Needing to hold on to something, I grip his hand. “What’s happening to me, Dante?”
“Hey.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back. “It’s nothing to stress about. You hit your head and suffered a shock.”
I can hear the lie in his words. That’s not what he believes. I know him too well.
Rubbing his finger just below the broken skin of my knuckles, he says, “We’ll figure it out.”
At that, I relax a little. As long as Dante is with me, I’m safe. But then I tense again. “Noah?”
“You remember him?” he asks with a mixture of hope and surprise.
“Yes.” Tears spring into my eyes. “How can I not?”
And then everything inside me falls apart… because Noah is four years old.
“No.” I gasp, clinging to Dante as the truth cuts through me like a blunt knife. I lost a chunk of my life. “Four years.”
What the hell happened to me? Why can’t I remember anything between that night and now? I don’t remember being pregnant. I remember Noah, Dante, and my family and friends but nothing about our wedding or Noah’s birth.
“Hush, darling.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and kisses me on the lips. “I’ll get you the best doctors. We’ll fix this.”
On the verge of hysteria, I ask, “What if we can’t?”
His smile stretches, exposing his dimple. “Then fuck it. We’ll live with it. You’ll get to know me all over again.”
Some of my anguish subsides. Not making a big deal out of what’s wrong with me helps. It gives me hope that he’ll stay with me, no matter what. Even if we can’t fix this, he won’t abandon me.
A tear slips free and rolls over my cheek. “I didn’t forget you.” If there’s one truth I know, it’s this. “I love you too much.”
Instead of seeming happy about that, he appears as if I’ve driven a stake through his heart.
He cups my face in an oddly regretful manner. “I know.”
A need to reassure him makes me say, “I don’t need to get to know you. I know who you are.”
He stiffens. The gesture is slight, but I notice it. Despite his vow to support me, he’s not pleased with the situation or my condition.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not sure what I’m apologizing for.
The lines of his handsome face harden. “Don’t you dare apologize for something that’s not your fault.”
“Are you angry?”
He stands up too quickly, almost as if he needs to put distance between us, letting go of my hand in the process. “How can you even ask me that?”
“I feel…” I bite my lip. “Lost.” Staring up at him, I admit, “Scared.”
“You have nothing to fear as long as you have me. You’ll get through this.” His jaw sets with determination. “I’ll see to that.”
I let the certainty in his voice soothe me, fighting hard not to have another panic attack like earlier. Not remembering is terrifying. If I let it, the anguish will crush me, so I try to focus only on Noah for now. I have to take things one step at a time until I can figure this out. Holding on to that thought, I take a few deep breaths.
It works. I manage to calm myself even though that’s only because I’m not thinking about the magnitude of the reality. I only think about Noah.
“Where is he?” I wrap my fingers around Dante’s hand where it’s clenched at his side. “I want to see Noah.”
His expression softens. “He hasn’t stopped asking for you.” He studies me as he says, “Jasper and Emily are here too.”
“How kind of them to have come.”
