Ill-Gotten Memories

23. When Boys Become Men

*Content Warning:*
There are explicit sexual acts depicted throughout this chapter.

Unmerited favor. Not everyone could see it. Not everyone cared. But I did. I could feel it. It was a steady stream coursing down my body; a shower cleansing me from the inside out, and washing away my prior uncertainties. Like a baptism or... a sweet smelling rain just before harvest. Nourishing and rectifying. God's mercy, in abundance, was swiftly growing in my life right before my very eyes. I felt His blessings all around me as the things I had prayed for were finally becoming a reality. Yet I didn't deserve one iota of them.

Because I was a sinful, indulgent man. But His grace was greater.

The relief that poured into my heart when Barbara fully recognized me could not be understated. It was a burden lifted off my shoulders that I had been carrying since the night her father was killed. She could understand now how much she meant to me, and that I had waited a lifetime to feel her touch again.

She was crying softly into the crook of my neck. To comfort my sweet angel, I rubbed her back, contending with my own ache. I didn't know why exactly she was weeping—if they were happy tears, or sad, but the sound of her muffled cries was breaking my heart. She wrenched my insides into a marred and twisted mess.

Was it because of the time we had lost? Or something worse?

She raised her head up and grabbed onto my face to cope with whatever she was grappling with. It was a tight and longing embrace. The tears were innumerable gliding down her cheeks.

"I can't believe it's you." A radiance of wonder shined from Barbara's gaze; yet sadness, joy, and excitement all jostled for attention in the spread of her sweet voice. She laid her forehead on mine. Enticing fingertips traveled through my beard, but still, they remained delicate and pure. "I don't know how I could just... forget so easily. I'm sorry." Suddenly, shame had emerged behind the joy she so freely expressed to me.

"No, you were going through a lot at the time. Don't be."

"Everything is still a little vague. But I can finally see you now. Hear your voice." Her eyes swiveled back and forth, piecing together the memories. "Remember the things we talked about. The long walks we took and... the hugs we shared."

Her smile could bring the dead to life, and I was pretty sure I was the first. God, this was incredible. Simply hearing the gladness she embellished with every word was enough to stitch my battered heart back together. She did remember me. And that was all I had been waiting for. At times I didn't think she would.

"Then you must realize... how special you are to me?"

I didn't want her to question my motives or intentions anymore. I needed Barbara's complete trust... in order to accelerate my plan to immunize her from certain repercussions. That was still the priority.

Shyly, she nodded, and then gave me the most gorgeous smile she could conceive. "You're special to me, too."

... I was? Did that mean? ....

It didn't matter. Not now. She took my lips into hers, pressing a soft, loving caress with every heartbeat. Barbara had cardiac influence over me, because mine were elevated and climbing, beating on my desires to have her completely again. A few kisses weren't nearly enough to satisfy me. I tried not to get too excited... but watching her ample about in nothing more than my button-up and a pair of panties? It was very difficult to behave. I was wayward for this woman.

Things were proceeding beautifully and I couldn't be happier. Though, it was obvious she was still not a hundred percent remembering the past. Most notably how our relationship had ended—the night I shot Boyles. If she could, I doubted that this would be such a joyous reunion. But somewhere along the way her perception of that event had been altered. Because to my understanding, she believed her father had committed the act, and not me. Between her conversations with Doctor Jenkins and my own, I wasn't even in the picture. Cillian had no doubt brainwashed her into believing whatever was most convenient for him, and erasing me seemed to improve his version of the story.