He stops dead.
Like I hit him.Like I reached into his chest and tore something out.
His face goes still.Too still.Then, quietly—so quietly I almost miss it—he says:
“Yeah, sunshine.”His voice cracks.“You know me.”
I blink, confusion swirling.“I’m sorry.I don’t, I don’t remember.”
His eyes close for a split second, pain cutting through him like a blade.When he opens them again, something fierce, desperate, and broken flickers there.
The nurse touches my arm gently.“Kelly, you sustained a head injury.It’s possible you’re experiencing temporary memory loss.”
Memory loss.
My chest tightens.My breathing turns shallow again.
The man takes a small step forward, but stops when the nurse lifts a hand.
“Just tell me she’s okay,” he murmurs.
The nurse nods.“Physically, she’s stable.We are still assessing the extent of her injuries.”
He lets out a breath, shoulders sagging in relief — but his eyes never leave mine.
I try again.“Who… who are you?”
He swallows hard.“I’m Ledger.”
The name hits me like a foreign sound.Heavy.Loaded.Important.Except I don’t know why.I don’t know him.
But he looks at me like I’m his whole world.
And I feel deep in the hollow center of my chest that losing my memories might not be the worst part.
The worst part might be forgetting him.Whoever he was to me…Whoever I was to him… That connection is gone.
His voice breaks as he says, “I’m here.I won’t leave.”
And even though I don’t know him, don’t remember him , something warm flickers low inside me.
A strange pull.
Familiar.
Wrong.
Right.
Everything all at once.
My voice is small.“I’m scared.”
His jaw tightens, and for a second he looks like he’s fighting his own damn heartbeat.“You’re safe,” he says, stepping closer.“I promise.”
But promises from strangers are dangerous things.
And right now?
