Read Online Memory's Edge: Part One by DelSheree Gladden - Free Book Online Page A

cheek and her
whispered words of comfort that finally reached deep enough to steady him.
    John felt
like a child for his reaction, but he didn’t care.
    It hurt to
move his injured hand. It hurt to press it against Gretchen’s shoulders and
pull her to him. But the pain faded as she laid her cheek against his. The cold
of tears pressing between their skin surprised John, and he thought Gretchen
was crying for him until her free hand reached up to brush away the tears on
his bare cheek.
    He held her
even tighter then.
    As the
minutes slipped by, Gretchen stayed in his arms, letting him borrow from her
strength. She didn’t tell him everything would be okay, or that he didn’t need
to worry—she seemed too pragmatic for that—but she was there when he needed her,
and that made him believe in all of those things she didn’t say.
    Live a
normal life. Dr. Sanchez talked about it. That honestly seemed out of the
question, but just living? John might be able to do that. As long as he had
Gretchen to keep him from falling apart. He could do it with her help.
    “Thank
you,” John said as he finally relinquished his grip on her.
    Smiling
softly, she pressed her hand against his cheek. “Whatever you need,” she said.
“I’m not going anywhere, John.”
    He didn’t
know if he would really ever understand why she was doing this for him, but
John would never forget it. Taking her hand, he pulled it away from his cheek
and brought it up to his lips. The kiss barely touched her fingers, but
something about the act felt right to John, like he had done it before. The
faint blush in Gretchen’s cheeks drove away that passing thought.
    He wanted
to kiss her again and see her silky skin flare up, but he wasn't sure what had
caused the blush. Did he embarrass her, or was it something else? John told
himself he hadn’t meant the kiss to mean anything more than his thanks, but if
that had been true, why couldn’t let go of her hand? Why hadn’t he looked away
from her stormy grey eyes?
    Rebelling
against thoughts like that, John looked away and relaxed his hold on Gretchen’s
hand, letting her pull it free from his grasp. She didn’t take it far. Dropping
her hand down to his shoulder, she left it there as she reached into the book
bag John hadn’t noticed she’d brought with her.
    “I'm sorry
I wasn’t able to stay last night,” she said.
    Did she
know he’d been freaking out about her not being there?
    “Lynn
kicked me out to get some rest and I needed to get a few things ready.”
Gretchen shook her head. “Next time, I’ll be sure to tell you I’m going before
I take off.”
    John
groaned silently. She did know. Did she think him pathetic? He was already so
lacking, he hated to make her think even less of him. Watching as she took a
notebook out of her bag, John saw no criticism in her expression. She knew, but
it didn’t make her think less of him. He had no hope of ever repaying Gretchen.
    “So, I know
Dr. Sanchez said there’s no way to treat amnesia, but that doesn’t mean we
shouldn’t at least try,” Gretchen said. Handing him a notebook and pen, she
watched him excitedly. John didn’t understand.
    “What am I
supposed to do with this?” he asked.
    “Writing
therapy.”
    “What?”
    “You just
write in it. Write whatever you want. Write about how you feel about things,
anything you might remember, or new things you figure out, or what you want to
do when you get out of here,” Gretchen said. “It’s something one of my
professors had us do in college. I really enjoyed it, and I think it might help
you.”
    John
thought it was an interesting idea.
    “Thank you,
Gretchen.”
    She just
shrugged as silence fell between them. Still sitting on the edge of the bed,
she held her hands in her lap. Her middle finger kept rubbing the fingers of
her other hand. It was the hand John had kissed. Was that why it held her
attention? he wondered. Was she remembering his touch,
or trying to rub it off? Maybe she