it just wouldn’t come. The last six months seemed to be a puzzle. Nothing of significance stood out in my mind…except meeting Tyler Burnham. And I was certain I had met him and that he lived here.
All the blood rushed from my face and I couldn’t help but feel as if the world was giving out from beneath me.
“Hey, hey,” he soothed, rushing toward me as I struggled to maintain my balance. “Let me call someone for you.” He placed his arm around my waist in an attempt to usher me back into the house.
The feel of his flesh on mine scalded me, setting me off. “Don’t touch me!” I bellowed, pushing him away. “And stop with the games! It’s not funny! Tell me where he is!”
“I’m not playing any games,” he insisted. “This is my house. I’ve lived here for years with my partner. There’s no one named Tyler here.”
Frantic, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and flipped through it, searching for proof I wasn’t crazy. “We met a few weeks ago! I just got back from Boston, where he’s from!”
“Then why are you here?” he asked, his gaze narrowed as he studied me with concern.
“Because he lives here!” I exclaimed. “Don’t you see?!” I continued searching my phone, my chin quivering as I scanned through photo after photo of me in Boston, on the waterfront, in the Commons, in the North End, eating oysters… But where Tyler was once in those photos, there was nothing. It was as if he had been erased.
The air was thick as I tried to make sense of it all. I was living in some sort of alternate reality. I prayed I would wake up and everything would turn out to have simply been a nightmare, that Tyler didn’t just date me to gather information about my father. I had always relied on what I knew to be real and true, and I thought Tyler was. Now, I felt as if I couldn’t trust any of my senses. Not sight, not sound, not touch…and I certainly couldn’t trust my heart.
Staring at the yacht on which I thought Tyler and I had spent our “one night”, I slowly turned around, my head fuzzy.
“Are you sure there’s no one I can call for you?” the man asked once more.
I raised my head and stared into his blue eyes, wishing I could see proof this was all part of some fucked up plan to mess with my memory, but they were stone cold, impenetrable.
Sighing, I shook my head. “No. I’m sorry,” I apologized flatly, my voice barely audible. “You’re right. I’ve been working too much. I must have…” I fought back the lump in my throat. “My mistake.”