Chapter Eleven (Michael POV)

This is seriously going to suck.

That had been my first thought when both Jane and Rafael volunteered to tag along on my and Mateo's camping trip and that is my thought presently as I listen to them engage in yet another round of pre-marital bickering. To their credit, their fighting mostly happens behind a veneer of polite, toothy smiles. They deliver their barbs and accusations with saccharine sweetness for Mateo's sake but I'm not at all insensible to the tension between them even if I don't know the details about why they're fighting. Clearly there is trouble in Paradise and, quite frankly, I don't want to be in the middle of it.

My plans for the weekend had been really simple. All I'd wanted was spend two days bonding with Mateo. We were going to relax by the lake, go swimming, fish, walk the trails, roast marshmallows over the campfire and whatever else popped into our heads. I had been looking forward to it for two reasons. The first reason is that I liked hanging out with Mateo. He was spunky, opinionated and a general hoot to be around. For some inexplicable reason, the kid made me happy and when I was with him I spent less time dwelling on myself and my messy life. With everything going on right now, it is a welcome change of pace.

The second reason I had been looking forward to our camping trip correlates with the first reason. I needed to get out of my own head for a little while. So far…it's not going too well.

Therapy with Dr. Alan Beavers is proving to be both a blessing and a curse. In the last week I had experienced a series of breakthroughs with my memory, both good and bad. I can now recall the details of my childhood. I can remember exactly how it felt when my parents, brother and I were a family and also how it felt when we weren't anymore. My complicated relationship with my brother is no longer a vague reference point for me. Now I understand the details as to why Billy and I have such a contentious relationship, now the fact that he hasn't contacted me at all actually disappoints me. I guess I shouldn't be surprised by his apathy since, according to my parents, he hasn't called, written or even been seen since before I "died."

Whereas before Billy's absence had been a fact I knew and accepted and had given little thought to, now I find myself worrying about where the hell he is and what the hell he's doing. I'm angry with him for being MIA and I still don't approve of his life choices but I also miss him. I regret the bitterness between us. I miss the way we used to be before our parents' divorce, before his drug abuse, before I became a cop and he became a career criminal. It's all mixed up in my head now and, to make matters worse, Billy isn't the only person I have conflicted feelings about either.

Before my memories had begun to resurface, I had been grateful to Michael Cordero and very appreciative of his support. Between him and Patricia, he had been the one I'd gravitated towards the most because I found it easier to talk to him. I had always felt comfortable in his presence which made it ridiculously easy for me to like him and even trust him. But now those feelings are muddied with memories of the countless times he'd made my mother cry and when he broke up our family because of his selfish infidelity. I find myself struggling with the resentment and anger I felt towards him (and still feel). Now, the unease and discomfort I had initially felt around my mother has been replaced with protectiveness and deep respect.

I'm almost grateful that my memories of Jane still remain a bit fuzzy. There are a few, random flashes I have from our past together but nothing as concrete as what I've experienced with my parents. According to Dr. Beavers, that is likely because my childhood memories are more deeply ingrained in my psyche because they've been with me longer. My memories with Jane are newer, fresher and, therefore, are not quite as imprinted. However, Dr. Beavers seems confident that my memories of Jane will become equally clear with more therapy. Again, I can't say that I'm eager for that to happen. I having a hard enough time managing my feelings for her now, without the past to influence me. What happens when it's back, wild, free and in living color?

At this point, all I can feel is anxiety at the possible damage it could cause to my fragile relationship with Jane and Mateo. In less than two months, I have come to value her friendship immensely. I'm growing more and more attached to her family with each passing day. And Mateo. I think I love Mateo. The prospect of losing all of that, particularly the bond I'm building with Jane's son, terrifies me.

There's no denying that I care about that little boy like he's my own. I feel very protective of him. I can clearly remember changing him, rocking him, feeding him…the day he started cruising, his first real words, the blossoming of that charming personality that is on full display now. I remember his adorable baby giggle, the way he used to scramble through the house like he was on a mission, nights when he would stand up in his crib and watch me patiently because he knew I was on my way to get him…

I look at him now and it strikes me just how much I've missed…all of the birthdays and swim lessons and skinned knees. Lost teeth and playdates…the first day of kindergarten. So many milestones that I didn't have a chance to witness. All of that is past now and I wasn't a part of any of it. I feel the loss. It literally hurts my heart.

