The Wife He Couldn't Forget

He walked around the spacious living area and clamped down on the growl that rose in his throat. This place should at least feel familiar in some way. These were his things. His recent life. Yet he didn’t sense even the remotest connection to anything, not like he did to some of the things back at the house across the harbor.

The anger that had buoyed him along since he’d overheard Olivia on the phone left him in a rush, only a deep sense of defeat remained in its wake. He looked around one more time. Still nothing. A hallway beckoned, but he found he lacked the energy to even want to push himself down that corridor and see what lay beyond it. A bedroom, no doubt. It would almost certainly feel as foreign to him as the rest of the apartment already did.

Weariness pulled at him with unrelenting strength. He didn’t belong here, either.

“Take me back,” he said roughly. “Please. I’ve had enough.”

Olivia came to stand at his side. Everything about her seemed to be offering refuge, from the expression on her face to the arms she gingerly curved around his waist.

“Maybe losing your memory wasn’t the worst thing, Xander. Have you stopped to consider that? We’ve been good together. Happy. It’s proof we can do better together—be better together. Can’t we just take that and build something great with it now all over again?”

He wanted to say yes, but some unnamable thing held him back. They started toward the door, then stopped abruptly at the sound of the doorbell, swiftly followed by the sound of a key being inserted and the door being opened.

* * *

Olivia’s eyes opened in shock as a petite young woman let herself into Xander’s apartment. She recognized her instantly. The woman had been an intern at Xander’s office shortly after their marriage. Olivia knew she’d worked her way up since then. But what was Rachelle doing here, and why did she have a key to Xander’s apartment? Her shock at seeing the woman was nothing to what came next.

“Rachelle, how are you?” Xander asked with a smile on his face that had been missing for the better part of today.

Olivia couldn’t help it. She felt an immediate pang of jealousy. There’d always been something about Rachelle that had grated on her—a familiarity with Xander even when their marriage was at its best that had made Olivia feel as if she was operating off her back foot around her all the time.

Rachelle came forward and gave Xander a welcoming hug and kiss on the cheek. Olivia wondered if her eyes were turning an unbecoming shade of green as a wave of possessiveness swept through her. It was all she could manage to stand and smile politely, especially when what she wanted most was to drag the other woman off her husband and push her out the door. She took in a steadying breath. That wasn’t her. She’d never been the jealous type, but Rachelle brought out the feral in her, always had.

“Xander! It’s so good to see you,” Rachelle gushed, still hugging him. “We were all so shocked at your accident. I’d have come to see you at the hospital, but they restricted visitors to immediate family only. But I called the hospital regularly and stayed up-to-date with your progress. Until recently, that is.”

Rachelle finally looked at Olivia, who bit her tongue to keep from replying. The obvious reproach was there in the younger woman’s words. Olivia lifted her chin, accepting the challenge.

“I’ve been in touch with Ken to let him know Xander was recuperating at home,” she said firmly.

“Of course you have,” Rachelle said with a slight curve of her lips. She turned her attention back to Xander. “I just thought I’d call in to see how Xander was and to see if there was anything he needed. This is his home, after all, isn’t it? I didn’t realize he was staying at your house.” She turned to face Xander. “So, are you returning soon?”

Olivia held her breath. Was he?

Xander shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway.”

Olivia fought to hold herself upright. No easy feat when she wanted to sag in relief.

“In fact,” Olivia said with a forced smile, “we were just leaving.”

“Oh,” Rachelle said, disappointment clear in her face. “That’s a shame. I’ve been looking forward to catching up.”

Before Xander could respond, Olivia spoke again. “Perhaps another time.”

She maintained eye contact with Rachelle, neither woman backing down from the silent challenge that hovered between them. Rachelle was the first to break.

“Of course,” she muttered.

Xander excused himself to use the bathroom, leaving the two women alone in the foyer. Rachelle waited until they heard the bathroom door close before wheeling to face Olivia.