Page 205 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

I could feel my throat closing against it, my body rejecting the sugar in a way that was completely involuntary. I forced myself to swallow.

It took everything I had.

A bottle of water appeared in front of my face.

I grabbed it, twisted the cap, and drank half of it in one go. Then the rest.

When I finally lowered it, she was eating the cupcake like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t noticed me struggling. Like she hadn’t already solved the problem before I could even think to ask.

I hadn’t seen her move.

I hadn’t seen her reach for the bottle.

She did things like this.

All the time.

After the paintball match, when we’d all gone out to eat, our food came last. The waiter had set it down with a flourish, and I’d watched in slow motion as two sauces that should never touch merged into one ugly, congealed puddle. Liam had seen it. Had been stifling a laugh behind his hand.

I’d glared at him, already mentally calculating how to salvage the meal, how to eat around it, how to pretend it didn’t matter.

And then Alessia had swapped our plates.

Mid-conversation with Felicity, not missing a beat, she’d slid her untouched meal in front of me and taken my ruined one for herself. I’d sat there staring at her, at the plate, at her, for so long that Liam had to kick me under the table to get me to move.

I’d spent the rest of that meal trying to decide if proposing right there in the middle of the restaurant would have been an overreaction.

I wondered if she knew what she was doing.

It felt deliberate. Like she was trying to bewitch me, undo me, keep me off-balance. Make sure I never stopped falling.

She didn’t need to.

She just needed to breathe, and I’d be at her feet.

But she did it anyway.

She kept doing the small things, the quiet things, the things that said I see you without ever having to speak.

She did them for me.

And every time, I melted a little more.

“So,” she said, leaning back against the couch, “you are one of those people who doesn’t like dessert.”

“No.” My voice came out rougher than I intended. I cleared my throat. “I just don’t like it when it’s too sweet. As little sugar as possible.”

She tilted her head, considering me. “A not-so-sweet dessert.” A smile tugged at her lips. “You really are something, Cassian.”

I looked down at my hands, then back at her. “I wanted to share it with you. I just can’t.”

She waved her spoon, dismissive. “You shouldn’t force yourself to do something you’re not comfortable with.” Her eyes flicked to the remaining cupcake, then back to me, bright with mischief. “Besides. No complaints from me.” She winked. “More for me.”

She smiled.

My eyes stayed on her mouth, on the curve of her lips, on the way she looked when she was happy without trying to hide it.

She wasn’t trying to bewitch me.