And so, I want to make it up to him somehow. I want to spend as much time with him as I possibly can. I want to watch him grow up and take part in shaping his young manhood. There's only one caveat to it all of those grand plans of mine…he's not my son. Technically, he's not even my stepson anymore. On paper, I really have no place in his life whatsoever. And yet I'm emotionally invested in this kid like I've never been invested in anything.

Thankfully, Jane seems amenable to us spending time together and freely encourages the relationship between us but I am painfully aware of how tenuous an arrangement that is. At any moment, she or Rafael could decide they don't want me in Mateo's life after all and that would be that. I'm hoping like crazy that doesn't happen because Mateo is probably the only thing in my life that makes sense.

It's not that I expected this journey to be easy. I knew when I made the decision to delve into my past that I was going to uncover things that were painful and difficult to grasp. I knew that I was going to finally see glimpses into that five years of captivity and I had thought, mistakenly, that I had prepared myself for those glimpses. But I had been wrong. Very, very wrong. There was very little I could have done that would have prepared me for what lay head.

I rarely sleep anymore these days due to the nightmares. Every night they are always the same. I am in a room with three walls made of solid concrete and one made of iron bars. There are no windows to let in the sunlight and I am chained to a filthy cot, the only piece of furniture in the small cell. In my dream, I scream and scream and scream at the top of my lungs but no one ever hears me. I have the sense that I've been there for a while. There is a desperation I feel, a hopelessness that leaves my entire body aching.

Yet, in spite of that, in the dream I am screaming for help, praying that someone will hear me. I am still screaming when I wake up, drenched in sweat. Those first, few seconds are always disorienting because I don't know where I am and I'm terrified that I'm back in that cell again, shackled to that small, dirty cot like an animal.

Dr. Beavers assures me that these latest night terrors are a good thing and that it means that my broken psyche is starting to recover. He seems confident that, as I get stronger, I will begin to remember more and more details surrounding my captivity. But what fills him with excitement leaves me unable to sleep, unable to think and unable to talk to anyone about what I'm feeling.

Lorena isn't an option. Even if I could put into words the despair and confusion that plagues me, it's not fair to keep running to her for emotional support…not when what she feared all along is coming true. I am falling in love with my ex-wife after all. It isn't what I want and I wish to God that I could stop it but the feelings have taken on a life of their own.

And, despite being so drawn to her, I can't talk to Jane either. I want to. The inclination is strong but so is the attraction that I feel for her. I think about her at night when I can't sleep. I lie awake wanting her.

Even though I've done my best to put up a wall, to keep a respectable distance between us, hell, to push her at Rafael by outright rejecting her, somehow I keep gravitating closer…and so does she. That's a problem, not only because exploring these escalating feelings between us would be way too messy given the circumstances but also because Mateo will most certainly get hurt. I can't have that at all.

Were circumstances different, if Mateo weren't a factor at all, I might try to discover what Jane and I could have together. After all, it's a pretty incredible thing that, even without my memory, there is something about her that still draws me. Either she is one amazing woman or somehow, someway, I'm still the man I was before I disappeared. Perhaps it's a mixture of both things. Whatever the case, it's impossible to ignore the connection between us but I know I can't let it grow beyond friendship. The little boy crouched beside me is all the reason I need.

My thoughts remain scattered as Mateo and I work together to erect the tent. We are currently in the process of staking the pins when Mateo suddenly mumbles, "I think my Mommy and Daddy are fighting."

I glance over to where Jane and Rafael continue their dispute with each other on the very parameter of our camp and then back at him, startled by the observation. Until that very second, I would have sworn he was oblivious. The kid is more perceptive than I gave him credit for. Still, I decide to test him out a little.

"Why do you think they're fighting?"

