Her Mysterious Lover (Book 3)

(Lydia)

Today marked two months since I last saw Thomas, my husband. My heart raced as I remembered the harsh words he’d flung at me the last time he stormed out.

“I wish I never met you.”

Those searing words had been endlessly echoing in my mind since that dreadful day.

The shrill ring of the phone jolted me from my painful reverie. I glanced at the caller ID and my breath caught. It was Thomas. With trembling fingers, I answered. “H-hello?”

“Lydia.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “I'm coming home today.”

Home. Was this house still home if he was not here? Despite the anger and hurt brewing inside me, part of me dared to feel a glimmer of hope.

“You’re...coming back?”

“For now,” he replied curtly. “We need to sort some things out regarding the divorce.”

My heart sank at the d-word. Divorce. The gaping wound in my heart reopened, fresh pain seeping through. “But Thomas, I—”

“I'll see you later today.” His tone was flat and withdrawn, the way it had been ever since I lost him to the accident … or, perhaps, to her. 

I could hear her chattering away in the background. Perhaps, they were dining out. Beyond the window, the sun was shining. It was certainly a beautiful day to be on one of those patio lunch spots that Thomas would take me to…The line went dead.

Sinking onto the sofa, I buried my face in my hands, tears leaking through my fingers. How did we end up here? It was all because of that cursed day three years ago...

The snow is blurring the windshield. Thomas struggled to keep control of the car as it veered across the icy road. The awful crunching of metal as we collided with the guardrail.

Then...darkness.

When I finally awoke in the hospital a year later, my world had turned upside down. Thomas was by my bedside, but his eyes held no warmth, no recognition, no love. The man I loved was gone, his memories of our life together erased by the accident.

He had been the only love I’d ever known.

But in his mind, we were strangers. Worse, he had fallen for another woman during the year I was in a coma. Our old friend, Sarah. The betrayal cut deep, but I refused to give up on the man I loved.

“Thomas, please,” I begged, grasping his hand. “It's me, Lydia. Your wife.”

He had pulled away, brow furrowed. “I'm sorry, but I don't remember you. My life is with Sarah now.”

Sarah had flung her arms around him before my very eyes. And he had pulled her close to him. I had sat up in my hospital bed, shaking my head and then clenching my eyes shut, hoping that when I opened them, this nasty vision would go away.

It was not a hallucination. It was my new truth.

I fought hard in the past two years to get him back. I reminded Thomas of our honeymoon in Paris, the coast in Maui where he pulled out a ring, and all of the private jokes that we’d shared.

But my love had drowned into oblivion when Thomas remained stubbornly indifferent, pushing me away at every turn.

“When will you give up?” he’d snapped one day, jaw clenched with barely concealed contempt. “I told you, I don't love you anymore.”

His words were like a dagger to my heart, but still I persisted. I had to believe the love we shared was stronger than his amnesia. My Thomas was still in there somewhere; I just had to find a way to reach him.

Then two months ago, the unthinkable happened. At Thomas's house warming party for his new place with Sarah, someone spiked the cocktail with drugs. That's when the breakthrough happened—or so I thought at the time.

My dress had been as red as the wine that we’d had from the bottle that night alone in his bedroom. I had worn the same perfume as the night of our honeymoon, hoping to engage his senses and bring back forth his memories of me … of the countless nights we’d spent this way.

And, Thomas and I ended up together...intimately.

I had hoped that night would be the catalyst to shake Thomas's memories loose, surely Thomas would remember the way he used to run his hands along my back before pulling me into him and telling me that he most ardently loved me. 

But the next morning, he accused me of being a deceitful snake, claiming I had seduced him on purpose. 

“Nasty gold-digger! You would go to any length to entrap me with your wiles,” he had snarled.

In a daze, I had returned to our...my little apartment, praying he would come to his senses and realize I was innocent all along.

Now, as I waited for him on my sofa, I dared to hope one last time that he would come back to me. Even though he’d mentioned divorce, Thomas had called. He'd said wanted to come home.

A part of me wanted to take the chance.

Twenty minutes later, I was in the kitchen cooking beef for his favorite homemade lasagna and putting a pie in the oven. Thomas had always relished every morsel of food that I had cooked for him.

I was certain that he would be unable to resist the scent of his favorite apple pie. He had said it reminded him of home. I still wanted to be his home.

I put on a black and white dress that I’d worn the night that he had proposed to me and tied up my red curls into a bun.

My home looked warm and inviting with candles lit across the living room. They glowed from the holder on the dining table, too, where the food I’d made for him was now placed.

The doorbell rang and my heart leapt. But when I opened the door, my hope instantly shriveled. There stood Thomas, lips twisted in a sneer—with Sarah on his arm, looking as smug as ever.

"What's all this?" Thomas's eyes swept over the intimate setting with disdain.

My chin quivered as I struggled to find the words. "I...I thought if I recreated some of our old date nights, it might help jog your memory.”

“Oh please,” Sarah said and followed Thomas indoors, “It’s pathetic how you keep clinging on to the past!” 

She cast a look around the apartment with an air of scorn and haughty disdain, her arms still clinging to Thomas.

And it was then that I saw the princess-cut diamond. Thomas had given it to me when we’d first gotten engaged and, now, it was on her ring finger.

Thomas's face hardened to stone. Before I could utter another word, he reached into his jacket and retrieved an envelope, thrusting it against my chest. "Divorce papers. Sign them."

Tears blurred my vision as I met Thomas's cold stare. "Please...let's just talk about this. I know you're still in there, my Thomas."

"Don't delude yourself." His voice dripped with disgust. "You're nothing but an obsessive snake, trying to wriggle your way back into my life. Well, I'm done playing your twisted games…"

My heart shattered into a million pieces as his hateful vitriol poured forth. 

"... conniving...evil...always sabotaging my happiness with Sarah. I wish I never met you!"

There they were again. Those damning words. 

I wish I never met you.

The words tore at my heart. For the last time, I tried to convince myself that somewhere deep inside, the Thomas I loved was still trapped and his warm eyes and gentle spirit were just overridden by anger and amnesia, but I could no longer believe in the lie.

He was gone.

Forever.

"I wish the same," I whispered.

My hands shook as I took the pen he offered me and scrawled my name on the dotted line.