“Thank you.” A smile spread across her face. “I remember your face, but I can’t remember what we talked about.”
“That’s okay,” Jackson said. “There’s always time to get to know one another again.”
I wished I were sitting by Calloway so I could rest my hand on his thigh, give him some sort of affection so he would understand he wasn’t alone in this. But it seemed like we were a mile apart with Jackson between us.
“Do you have a woman in your life?” Theresa asked.
Jackson chuckled. “No, not really.”
“What’s with the laugh?” she asked.
Jackson shrugged. “I’m not really looking to settle down. Not a one-woman kind of guy.”
Theresa and Jackson talked about his love life, almost like mother and son. I turned to Calloway to make eye contact with him, but he wouldn’t meet my look. He stared at his mother, his eyes glazed over with pure nothingness.
I kept waiting for something big to happen, for Theresa to realize her flesh and blood was staring right back at her. But the connection never came. She talked about knitting and asked Jackson about his work. It seemed like she was having a conversation with a friend rather than a family member. Maybe she remembered his face from the other day, but she certainly didn’t remember anything else.
I couldn’t hide my disappointment.
After visiting for a few hours, we said goodnight and headed on our way.
Jackson walked with his hands in his pockets as we reached the lobby. “Well…I guess that went well.”
Calloway was silent, his brooding energy seeping into the skin of everyone around him.
“Maybe if we keep visiting her, we could help her create new memories,” I said. “If she can continue remembering us, then we can eventually tell her she’s your mother.”
Calloway shook his head. “She said she recognizes faces but can’t remember the conversation. I don’t think that’s promising. For all we know, she might think she remembers us but has no memory at all.”
I hated his pessimistic attitude, but I couldn’t argue with him. Maybe we weren’t moving forward at all. Maybe we were just wasting our time altogether. “It’s worth a try, right?”
“I don’t know,” Jackson said. “I hate seeing her like this…not fun.”
“I don’t like it either,” Calloway said. “I’m starting to believe there’s no hope. She’s stuck in a prison in her mind, and there’s nothing we can do to break her out.”
“That’s not true…” Even if it was true, I didn’t want to believe it.
Calloway didn’t look at me.
“This is too hard for me, man,” Jackson said. “I want to be there for her. I really do. But I can’t keep staring at the blank look on her face. She has no idea who I am. And she’ll never know who I am. She’ll never know you visit her several times a week. She’ll never know we even exist. So what does all this work matter? If it were me, I’d want my kids to enjoy their lives and not worry about me. I wouldn’t want them to waste their time reading to me when I’m gonna forget them the second they leave. Not worth it…” Jackson walked away without further comment. He walked through the front doors then disappeared from our sight.
Calloway didn’t go after him and try to change his mind. He accepted his brother’s feelings completely. But he still wouldn’t look at me, probably not interested in the sadness on my face.
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.” I had no right to tell Calloway what to do in this regard. He was the one carrying the emotional burden of his mother’s illness, something I would never understand since I hadn’t experienced it. Even if I didn’t agree with his decision, it would be wrong for me to steer him in a different direction.
Calloway finally looked at me, his blue eyes dark with despair. “I know.”
3
Calloway
It amazed me how suddenly I regressed back to the man I was before I met Rome. My exterior had suddenly callused, and now I was hard as steel once more. My jaw was always tight with fury, and I couldn’t stop my hands from constantly forming fists. My need to dominate, to exert my authority and power into every room I walked into, was overwhelming.
But I liked it.
I got what I needed from Isabella. I hurt her—a lot. And every time she cried, it gave me immense satisfaction. I was a sadist, and I knew I would always be a sadist. I never had the intention or desire to hurt Rome because I focused all my efforts on a different person entirely.
And that allowed me to cherish her.
I enjoyed our lovemaking even more now that my other needs were fulfilled. I could concentrate on her and all the thing she loved. To my surprise, I loved it too. The gentle touching, the soft caresses, everything revved my engine.