He observes them from the corner of his eye. "Mommy has on her angry face. Believe me, I know that face better than anyone."

"Oh. Okay."

"They fight a lot now," he confesses in a suffocated, little voice, "I'm scared they might not want to be together anymore."

"Mateo, that's a big jump. Just because your parents are fighting that doesn't mean they're going to break up."

"My friend Alonso's parents used to fight all the time and they got a divorce," he reasons, "What if my Mommy and Daddy get a divorce too?"

I refrain from pointing out to him that Jane and Rafael would have to be married first for that to happen. It seems rather inconsequential under the circumstances. Instead, I try to reassure him. "I understand why you're worried. My parents used to fight a lot too before they got divorced but I don't think that your parents fighting means the same thing. They are going through a very stressful time right now."

Mateo blinks up at me owlishly. "Why are they having a stressful time?"

"Well…I think that might be my fault, Mateo," I confess, "It's been very hard for your mom and dad since I came back."

"You mean because Mommy used to be married to you?"

"Yeah."

"And because she loves you?"

My response doesn't come quite as readily as the first time but I force myself to answer him truthfully. "Yeah."

"Do you love her back?"

Again I hesitate but I decide to be honest with him. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Mateo appears to mull over everything I've told him. Finally, he says, "Mommy cried a lot for you when she thought you were dead. I hated when she was sad. Now that you're back, she's really happy again."

"That's good. I'm glad."

"But my Daddy makes her happy too and she makes him happy," Mateo argues further, "I want them to get married so we can be a family like we're supposed to be."

"And you think that might not happen because your mom still loves me," I surmise quietly, easily discerning what he had left unspoken, "Am I right?"

"I don't want to hurt your feelings!" he rushes to reassure me.

"But you don't want me to be with your mother either," I finish for him. After he confirms that with a timid nod, I tell him, "Mateo, you have nothing to worry about. Your mom and I are friends. That's all."

"Oh. So you don't want to be married to her anymore?"

"No. She's just my good friend and friends can love each other and they can care about each other but that doesn't necessarily mean they're going to be together," I explain gently, "Does that make sense?"

"I think so."

"Good."

I am thankfully spared from having to say more when Rafael suddenly comes ducking over, his face plastered with an over-bright smile. Jane hovers a few feet behind him, her arms crossed defensively. I am trying to read the inscrutable expression on her face when Rafael says, "Wow, you guys already have the tent up. You're really fast."

"Actually, it took us almost twenty minutes," I correct him wryly as I rise from my crouched position, "You and Jane have been a little too preoccupied to notice."

"Right." Both he and Jane duck their heads in mortification but Rafael is the quicker of the two to recover. "So what else can we do to help? Mateo, tell me how this camping thing is done!"

Rather than answer, Mateo looks at me for confirmation. After all, he hasn't had many camping trips in his past and he's still learning. "Why don't you three dig through the cooler for the meat and some drinks," I suggest, "You can get everything set up for dinner tonight while I go gather the wood for the fire."

"I'll go with you!" Jane volunteers as soon as I start to step away.

I fix her with a penetrating look before shaking my head. "No. Stay here with your son and fiancé," I emphasize purposely, "I'll be back soon."

Ten minutes later, I'm in the center of a thick copse of trees, collecting the fallen branches that I find there when I hear a rustling. When I turn towards the sound, I'm hardly surprised to find Jane standing there. I expel a deep, long-suffering sigh. "I told you to stay behind. Don't you ever listen?"

"He's not my fiancé."

I squint at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You told me to stay behind with my son and fiancé and Rafael is not my fiancé…not anymore."

Skeptical, I nod towards the gleaming stone that still adorns her finger. "You're still wearing his ring."

She appears nonplussed for a moment. Finally, she takes off the ring, stuffs it in the pocket of her shorts and stammers, "It…it just happened. I'm going to give him back the ring."

Having gotten my answer, I return to my earlier task of gathering wood. "I'm assuming that he's the one who ended things then, not you."

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, it does," I reply, a little more harshly than I intend, "because it speaks to what you want, Jane."

