"One of many." I pulled her closer, tucking her against my chest, her head fitting perfectly on my shoulder. "Stay with me tonight. Right here. I don't want to let go of you yet."
"I wasn't planning on going anywhere."
We shifted on the couch, rearranging ourselves until we were tangled together under the blanket, her body warm against mine, my good arm wrapped around her waist. The television had long since gone dark, the room lit only by the faint glow of streetlights through the curtains.
"Miles?"
"Hmm?"
"What's the first thing you want to do? Now that you remember everything?"
I thought about it. About the memories that had returned, and the ones we still had to make. About the life stretching out ahead of us, uncertain, yes, but no longer terrifying. Not with her beside me.
"I want to take you back to the river," I said quietly. "To the spot where we had our first kiss. Where I tried to push you away, and you refused to go."
"Why there?"
"Because that's where everything changed." I pressed a kiss to her hair. "That's where you made me believe I was worth fighting for. I want to go back there and... I don't know. Thank it. Thank you. Start fresh now that I remember how much I loved you, again."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she lifted her head, her eyes searching mine in the darkness.
"That's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."
"I think you need to update that record. I keep breaking it."
She laughed and kissed me again, soft and lingering and full of promise.
We fell asleep like that, tangled together on the couch, her hand in mine, her heartbeat steady against my chest. The memories played behind my closed eyes like a movie I never wanted to end, every moment we'd shared, every kiss, every fight, every laugh. All of it was mine again. All of it was ours.
The last thing I thought before sleep pulled me under was that I needed to find the perfect way to show her what she meant to me. Something that matched the magnitude of what we'd been through. Something worthy of the woman who had refused to let me go, even when I'd forgotten why I was worth holding onto.
I had an idea forming. A plan taking shape in the spaces between waking and dreaming.
The river. The oak tree. The place where our story had begun twice already.
Maybe it was time to begin a new chapter there.
One that would last forever.
18.Miles
The ring had been in my pocket for twelve days when Charlotte finally told me her secret.
We'd built something beautiful in the months since my memories returned, a rhythm, a partnership, a life that felt more real than anything I'd ever known.
I worked from home now, consulting on family law cases via video calls, my tremor visible but manageable. Charlotte had cut back her hospital shifts to spend more time with me, though she'd never admit that was the reason.
"You look different," David said during our Tuesday call, squinting at his screen. "Good different. But different."
"I have Parkinson's," I told him, the words coming easily now. "Early onset. I'm managing it with medication and therapy. Charlotte helps me stay on track."
"Charlotte?"
"My fiancée." The word wasn't technically accurate yet, but it would be soon. "I'm doing fine, actually."
David's eyebrows rose, but he didn't push. We finished discussing the Henderson case, and I closed my laptop feeling lighter than I had in years. No more hiding. No more pretending. Just the truth, simple and unashamed.
That evening, Charlotte and I cooked dinner together, pasta with vegetables, one of our staples. She moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, seasoning the sauce while I chopped onions with my left hand. The tremor in my right hand was quiet tonight, barely noticeable.
