Page 103 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

Her palm was warm.

Mine was freezing.

Her gaze lifted to meet mine.

“It was,” she said, searching for the right word. “…something, knowing you, Cassian.”

My eyes crinkled with a sad smile. “At least you’re not doing the Barbie: A Fairy Secret thing anymore.”

She froze.

Her hand went slack in mine.

“What?”

I shrugged. “I know that’s what you were doing. Calling me ‘bro’ and everything—anything but my name. It was a little different from the movie, I’ll give you that. Took me a while to catch on.”

Her eyes widened.

“How do you know about that movie?”

I frowned for a second.

Then I remembered.

The memory was mine alone now.

“Before my grandmother passed away, her health was declining. I stayed with her as much as I could. For a long time, she was too tired to do much of anything…” I smiled softly. “Until we stumbled upon the Barbie movies.”

I glanced down at our joined hands.

“We started with Fairytopia,” I continued. “And she became completely captivated. It was like they brought a light back into her eyes. We ended up watching every one we could find.”

My smile faded into something quieter.

“She was the kindest soul, and I didn’t get nearly enough time with her. But in her final days, she was smiling. Those movies gave her that.”

When I looked back at Alessia, her expression had softened. There was a deep, sad understanding in her eyes.

“I’m glad she found that joy,” she said, offering me a small, gentle smile.

My own smile warmed with the memory.

“Me too.”

We stayed like that for another second, suspended in the quiet.

Then she said, “Goodbye, Cassian.”

I love you.

The words were a scream in my soul, but I didn’t say them. I just nodded and let her hand slip from mine.

This time, the words didn’t fail me because of some mental block. They failed because I chose to hold them back. Even if I could have spoken them perfectly, I would have stayed silent.

She didn’t want my love anymore.

And forcing my love on her when she had made it clear she didn’t want it would have been the cruelest, most selfish thing I could do.