"Actually, it doesn't," she sighs, her voice sounding closer than before, "I don't know what I want these days, Michael. The only thing I'm really sure of is how I feel about you."

I straighten to face her at that point and realize she's standing less than two feet away from me. Whatever I mean to say to her in that startled moment is forgotten when we come face to face and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the image of her in a yellow dress and a flower in her hair. I stumble back as the memory comes rushing at me.

"…And right now, I'm confused about every single thing in my life…except you."

I regard Jane with what I'm sure is a dazed expression. "We've had this conversation before."

"What conversation?"

"I was at work and you came to see me," I recount a little breathlessly, "You were wearing this bright yellow dress and high heels. Your hair was swept back from your face and you were wearing a flower…" I reach out to lightly brush her temple with my fingertips, "…here."

"That's right. I came to talk to you about my decision to keep the baby but I didn't want to lose you in the process," she tells me, "I was so scared I might lose you."

I bob a nod as the details become clearer to me. "You told me that you were going to give the baby to Rafael and Petra…"

"…Yes…"

"…and then you told me that I was the only thing in your life that you were sure about and all the reasons that you did and didn't love me. You told me that you wanted to grow old with me and that I was your best friend."

She smiles at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "All of that still feels true."

As soon as she says the words my guard immediately goes up. "Jane, don't. We had an agreement. Remember?"

"But that agreement shouldn't matter now. I told you that Rafael and I are over. There's no reason for us not to explore what's happening between us."

I let myself go there for a millisecond before I shake my head in refusal. "That's not what I want."

For a moment, she looks defeated, dejected and I feel overwhelmed with guilt. But then her shoulders stiffen and her features harden with resolve and I know that she's not done with me yet. "I don't believe you," she declares fiercely, "Something has changed between us, Michael. I know it. I feel it. I can tell by the way you look at me."

Rather than go on the defensive with denials, I decide to take an offensive approach. I roll my eyes at her and smirk at her humorlessly. "So what if it has? I am not remotely interested in being your rebound, Jane."

"You have never been my rebound."

"Can you honestly stand there and tell me that you don't have feelings for him?" Her eyes drop in skittish reply. I grunt in response. "'Nuff said, I guess."

"No, it is not enough!" she cries, dogging my heels as I resume gathering wood, "You want me, Michael, and I want you too! For God's sake, we were married! We took vows to love each other until death! That means something! It still means something to me!"

"I already told you that I don't feel the way you do!" I flare.

"And I already told you that I don't believe you!" she flares back, "So I guess we're at an impasse!"

I whip around to face her again, forgetting the branches. "We don't have to be. You can marry Solano just like you planned."

"What about us?"

"There is no us, Jane!" I burst out sharply, scaring both myself and her with my vehemence. After a few deep breaths, I feel more composed and I try again. "I…I really care about you and I value our friendship so much but…" and it's difficult to gear myself up for the coming lie but I force myself to do it regardless, "…I'm not in love with you. I'm starting to remember what it felt like to be in love with you but that's not the way I feel now." Seeing the devastation on her face makes me feel sick inside but I stand my ground. "You should patch things up with Rafael."

She shakes her head at the suggestion and then averts her face to conceal the tears that are beginning to fall down her cheeks. "No," she says in a gruff tone, "That's not going to work. I can't go back to Rafael like nothing ever happened. Regardless of how you feel, Michael, my feelings haven't changed. I'm still in love with you."

Now I'm the one who has to turn away from her because hearing her say the words so plainly, so without reserve is like being kicked in the gut. "God, don't tell me that, Jane!"

"Why should it matter if you don't feel the same?" I stiffen at the question and the unspoken challenge that lay beneath it but say nothing in response. It turns out I don't have to say a word. Jane, as always, can read me like an open book. "You are such a terrible liar," she accuses me softly, "You do. You do love me, Michael! Oh God, I almost believed you a second ago!"

I stumble back a step as she advances on me. "No! No," I protest a little wildly, "You're just seeing what you want to see!"

