“Insensitive?”
“No.”
“Did he ask anything inappropriate?”
“You.”
I stopped.
“What about me?”
“How it felt when I didn’t know who you were.”
The room quieted.
Noah watched the softened edge of the cookie.
“What did you say?” Caleb asked.
“That forgetting him was worse than the physical injuries.”
My throat closed.
Noah looked at me.
“I told him memory loss wasn’t only the loss of events. It was losing the feelings that belonged to them. Knowing a person mattered without being able to reach the reason.”
The cookie broke and dropped into his coffee.
He stared at it.
Owen handed him a spoon.
Noah fished out the soggy piece.
“I also said that falling in love with Reid again was the only part of recovery I’d willingly repeat.”
Caleb turned away suspiciously quickly.
Owen pressed a palm to his chest.
“I have suffered a workplace injury.”
“Be quiet,” Noah said.
I rested my hand on the back of his neck.
“Thank you.”
“For upsetting Owen?”
“For choosing me where other people could hear.”
His gaze warmed.
“That matters to you?”
“Yes.”
