His mistaken Identity

Chapter 12

Despite his earlier conviction that they both needed food before they could attempt to sort out whatever was going on, Christopher found that his stomach was tied in so many knots he couldn’t get anything into it. It wasn’t just his stomach but his throat that would probably choke if he tried to swallow anything.

He pushed the seemingly appetizing food around his plate with his fork for a few more minutes before looking up at the woman seated on the other side of the table.

Unlike him, it seemed nothing could hinder her from inhaling the food off her plate. Christopher had to wonder if the woman had an extra set of teeth at the back of her throat to explain how fast she forked food into her mouth.

Not that he wasn’t glad she was eating, but it made him wonder when was the last time she’d had a decent meal. And maybe a hot bath as well. She didn’t exactly look filthy, but she also didn’t appear like someone with a lot of resources at her disposal.

“Where are you staying?” The question flew out of his mouth before he even thought it through.

A full fork of stir-fried vegetables froze halfway to her mouth. She looked up and glared at him as though pissed he had interrupted her meal. Christopher kind of thought her stomach could probably do with a breather or it risked sending everything back up in protest.

It took her a second of looking between him and her fork, as though mentally debating which of the two deserved her attention. Then she lowered the fork a fraction and asked in an irritated tone. “Why do you ask?”

Christopher bit back the smile that threatened to curve his lips. He shrugged. “I am just curious.”

She finally lowered her fork back onto her plate without eating the food. Not looking very pleased about it, either. Or perhaps it was his question that made her lose her appetite, he thought.

“You are curious to know where we are sleeping after you practically left us out in the cold?”

Christopher sighed, safely concluding it was his question that soured the food’s appeal. He pushed his full plate away since it was obvious he wouldn’t be eating it and said, “Let us not go there again. There is clearly a misunderstanding here. I am not the man you think I am. I can assure you that I have never met you before in my life. So please, refrain from accusing me and insulting me.”

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, then tilted her head and asked, “Did you lose your memory after the accident?”

In Jane’s mind, that would be the only explanation for Enock continuously denying knowledge of her and their son. The man sure looked convinced by the lies he was telling her. But she knew the truth.

“No. And I haven’t been in any accidents… car or otherwise… so no memory loss. I can tell you every detail of my life from the time my memory started to form as a child.”

Jane exhaled and shook her head. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Tony was asleep, and she had laid him down on the couch in the living room. Suddenly, sleep looked like an excellent idea. She didn’t want to deal with any of it anymore. At least not today. The denials and lies could only be stomached for so long before they poisoned her. And Jane knew she would break sooner or later. She didn’t want that to happen in front of him.

“I need to leave,” she announced abruptly. She looked at her half-eaten meal and wondered if it would be strange if she finished eating before she left. God only knew when she would have such a meal again. As much as it pained her to acknowledge, the food was actually good. Although she couldn’t tell him that even with a knife to her neck. Interrupted by his voice, she snapped out of her thoughts.

“To where? You haven’t told me where you are staying? In fact, we haven’t even covered how you got away from the people who had kidnapped the both of you. Are you even safe?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him where to shove his concern after being the one who caused it all. But she settled for just glaring at him, wishing her eyes had the power to rip the skin from his flesh.

Christopher rubbed the back of his neck. God help him, he thought with exasperation. He not only needed a high dose of patience, but he also needed another for strength. “Look, here is what I suggest… I have a spare room here in the house. You and your son can use it for the night, then we can review the situation in the morning.”

“You must be joking.”

“I am actually very serious,” Christopher answered in a firm voice. “I am exhausted. It was a long day and all this…” He waved his hand between them to elaborate on the obvious. “All this is beginning to give me a terrible migraine. So, unless you want to step out of this house and leave without the answers you clearly came searching for… I suggest you begin to cooperate with me.”

When she still didn’t say a word, he added, “For God’s sake, it’s only a warm, safe bed to spend the night.”

***

Jane woke up with a start. She looked around the room, disoriented for a moment before she remembered the events of a few hours before.

I’m safe, she reminded herself, and took a deep breath to calm her galloping heart. After almost a minute, she finally sighed and closed her eyes for another minute before checking on Tony. Thankfully, her son was peacefully asleep. He didn’t even stir when she readjusted the blankets around his small body.

