Page 45 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

But I didn’t.

Because every part of it was a lie. Her tone was a performance, her expression a carefully crafted mask, and her words nothing but empty air.

I didn’t have my memories, but my instincts hadn’t abandoned me. Every nerve in my body seemed to recoil from her, leaving behind a deep, inexplicable sense of unease. I couldn’t explain why, but I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I didn’t like this woman.

And judging by the brief hardening of her eyes whenever she thought I wasn’t looking, the feeling was very much mutual.

So I said nothing. I simply sidestepped her and walked into my house, leaving her and her performance on the doorstep.

“Who is it—” Cassian appeared in the hallway, the rest of the question dying on his lips the instant his eyes landed on me. He stopped so abruptly it was almost comical, surprise flashing across his face before it gave way to something far softer.

I gave him a smile so sweet it practically dripped poison. “Your wife.”

And immediately wanted to throw up.

Cassian, however, looked like I’d just handed him the best news of his life. Warmth flooded his eyes as he crossed the space between us before I could react, one hand reaching for me. “You’re home—”

I stepped sharply out of his reach before he could touch me, burying both hands in my pockets. I tipped my chin toward Cassandra, who was still lingering by the doorway. “Care to explain?”

The question seemed to knock him off whatever happy little track his mind had been following. His brows pulled together as he glanced at Cassandra, then back at me, confusion replacing the relief on his face.

“Oh, we were just finalizing my schedule for the next few weeks.” He dismissed it with a casual shrug before turning his attention back to me. “Forget about that. Where’s your stuff? Is it in the car?” He glanced past my shoulder toward the driveway before waving the thought away. “It doesn’t matter. We can get it later. Are you hungry? I can make you—”

I took another step back, a deep frown pulling at my brows. “What the fuck is going on? Are you on drugs? Or—” My gaze darted from his ridiculously hopeful expression to the strained smile plastered across Cassandra’s face. “Did I just interrupt one of those meetings?”

A crash sounded from somewhere deeper inside the house, followed by the unmistakable clatter of something metallic hitting the floor.

I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, my eyes narrowing toward the sound. “Are you two having an orgy?”

Cassian’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. His mouth fell open, closed, then opened again. Beside him, Cassandra went completely still, her smile freezing on her face.

For several painfully long seconds, nobody moved.

Then Cassian seemed to reboot. “What the fuck, Alessia?” he blurted, recoiling in horror. “Absolutely not! Why would you even think—” He broke off, dragging a hand down his face as a full-body shudder of disgust ran through him. “No. Just… no. The thought alone is repulsive.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “Hey, just making sure.”

His expression suggested that he would have preferred I accuse him of murder.

Another metallic clatter sounded from somewhere inside.

“What is he doing?” he muttered, the words accompanied by a dark scowl as he turned toward the hallway.

Naturally, I followed him inside. There was no chance in hell I was walking away without finding out what was going on.

We stepped farther into the house and found Rohan crouched over the floor, carefully retrieving the teaspoon that had caused all the commotion. He straightened when he heard us, the spoon still pinched between his fingers, and blinked at the unexpected audience. “Oh, hi. I was just making coffee for us.”

“Rohan!” I immediately brightened, slipping past Cassian before he could say another word and planting myself in front of him. “I didn’t know you were here too!”

He gave me a small, puzzled smile. “Yeah. I, uh—”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Cassandra interjected from behind. “I’m actually cutting down on coffee.”

Rohan looked at her, then at the half-prepared coffee in his hands. “I was actually making it for Cassian and me,” he clarified, gesturing between himself and Cassian. “I would’ve made one for you too, but I don’t know your preference, so…”

Cassandra’s smile remained in place, but the corners of her mouth drew into such a thin line that it barely qualified as a smile anymore. “Right.”

“You know, my offer still stands.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a business card, holding it toward him. “It’s for a different client, but the pay is extremely generous. Take this and call me, okay?”