"Nope. I'm not falling for it again. I can see right through you, Michael Cordero, the most horrible liar who has ever lived! You love me. Why can't you say it? Say the words. Say you love me."

"I can't!"

"Why?"

"Because it will ruin everything!"

She stops short and regards me with a curious cock of her head. "Since when did you become so melodramatic?"

"Since I realized that we're not the only ones who will be impacted here." While nothing else I've said to her thus far has managed to dissuade her, this time she is shaken into immobility. "We need to think about how us being together will affect Mateo and Lorena…and Rafael. We can't just be together and not think about the consequences."

I'm surprised when she actually takes a moment to consider my words. "Okay. I see your point but how are we doing Lorena and Rafael any favors by pretending we don't have feelings for each other?"

"How are we doing ourselves any favors by being together when we haven't resolved our feelings for other people?"

I can tell that I've struck a nerve with that argument. She flails around verbally in search of an appropriate response. Finally, when she speaks again, I know it's because she's figured out a way to reason her way around my point. "Of course my relationship with Rafael is complicated," she acknowledges, "He's one of my best friends, the father of my child. We've had an off and on relationship for more than half a decade."

"Exactly! He's always going to be in your life, Jane, and he should be. I get that but I don't think I could live with that. Maybe I was okay with it before but not now, not with everything going on with me."

Her brows snap together in a frown, her uncertainty suddenly replaced with concern. "Why? What's going on with you, Michael? Has something happened?"

I suppress a self-deprecating groan and make a feeble attempt to backpedal. "Nothing's wrong," I brazen, "I was speaking in general."

"You really are a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong."

Rather than argue, I set aside my armful of branches and sink down onto the mossy surface of a fallen tree limb. I wipe my damp palms against my shorts before I begin. "I'm starting to have dreams about where I was after I was kidnapped."

Jane eases down beside me. "What kind of dreams?" she asks in a shaky tone.

"I'm in a cell," I recount and, as I do, I'm no longer seated there with her but back in that horrible prison. "It's very small, barely enough room for me and a tiny bed. It's dark and dank. There are no windows, no ventilation of any kind so it's hot and there's a musty smell that hangs in the air all the time. Everything is filthy. The cell. The bed. Me. And I want out of there so badly. I need to get out of there because I want to get back to you and Mateo and my family but no matter how much I scream for help, no one ever comes for me."

"Oh my God, Michael…"

"I don't know if it's real but it feels real. It feels terrifying."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispers mournfully, "If I had known I would have…"

"You would have what?" I challenge in a wry tone, "Given me space? Badgered me less?"

She bites back a smile. "Maybe." When she reaches over to take my hand into her own I don't resist her efforts. In fact, I gratefully intertwine my fingers with hers. "Please don't keep shutting me out. I want to help you. Let me help you."

"I want to. I really want to, Jane, but I feel like that's begging for trouble."

I'm so distracted by the gentle circles she's rubbing against my hand with the pad of her thumb that I completely miss her next words to me. She has to repeat them. "I said, if you can figure out how you feel about Lorena and I can figure out my feelings for Rafael, what comes next for us?"

"There's still Mateo, Jane," I argue, "We have to think about him."

"I know."

I trace the ridge of her knuckles with my index finger. "Maybe…maybe we're better off as friends."

But as I look down at our linked fingers and feel those familiar flutters of longing unfurl in my belly, I have a very difficult time believing that. When I look at Jane again, I can see that she's having a hard time believing it too. I'm thinking I might have to give into the impulse to kiss her when Mateo and Rafael suddenly emerge from the trees and startle us apart. I can tell by Rafael's expression that we didn't separate soon enough.

"I thought you were supposed to be collecting firewood," he observes.

"We were," I reply lightly, stooping to retrieve my bundle of branches, "Got sidetracked is all."

"Does that mean we can make S'mores now?" Mateo pipes excitedly.

"You bet, buddy!" I exclaim, deliberately ignoring the glare Rafael currently has leveled at me, "Come on! Let's hurry back to camp so we can get started!"

As I quickly usher him back through the trees, I can feel the intensity of both Jane and Rafael's gazes burning into my back.