Page 179 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

“You entered my life and altered my brain,” he whispered against my skin. “Altered it in a way that now I’m nothing but yours.” He smiled, small, sad and hopeful all at once. “Every stupid, annoying, irritating, selfish, idiotic part of me.” He squeezed my hand. “I’m all yours. To do whatever you want with.”

I could feel my heartbeat everywhere. In my throat. In my temples. In the palm he was still holding against his face. My mind scrambled, searching for the right reaction, the right feeling, the right words. There were none. Just the pounding of my blood and the weight of his words.

“Maybe the noble thing to do here would be to let you go. But as it turns out, I am not noble. At all.” He tightened his hold on my hand. “I don’t want to let you go. I can’t. I want to be better. Better than before. I want to become someone you deserve.” His eyes held mine, burning with everything he couldn’t say in words. “But I will not let you go.”

He lowered our hands, but didn’t let go. His fingers stayed wrapped around mine.

“I don’t want anything in return.” He winced. “No, actually, that’s a lie.” He looked to the side, gathering himself, then back to me. “When I started talking, all I wanted was for you to know what I feel. Where I stand when it comes to us. I didn’t expect anything back. I didn’t want to pressure you or corner you.” His thumb traced a slow path across my knuckles. “But I’d be lying if I said I don’t want anything.”

He held my gaze, and when he spoke again, his voice was small. Hopeful. Fragile.

“Can you give me a chance, Alessia?” He swallowed. “Just one. A little one. Just to get to know me. Just to see if I can make you happy again.”

Mrs. Garcia’s words echoed in my mind. Someone threw me a life jacket. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t gotten that chance.

If I gave him a chance, maybe he’d make me happy again.

But he could make me sad again, too.

Something in my expression must have shifted, because his eyes widened.

“You don’t have to decide right now!” The words rushed out of him, panicked. He looked around, suddenly aware of where we were. “Shit. I was cornering you. I’m sorry.” He took a step back. His hand fell from mine.

Mine stayed in the air a moment longer than it should have.

His hands were very warm.

I lowered my arm slowly and looked at him. He stood a few feet away, hands at his sides.

He searched my face, reading every micro-expression, every flicker of feeling. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he repeated softly. “You can take as much time as you want.”

He paused, glancing at his watch. His lips moved silently as he counted on his fingers—one, two, three, four—and looked back at me, utterly serious. “Yeah. You have exactly my entire life to decide what you want to do with me. If you want to keep me. Or throw me away.”

The words hit me somewhere unexpected—deep, tender, raw. My eyes burned. I blinked, hard, forcing the moisture away.

He noticed. Of course he noticed.

“I noticed you didn’t stomp on my feet when we were dancing.” His voice was gentle, teasing. “Do you want to do it now? Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

A laugh bubbled out of me, unexpected. “You really are something.”

His smile widened, then softened into something more serious. “I’m serious, Alessia. Take all the time you need.” He held my gaze, earnest and open. “I will be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Something in his earnestness, his patience, his impossible hope, made me nod. Just once. Small. But real.

I turned and slid into the car. “Bye, Cassian.”

He closed the door. And then he stood there, watching me through the glass.

The car began to move.

And then—so slowly I almost missed it—his hand lifted.

The car picked up speed. My eyes stayed locked on him, on that slowly rising hand. His hands moved, spelling something in the space between us.

His eyes never left mine.

And then the car sped away, carrying me into the night, leaving him standing there alone.