Page 68 of Fractured Memories

“Good morning,” I rumble, the words coming out husky.

Her lips twitch, and her gaze re-focuses on me. “Morning.”

Lifting a hand, I stroke a thumb between her brows and down her nose. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She looks away.

Sliding my thumb down to pinch her chin, I tilt her face back up to me. “Try again.”

Surprisingly, Eden looks almost nervous. It makes me feel a little uncertain as she shifts up on her elbow to look at me, pushing her thick hair out of the way. “I don’t think I am ever going to remember our past.”

My jaw flexes at that. Not because of Eden. I understand we need to be able to talk about what happened, even if I hate knowing there are pieces of her still missing.

But the reminder sends rage through me because we still haven’t found any of the bastards that took her or even how they did so. I have no clue what they did to steal her memories, either, and knowing that I still have too few answers makes it difficult to face what happened.

She slides her hand up from my chest to brush along my thick scruff, dragging my focus back to her. “But I don’t want to lose those parts of us.”

I relax as her words catch me off guard. “Okay,” I whisper.

Eden huffs, and I know that having an actual conversation like this is hard for her, like it is for me. It must be something that is really getting under her skin because I can see her internal war play out on her face.

In the end, she pushes herself to keep going.

“There are moments when I see or do something that just feels right. Like going to the cages last night.” Her thumb brushes over my jaw in slow movements. “And I want more of those.”

“Eden, anything you want to do or anywhere you want to go, tell me. I’ll give it to you.” I thought I had made that clear. Maybe not in so many words, but I’ve never denied Eden anything.

Maybe we still aren’t at a point that she can understand my actions as easily as she once did. The thought makes my chest tight, and I shove that away.

“What if I want…” Her head tilts, eyes meeting mine. “To know more about you?”

That is more difficult for me. I’m terrible at sharing, and I hate being vulnerable. Both things that I’m certain she knows, which is why she’s being so careful approaching the subject.

But I want her to know me again. It took me almost two years to get to where we are now. I don’t want to wait that long again.

Which means I have to go through the agonizing torture of actually answering her questions. Of talking about myself. Of maybe even admitting I have…feelings.

Oh, fuck. I think I need whiskey for this.

Without a word, I shift up, sliding out from underneath Eden. A startled noise slips out from her as I do, and I can feel her eyes following after me. “Is this your way of telling me to fuck off?”

Anger laces her tone, but it’s familiar. It eases some of the tension in my muscles. Still, I go to the bar against the far side of the wall and pour two glasses.

“This is my way of saying that I’m not strong enough to have that conversation sober.” I settle back in my spot and offer her a glass, which she accepts. I take a sip before nodding, dropping my head back against the headboard. “You want answers from me? I’ll give them to you.” I glance over at Eden, who has settled on the pillows, sheets drawn up around her chest. “Just know that talking has never been my thing.”

She chuckles. “I don’t think it’s mine, either.” She takes a sip of her whiskey.

I brush a strand of hair back from her face. “Not in my experience.” That has her lips twitching. “What do you want to know?”

I knew that at some point, we’d need to do this. After taking her to the place we met last night and her kissing me for the first time since she went missing, I’m not surprised that she is looking for clarity today. She hasn’t been as resistant to being my wife, but my actions alone can only earn me so much of her heart.

I want the whole thing back.

“You grew up here?” Her tone is light, like she thinks that will be an easy question.

I grunt, tipping the glass up and swallowing half of it. I should have brought the bottle back with me. “Yeah.”

“Kieran.” She narrows her eyes at me, but I know it’s more playful than angry. “More words.”