I forced a laugh, trying to match the lightness in the room while my insides twisted with anxiety. Everyone was acting so normal, so comfortable.
The day dragged on. People came and went. Sarah fussed over me endlessly, and I let her because pushing her away would raise questions. Noah told me stories about Knox’s childhood, and I laughed at the right moments. Hunt kept making inappropriate jokes, and I smiled along even though I was cataloguing every person in the room.
The twins refused to leave my side. Thea chattered nonstop about everything I’d missed, and I nodded and hummed as I heard about her new favorite color and Uncle Hunt’s secret breakfast crimes.
“You just told everyone,” Rowan pointed out when she mentioned the ice cream.
“It doesn’t count if Mommy doesn’t remember,” Thea reasoned.
“That’s not how secrets work.”
“Yes it is!”
“No it’s not!”
I watched them bicker with an ache in my chest. I remembered I loved them. I could feel it, deep in my bones, an instinctive,fierce love that transcended memory, even if I was still awkward as hell.
Through it all, Knox never left my side. His hand stayed on my arm, my shoulder, my back. Always touching, always present. When I shifted, he shifted with me. When I needed water, he was already handing me a glass. When I yawned, he was fluffing my pillows before I could ask.
My body relaxed even more under his attention.
By evening, I was exhausted. My brain hurt from trying to process so much information. My body hurt from being awake and moving after a month of stillness. My heart hurt from looking at faces I should know and feeling confusion instead of recognition.
Knox must have sensed my fatigue, because he stood up and cleared his throat.
“Alright, everyone out. Lina needs to rest.”
“But Daddy-” Thea started.
“No buts. Mommy is tired. You can come back first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Promise?” Rowan asked, his serious eyes fixed on Knox.
“Promise.”
The twins clung to me, and I held them because letting go felt wrong. Thea’s small arms squeezed my neck. Rowan’s head pressed against my shoulder. They smelled familiar somehow, a scent that tugged at memories I couldn’t access.
Knox gently extracted them, kissing both their foreheads before handing them off to Noah.
“I love you, Mommy,” Thea said as Noah carried her toward the door.
“I love you too, Mommy,” Rowan echoed.
“I love you both,” I whispered.
The words felt true.
Sarah was the last to leave. She kissed my forehead, squeezed my hands, and whispered, “You’re going to be just fine, sweetheart. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
I smiled and nodded because that was all I could do.
The door clicked shut behind her. The machines beeped steadily in the new silence. And I became acutely aware that Knox hadn’t moved, that he was still sitting on my bed with his hand covering mine, that he was watching me with those intense gray eyes that seemed to see straight through my carefully constructed facade.
My heart rate picked up. My palms grew sweaty. I was alone with a stranger who claimed to love me, in a hospital room where someone had tried to hurt me, with no memories to tell me if I was safe.
I had never felt more vulnerable in my life.
18
