to cover it.
Glancing around the open space, she couldn’t help but feel the decor looked as if it had been directly lifted from a catalog. Everything was gorgeous—stainless steel appliances with rustic wooden accent bowls—but it all felt too...put together.
Was this the kind of woman she had become over the past five years?
Unable to suppress her need for more answers, Alaina began to explore the house. Their house, she reminded herself. This was supposedly all hers, too, even if it felt alien in comparison to her more Spartan upbringing. She needed to learn to be comfortable here again.
Porter had made it clear that he wanted her to relax. To take time for herself. And while that was sweet, she wasn’t entirely sure she enjoyed being forced into downtime. She had lost so much of her life that downtime intimidated her.
But she had to admit she admired Porter’s dedication to Thomas. It was endearing. He had found a way to integrate work and family. And that trait was sexy as hell.
She searched for more signs of encouragement regarding their life, but the rest of the house mirrored the kitchen. It was also well put together. So manicured and manufactured. She couldn’t seem to find a trace of her artistic side at all.
Alaina thought back to the last apartment she could remember, the one she’d had five years ago. It had been modest, but hanging above her bed, she had placed a Renaissance-style painting. The myths drew her in. She loved that each painting captured a Greek tragedy or legend.
There wasn’t one painting like that in this whole place.
Did Porter hate that sort of thing? Had she given up her taste in favor of his? And should she just start changing things now?
The bramble of her thoughts was interrupted as she came to the staircase and practically walked into her mother-in-law.
Courtney’s hair was swept into a tight but elegant topknot. Polished. Her green dress swished as she moved toward Alaina. Jimmy Choo heels clicked with each step.
The poised, older woman waved with long, manicured nails. “Come with me. I need coffee. Or a mimosa. Unless you would rather some time by yourself?”
“Of course not.” Alaina had too much time to spend with a jumble of questions about her missing thoughts. “I would love the chance to visit with you.”
Her mother-in-law cast her a sidelong glance. “Dear, it’s all right. You don’t have to tiptoe around my feelings.”
“I welcome the chance to get to know you. You’re Porter’s mom.” She extended her arm for Courtney to take. It was time to start to get to know her family. Her old life.
Had they got along before?
Courtney linked her arm with Alaina’s. “I’m also your mother-in-law. Thomas’s grandmother. I’m here to help however I can. Not that you really need it. You’re very good with Thomas.”
Was she? God, she hoped so. “I don’t know anything about babies.”
“Maybe not before you got married, but since I’ve known you? You’ve learned a lot about infants. You volunteered in the NICU three times a week, holding the newborns or just talking to the ones too tiny and fragile to be held.” Her mother-in-law guided her back toward the kitchen.
Back toward Porter.
“I did that?” Another thing to add to the list of things she was learning about her life during these missing years. Fancy art exhibits. A postgraduate degree. NICU babies. She had certainly filled her time while married to Porter.
“It was hard for you, wanting to be a mother so desperately.” Courtney patted her hand. Sympathy radiated from her touch.
There was a certain calm that settled between them. An understanding Alaina seemed to be close to grasping, but couldn’t quite settle. Not yet. Although it wouldn’t hurt to ask a few questions.
“What about Porter? Does he want to be a father?”
“Of course he does. You’ve seen how he is with Thomas.”
Alaina thought back to the way he had massaged Thomas’s hurt leg last night. About how he had insisted on watching him as he worked. He was taking his fatherly duties seriously. And it made her heart melt.
“Whose idea was it to adopt?”
Her mother-in-law hesitated midstep before walking again, heels clicking on travertine tiles. “You would have to ask him that question.”
Did Courtney not know or was there something deeper here? An argument within the family? “I’m so tired of asking him about every single detail of our lives together. I was hoping you could help fill in some details.”
“I’m sorry about the amnesia, dear.” She squeezed Alaina’s hand, her touch lotiony soft. “That has to be so frustrating, but maybe you can focus on the good things, like your child, your marriage, your home. Not everyone has all of that.”
The woman was such a mix of coolness and warmth. One minute Alaina was certain her mother-in-law disapproved of her, and the next Courtney was offering genuine comfort. Navigating life lately was like walking through a maze with a blindfold on.
“I hear what you’re saying and I appreciate your trying to help. Really.” They were practically at Porter’s office now. Alaina glanced at the wall that housed photographs in handsome frames. Not one photograph had Alaina side by side with Courtney.
Glancing at her mother-in-law, Alaina chewed on her lip. What had their relationship been like? Judging by the photo albums she’d pored over, there wasn’t much of a relationship between them. She forced herself to ask the question that had weighed on her mind since Porter announced that Courtney was at their vacation house. “Did you and I like each other?”
Arched eyebrows lifted. “Honestly? Not very much. We don’t have a lot in common.”
Finally, what felt like an honest answer from someone. “I think I like you now.”
“That’s probably because you don’t feel married to my son.”
True as it was, the declaration stung. Alaina spun her wedding ring around on her finger. “And could it also be that you don’t see me as Porter’s wife anymore?”
“Maybe...” Courtney paused, worrying one fingernail with another. “I made my mistakes—you made yours. But lucky for us, we get a fresh start.”
There was a lot of fresh-starting going around. A lot of work going into creating a second chance at her life. If only she knew how long it would be until her memories came back. If they ever would. Was the effort to start over wasted—or vitally necessary?
Either way, right now, Alaina had no choice but to press on. “Courtney, will I dislike you again if I remember? Was it that bad?”
And if she remembered, what would she think of her marriage? That was a question she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
“Somehow, I think we’ve found a middle ground that will stick regardless of what you remember.”
“Good.
