streetsNeve heaved a sigh as dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He gently pushed the untouched cup of coffee from him and lifted his eyes to her again. “What good will it do to remember?” he heard himself ask.

Ameya blinked in confusion. “I don’t know…” she answered hesitantly, frowning at her hands propped on the countertop surface. “Wouldn’t it be good to at least remember where I came from?” her eyes lifted to his face, searching it for the truth.

He swallowed at her question and the urgency in her gaze. First and foremost, he was her doctor. Had always been even before they became friends, and right now, she wanted his help as her doctor. Neve refrained from groaning aloud and nodded. “Perhaps a year after it happened, but things have changed.” He shook his head to stop himself from thinking beyond his medical expertise. It didn’t matter now whether or not she would ever understand his heart. “After eight years, wouldn’t you only cause yourself and Tomas grieve by trying to find out the truth of your past?”

Ameya raised a brow at him. “The truth of my past?” She gave him a wry smile, lowering her gaze to her clasped hands. “You make it sound as if my past was such a bad one…” her heart dipped into her stomach, dreading it as the truth.

“I didn’t say that,” Neve mumbled, lowering his eyes from sighing at her long lashes splayed on her soft cheeks. Even now, he wanted to pull her into his arms and—he shook his head, forcing his mind on the present. “Even if you remember, what good will it do? Will you pack up and leave to search for the truth of your past?”

She blinked at her fingers, letting his question waft over her as dread settled in her. What if he was right? What if the past she’d left behind was one she’d fought hard to escape? Judging from the muddled dreams of her running and stumbling through the dark, it could be true. Ameya frowned, squeezing her fingers. “What about Tomas?” She licked her dry lips. “Even if I’m fine with never knowing the truth of my past, what about my son? What do I tell him?”

Neve’s head jerked up, his heart suddenly in his throat. “What are you saying?”

Ameya lifted her eyes to his face, smiling warily at the evident shock she found there. “Whether I can ignore it or not, Tomas’ father is out there…”

“Ameya—” Neve paused when Ameya shook her head. He swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “Y-you want to find Tomas’ father?”

A wistful smile crossed her lips as she shifted her gaze over her shoulder to where her son was now snuggling against his plush toy, another gift from Neve. “I have to…” Those dreams that left her warm and tingly inside had to mean something. She had to find out who had once loved her and who had eventually abandoned her, even if it ended up hurting more than never knowing. For Tomas’ sake, she had to learn about the origin of her son’s quirky freckles and striking gray eyes.

Her smile waned, blinking at her son’s tuft of sandy hair sticking out from behind the plush toy he hugged tightly. Gray eyes and freckles… Her heart slammed hard against her chest as she pictured the strong, freckled arm that had barred her from hitting the dashboard earlier that day. The hand belonged to the man with striking grey eyes and sandy wavy hair. Jonathan Harris, she breathed incredulously, feeling her heart skip a beat. Shaking her head, Ameya started to stand.

Neve frowned as Ameya walked quickly to sleeping Tomas. “What are you doing?” He stepped out of the stool as she perched the boy on her hip. “Where are you going?”

Ameya couldn’t answer, her mind racing as she reached on the counter for her keys and her wallet, already walking toward the front door.

“Ameya,” Neve followed her out of the house and down the sloping path to where her tourist van was parked on the street. He grabbed her free arm to stop her. “Where are you going?” he asked firmly.

She clenched her jaw as he blocked her path. “Please move, Neve. I have to go somewhere now. Let me pass.”

Neve reluctantly loosened his hold on her arm and watched helplessly as Ameya deposited Tomas in the passenger’s seat and closed the door, before rounding to her side of the car. He pushed forward, stepping between her and the car. “Where—”

“Neve!” Ameya forced out impatiently, glaring up at him. “Right now, I don’t know what to tell you. Just step aside for now and I’ll tell you when I get back. Okay?”

He blinked at her before clamped his tongue, taking a step back from the car.

Hiding a wince at the unreadable look on Neve’s face, Ameya pushed into her seat and closed the door. “I’ll be back,” she mumbled, turning on the ignition.

Neve heard the car roar to life but stared past Ameya at the sleeping Tomas beside her. As the car eased down the hill, he quietly turned to watch the red taillights disappear into the night. Even though he wasn’t sure where she was going, he knew something was about to change and he was powerless to do anything about it. Sighing desolately, Neve rubbed the back of his neck and turned to walk in the opposite direction toward his car parked on the other side of the street.

<<Part 27 || Part 29>>