She sat there in deep contemplation, just watching the little boy sleep without a care in the world. Then she realized she was very thirsty. Although she loathed the idea of leaving the guest room and heading to the kitchen for water, she had little choice.

Slowly, she got out of bed and made her way to the door. She pressed her ear against the wood to listen for any activity before she stepped out. The last thing she wanted to do was to run into Enock or Christopher, whatever the man wanted to call himself.

Hearing nothing but the quiet hum of a sleeping house, she finally carefully opened the door and tiptoed to the kitchen like a thief.

Her heart nearly jumped out of her mouth when she rounded the corner and came face to face with the man she was desperately trying to avoid. He was seated in the dark in the middle of the kitchen. But she wasn’t the only one spooked.

“Jesus! What..” Christopher shook his head and immediately stood up to turn on the lights. The kitchen was flooded with artificial light a few seconds later. “What are you doing?” he finally asked.

Jane wished he hadn’t turned on the lights. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she realized he was only dressed in a pair of black boxers that stretched around his lean waist and firm thighs like a second skin. And he seemed very comfortable, or he had forgotten he was nearly naked, because the man returned to the stool she had found him seated on and resumed his position. That only served to bring a lot of body parts into focus.

Jane quickly cleared her dry throat and looked away. She could remember Enock’s body very well. And could have done without the reminder. She had known every inch of him and had explored him with her hands and tongue many times. Involuntarily, as though her eyes were acting of their own accord, she gave the body in front of her another glance. The muscles looked firmer than she remembered.

Almost immediately, she gave herself a mental slap, cleared her throat again, and forced her eyes to land on the water dispenser against the wall. “I… I was thirsty.”

“Oh. Right. Ok… let me get you a glass.”

Before she could protest, he was up and crossing the kitchen to get the glass. Jane tried not to look. Honestly, she did.

“Thank you,” she managed to croak out after a beat.

“No problem.” He handed her the glass and took his seat again.

Jane filled the glass and emptied it in one go before refilling it again.

“Wow, you were very thirsty,” Christopher murmured.

The comment made Jane blush. She lowered the second glass half full and wiped her mouth with the back of her free hand. She looked at the wall clock and saw that it was a quarter to one in the morning. Frowning, she turned back to the man in the room.

“You couldn’t sleep?”

Christopher was surprised by the question, but he quickly recovered. “Uhm… ya. It’s kind of hard to sleep on an empty stomach.” Not to mention a million and one questions going through his mind, but he didn’t voice that part.

Jane remembered the guy had barely touched his food earlier when they ate. Her frown deepened. She couldn’t see any food in front of him or on the stove. “Are you debating what to eat?”

“What?... Oh.” He seemed to realize where her question had generated from. He lifted a spoon she hadn’t seen. “I was already eating.”

To Jane’s shock, the man pulled a container from the edge of the kitchen island. It was a peanut butter container, almost half empty. Her eyes widened. “You are eating that?”

As though to prove a point, the man dug his spoon into the container, removed it full of peanut butter, and proceeded to put the whole thing in his mouth.

Jane couldn’t find her voice for a long moment. He swallowed three more spoons before the words finally flew out of her mouth.

“You hate peanut butter.”

Christopher paused with a spoon full halfway to his mouth. “Excuse me?”

“You hate peanut butter. You never went anywhere near the stuff. Not even on bread,” she said quietly, a touch of confusion in her tone.

Christopher stood up, placed the half-eaten container on the kitchen island together with his spoon, and walked over to the kitchen unit that covered the walls. He looked at her pointedly, then opened one of the cabinets and stepped back so she had a perfect view of the inside.

Jane looked at the now-opened kitchen cabinet and frowned. All three shelves were filled with containers of peanut butter. It would have been almost funny that a man could buy so many containers of the stuff and align them as if in a grocery shop if she thought any part of the situation she was in actually deserved humor.

Christopher folded his arms over his bare chest. “I practically live on the stuff.”

She shook her head, looking at the containers of peanut butter and then at the man. “But you don’t. You hate it.”

He wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, him or herself. “I have eaten it all my life.”