I cup her face, staring into her eyes. “Stay the night.”
“Where is the question?”
“It wasn’t intended as one.”
She rolls her eyes at me.
“Stop doing that. It makes my palms itch,” I groan low.
Her mouth opens in fake outrage. “Scandalous.”
“Tempting.” I smirk.
“I think my breathing tempts you.”
True. The grin remains plastered on my face for the entire ride home.
The car comes to a stop in the underground garage, the driver climbing out discreetly and offering much-coveted privacy.
“I’m sorry for ruining such a special night.”
“You made it bearable, for the first time.”
“What you do is great.”
Fisting my hands at my sides, I shut my eyes for a moment, unwavering determination spreading through me. “If I could eradicate this damn sickness, I would.”
She palms my curled hand, and it opens immediately. “What was your mother like?” she asks, looking at me with compassion in her eyes.
“She was incredible. An inspiration. The best mother and wife. She was passionate about helping the less fortunate.”
“She sounds like a great person.”
I let out a noncommittal sound. She loved Zara. Those two were always brainstorming ideas. She wanted nothing to do with the arms-dealing business, yet she thrived because everything she touched, she turned into something greater.
She was there when my mom took her last breath, holding my hand and crying softly as my mother said, “Take care of each other. Never forget your way back. Let love guide you.”
The past rolls over me, flattening my insides into a battered mess.
She brushes her fingers along my face before palming my cheek, and I lean into her soothing touch. “I have amnesia.”
My eyes widen, not expecting this moment of sincerity. My opening up leads to her doing the same. I keep quiet, giving her a few moments to gather her thoughts.
She smiles, a broken one. “It’s unsettling… your words, your actions, suggest familiarity, as if you know me.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t know.” She offers me an apologetic glance. “It’s confusing.”
“What happened?” I ask, trying to distract her from spiraling.
I doubt there will ever be a suitable moment to tell her about our shared past. The chance to build something unbreakable on the ashes this time is too good not to seize.
“From what I know, I got into an accident, suffered a brain injury, and lost a part of my life.”
“You can choose to look ahead or back, but you can’t do both.”
She fidgets with the ring. “It’s easy when you remember the past.”
