Page 38 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

I looked toward Naija. “I’ll meet you outside. Please get the car ready.”

Naija gave me a quick nod and slipped past him.

Cassian’s eyes followed her until the door closed behind her. Then his attention returned to me, suspicion immediately sharpening his features.

“Where’s Felicity?” I asked.

He looked momentarily puzzled. “Didn’t she leave hours ago?”

“Yeah, but she’s back, isn’t she?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her.”

I frowned. “Then how did—”

My gaze dropped to the bowl.

The fruit had been cut with the same careful consistency I’d noticed every day since waking up. Identical pieces. Identical thickness. Even the strawberries had been sliced into neat, almost absurdly perfect halves.

I’d noticed the pattern before.

I’d just never stopped to wonder who was responsible for it.

My eyes lifted slowly to Cassian.

He’d been cutting my fruit.

The man who had been lurking outside my hospital room for the past two weeks had also been sitting somewhere nearby, taking the time to cut my fruit into perfectly uniform pieces.

How had I never made that connection?

“Never mind,” I murmured, looking back at the bowl.

His gaze sharpened as it moved over me, taking in my clothes before dropping to the bag I’d packed. “Why did you tell Naija to get the car ready? And why are you dressed like that?”

“Dressed like what?”

“Like you’re going to work.”

“Because I am.”

He stared at me, momentarily at a loss for words before his voice sharpened. “Absolutely not. You need to rest. That’s why we’re going home, so I can take care of you.”

I ignored the protest in his voice and gave my bag one final check, making sure I had everything I needed. “I’ll feel better once I know what’s happening at work. And how, exactly, are you planning to take care of me? Don’t you have a company to run?”

“I cleared my schedule.” His answer came immediately, clearly prepared for the objection. “I’ll work from home. I’ll only step in when they actually need me. I’ll be there for you.”

I shook my head and reached for my blazer. “You don’t have to be. I can take care of myself.”

“It is my job to take care of you.” The words came out firmer than before, almost defensive.

I slipped one arm into my blazer, then the other. “Well, congratulations. You can retire from the position.”

His eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, his gaze fell to my bag again. “When did you even manage all this?” His voice changed, suspicion creeping in. “Is that why Felicity asked me to take her to the house? She said you wanted some personal things…”

Understanding flashed across his face, followed immediately by anger. “You planned this. You sent me away so you could do this behind my back.”

A short, sharp laugh escaped me. “Behind your back? You make it sound like I was plotting some elaborate escape instead of making a decision about my own life.”